Page 2 of Hearts Etched in Glass (The Afton Adders #2)

The Drug in Me is You (reimagined), Falling in Reverse

Several months later.

I heat the needle with the small canister fire atop my side table.

The room is dark. A pitch-black void. Like my soul.

I just want these goddamn feelings to evacuate my system, but instead I have to bleed them out or drug them over.

Cleaning the perfect patch of skin on my forearm, I can feel the anticipation build as I ready myself for the prick of the needle, but then the door opens to my room.

After thinking she was dead, then coming to terms with it in a dark and depressing path of self-destruction, it still stuns me to see her full of life before me.

My gorgeous Tilly.

Melancholy paints her beautiful face as she peers down at my arm then back up to meet my eyes. Tears well within her gaze as she slowly approaches, like I’m some animal she doesn’t want to frighten.

She doesn’t make a sound, just glides over to me in her long, white pleated skirt. The fabric shines from the moonlit window, the only thing aglow other than the sinister flame beside me.

She could pass for an angel.

As she slides down to the floor at my feet, I brace myself for the shame that creeps down my spine. She gracefully drapes her arm over my knees and props her chin atop her forearm.

We stare at one another.

Suspended in time.

I still have the needle propped and ready, thumb on the plunger, ready to push into my skin. My hands begin to shake slightly. The anticipation is killing me as she breaks the silence with her melodic voice. “May I have some?”

Her question gives me pause.

I shake my head no, sweat breaking out on my brow.

“Then why are you doing it?” she asks so sweetly, so innocently.

I swallow, feeling my throat bob heavily.

Fuck, I feel like I’m about to drown.

Why do I need to answer her?

“I… I need…” I start, but have a hard time finding the words. Tears threaten as I grit my teeth. “I needed this, because I couldn’t deal with losing you .”

She cocks her head like a pup, then slowly raises her hand to take the syringe from me.

I don’t even fight her.

Her golden locks gleam in the moonlight, her eyes still filled with so much love for a piece of shit like me.

How could she love someone like me ?

Especially with everything I’m doing to myself.

I’m a fucking addict now, for Christ’s sake.

“Shhh,” she whispers, placing one finger against my lips as she stands .

I didn’t even realize a traitorous tear escaped my face, now slowly sliding down my cheek.

Placing the syringe on the table, she envelops me, her arms around my head, pulling it close to her chest as she stands. I can feel the rise and fall of her breathing and it brings me so much comfort.

“I’m here.” Then I feel her rest her cheek atop my head as she begins stroking the back of my head.

Like a fuckin’ dam, I burst.

My emotions can no longer be held down with violence and drugs. They built up for however long as these months passed without her and now she gives me the grace to let go.

“Shhh…I know, darling. I know. I’m so sorry, but I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere,” she whispers, then kisses my forehead. I feel her delicate hand guiding my jaw to bring our foreheads together.

“You promise?” My eyes search for hers.

She gives me a small, beautiful smile.

“I promise, on one condition,” she says.

Pulling her small frame tightly to me, I crush the side of my face to her chest and hear her thunderous heart beating. It makes me smile as I answer her, “ Anything.”

“You stop doing that shit. Got it? It’s an order,” she demands in her seductive, commanding voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply, lifting my head to gaze up at my girl.

She traces small circles on my back as her other hand grasps the back of my neck.

Then she says, “Good. Now be a good boy and crawl.”

The tip of her toe nudges my chest, slowly forcing me back as she releases her hold on my neck.

She sits in the dimly lit room with a beautiful, sinister smile painted on her face. “Go to the door,” she orders, smooth and seductively.

I do as I’m told and crawl to the door, then turn back to face her. My breath hitches in anticipation. She leans her head back on the lip of the chair and peers down at me, assessing her prey.

“Strip off your shirt,” she demands, placing both hands on either side of the lounge chair. Her beautifully manicured hands gleam in the light. My skin prickles at the thought of her digging those nails in my back. The anticipation of making her moan on my cock causes arousal to flood my veins .

“Crawl to me.” Her voice is a low, serene growl. It takes everything in my being to not sprint to her and disobey the slow torture she wants to inflict on me. Though this is the best part.

Slowly. Painstakingly, I crawl. One arm in front of the other towards my darling. Her heated gaze upon my figure. To give her a proper show, I make sure to flex my muscles, emphasizing each movement forward, my cock straining within my pants, to the point it aches.

As I come near, she perches her foot out like a dancer, holding her dainty toe atop my forehead, ceasing my movement. Then she quietly places her foot on the ground, leaning her body down as my heart picks up pace in anticipation.

Looking like an ethereal goddess her hair brushes my cheek as she whispers, “Are you going to be my good boy?” Then she sits back ever so slightly in observation. Assessing me.

I nod slightly, trying to maintain control. Allowing my eyes to study what I may see of her body. Taking in her warmth.

“Are you going to be my whore? ”

I give her one slow nod as my eyes gaze up at hers. We lock onto each other. Time is suspended in this moment as I focus on the rise and fall of her perfect chest. The swell of her breasts peering through her blouse. My breath catches awaiting her next words.

She takes out a free hand to cup my cheeks and I lean into her touch.

Craving a dose of her that she is willing to provide.

The pad of her thumb glides over my bottom lip.

“I need to hear you. Are you going to be my good whore? Are you going to let me use you the way I want to?” she asks with such softness.

Any other man might be appalled by her language but by God do I yearn for it.

It feeds a part of my soul I didn’t know needed to be awakened.

She raises a delicate eyebrow awaiting my response.

“Yes, my darling. I’ll be your best whore. What would you like me to do?” To my response she sits back, opening her legs a little more.

She gives me a heated glance. “You know what I like. Surprise me.”

Pinching the sides of her long, pink, pleated skirt, she playfully pulls it up a couple inches, “Dine on me. Like I am your last meal. ”

I don’t hesitate.

Swooping underneath her skirt, she gave me all the permission I needed to begin playing with her. I kiss her center, feeling how wet she is through her panties.

Fuck .

I shake my head slightly, to keep my focus on the task at hand and not tear off her undergarments and fuck her into this chair.

She wants me to eat like it is my last meal, so I’ll fucking feast on her, but first I’m going to play with my food.

Gracefully I take both of my callused hands and glide them to the back of her thighs, pushing them up.

Her skirt still slightly conceals her from me.

I lick and lave her clit through her undergarments, knowing it will tease her.

Drive her mental to want and crave the close contact.

Skating one hand behind her knee, I hook it onto the arm of the chair then graze my hand back down to her ass.

I lightly scratch the skin, over her panties, teasing her even more.

I’m rewarded with a frustrated moan, but she doesn’t protest. My darling doesn’t give me any demands or orders, I know this is what she desires .

Sliding my hand down, I crook my finger. Taking the knuckle, I graze over her arsehole while I suck her wetness through her panties. Her body jolts upwards from the pleasure as she instinctively clutches my head over the skirt that hides my devious act.

“Naughty man,” she says lovingly through her gritted teeth.

“Give me what I––.” Her words are cut off as I swiftly rip her panties and delve two fingers into her center.

She let’s out a glorious moan, as I feel her gripping my fingers.

I roll my tongue over her now exposed clit, causing her to melt back into the chair.

Her body sending small shock waves through her.

As I take my fingers out she gives me an unappreciative whine, but at this angle I have a perfect view of doing what I please.

I take my finger that still holds the remnants of her arousal and crook it, using the knuckle again to glide over her puckered hole. With my other hand, I prop her other leg over the armchair, splaying her out over the chair just for my own private show.

As I tease her backside, I take my free hand and curl two fingers into her, rubbing the spot that makes her toes curl in pleasure.

She starts making small whimpering sounds as I over stimulate her with my thumb, pressing it in small circles over her clit, working her center with my two fingers and teasing her arse with my other hand.

Her legs begin to shake on either side of the armrests. I stave a small chuckle, relishing in my own pleasurable torture, as my cock strains, nearly cutting through my damn pants.

I straighten my finger and plunge it into her backside. Hearing her gasp, she jolts forward and slams my head into her center, so I move my thumb and begin sucking and nibbling on her clit.