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My head is spinning. My pussy clenches around him, feeling every bump of his cock. It feels so good, but still tears fall from my eyes. Regret is laced in every thrust of his. Regret and sadness. I hate this. I hate that this is how we’re fucking for the first time.

“Please. Just…finish.”

“Not yet, Tues. I’m not done with you yet.” His head dips to my neck, planting little kisses.

“Leave a mark, and I’ll cut it from her flesh.”

I sob at the sound of his voice.

“Shh, beautiful,” Wyatt says into my ear. “It’s just you and me. Feel every inch of me inside you. I fit so fucking perfectly.”

“Please. I just want it to end.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “I wanted this to be different.” He speaks so low, only I can hear him. “I thought if I got to fuck you, I’d leave such a lasting impression, you’d have no choice but to let me fix you.”

“You can’t fix me,” I whisper back.

“I know that now,” he says, pulling back. “Now I just want to make you feel good.”

Wyatt’s mouth latches onto my neck, sucking on my flesh. His body rocks into mine as his fingers continue to play with my clit.

I don’t even care if Wyatt leaves a mark. Don’t even care if Hendricks slices it off me after, because it all just feels so good. My eyes flutter from pleasure. Stomach tenses as an orgasm sits right on the horizon. I fight against it. Any orgasm I have right now will only earn me more pain later.

But Wyatt is determined. His lips leave my neck, pulling back just enough for his golden eyes to meet mine.

“Don’t you dare fight it, Tues. I want to feel you come around my cock. You want this to end? It only does when you come so hard you see fucking stars.”

Wyatt’s thrusts grow increasingly rapid, as do his fingers against my clit. My vision blurs as my body tenses. I’m at the edge of bliss and just barely holding on to my surroundings.

“Come for me, Tuesday,” Wyatt groans.

My whole world shatters at his command.

And I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive without him now.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Tuesday’s pussy is too fucking good. The drugs normally dull the feeling for me, but she might be an exception.

That’s not a good thing for me. In fact, that’s a very terrifying thought.

Still, as her cunt spasms around my cock and her eyes roll back as she comes, I’m compelled to not give a fuck.

If this is hell, I’m not sure leaving is an option.

If she isn’t savable, fuck it. I’ll take the ruins.

I knew she would be my downfall the moment I saw her in person. Trying to fight it has gotten me nothing but destruction.

I suppose none of it matters now. She won.

Wrecked my whole world. Crushed my dream. Ruined me.

I don’t care nearly as much as I thought I would. The only part that upsets me is she doesn’t get to enjoy her victory. She gets no glory in my collapse. Neither of us gets to come out the other side of this on top.

Winning means very little for her when she’ll still be stuck under his control.

Losing means very little to me when I know what the person holding the trophy has to endure.