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The memories of how it felt to have her leave, to have her walk away from me, assaulted every sense I had. It ignited this urge within me to make her suffer. I fisted her hair and wanted to rip it from the scalp. I wanted to have her crying and begging, pleading with me to stop.

I slammed my hips into her over and over, and all she did was moan. She loved it rough. She could take it all.

I pushed her head further into the pillow, wanting to scare her, wanting to make her fucking nervous.

She tapped on the bedside table, something that had always been our safe “word”.

I was tempted to ignore her. I was tempted to show her who was in control, and how dangerous it was to piss me off. She tapped again, and an animalistic growl left my body.

But I relented.

Because in the end, I was just a man who was in love with a woman, and I could never betray her like that.

As soon as she was free, she twisted her head, gasping for air.

I looked at her face, seeing the mascara streaking down her cheeks from her tears. I saw her red-rimmed eyes, her swollen lips, her smudged makeup, and I felt victorious.

Even if I knew deep down she had more left to give. At that moment she looked shattered and broken, and it was exactly what my messed up mind needed.

I pulled her to her knees and slammed my cock down her throat, making her choke.

But like the pro she was, she recovered quickly, her hands coming up to fist the base of my cock, removing some of the length her mouth needed to take so she could prepare herself.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, Miss Rachel. That won’t do.

I removed her hands and grabbed the back of her head, forcing her down on my cock. She placed her hands on my thighs, bracing herself as I slammed into her mouth, keeping her head pinned down. She made a gargled choke, the spit spilling down her chin.

I pulled her head back, allowing her some brief seconds of breath before sinking back into her mouth, holding her steady as I thrust my hips against her, ramming my cock in and out.

She spread her knees and pushed one hand between her legs, her fingers seeking out her clit. She rubbed it furiously; her moans vibrating around my cock.

I saw it as an invitation.

I pulled out of her and pushed her onto her back, burying my face in her pussy before she had stopped bouncing on the bed.

This will be the last time , I swore to myself. I had to let her go after this.

I circled my tongue around her clit, drawing it into my mouth with a sharp suck, flicking my tongue around the tip before releasing it and flattening my tongue to run along the length of her.

I pushed two fingers inside her slick heat, her pussy instantly tensing around me as I continued to draw circles around her clit with my tongue.

“Dante,” she moaned, her back arching as she raised her hands to squeeze her nipples. I moaned against her pussy, hating that she had the power to excite me with such a simple gesture.

I hated that I enjoyed doing this so much. Even in my need to be selfish, she got pleasure from it. I wrote the word “die” with my tongue across her pussy before I added a third finger, making her eyes widen with shock.

I pumped my fingers in and out of her, making her sob with pleasure and pain.

Her legs began to shake against my head, becoming more tense as her pussy tightened around my fingers.

It became difficult to continue pumping into her as she clamped down.

In my messed up sign, I saw it as another way of her shutting me out, of denying me the thing I needed.

I knew it wasn’t, but I was fresh off one rejection and spiralling into another.

It made me crazed. I went to my knees and slammed my fingers in and out of her with all the force I could manage, sending her body up the bed inch by inch with every forceful thrust .

I pulled my fingers out of her, noticing a smear of blood running down them. I moaned, bringing them to her lips at the same time I slammed my cock back inside her.

“Do you taste that?” I hissed against her cheek, grasping her chin with my other hand to pin her in place.

“Can you taste your own blood as well as your pussy juices? I could fucking destroy you if I chose to.” I slammed into her over and over, not even realising what I was doing. All I could think about was a release.

A release from this beast that has taken over me. A release from this urge to hurt her and pleasure her. To fuck her or to kill her. I needed release from whatever the fuck this was.

I fucked her as though I hated her, because right now it genuinely felt as though I was toeing the fine line between love and hate.

“You’re fucking nothing,” I spat at her. “All you’re good for is to be used and abused. You’re nothing but a hole for me to bury my cock in. You’re my whore, so fucking desperate and hungry for everything I’ve got to give.”

She laughed at me, sucking my fingers into her mouth to clean up the last residue of blood. “Keep telling yourself that, soldier.”

She wrapped her legs around my waist and dug her feet into my ass, pushing me further into her pussy, spurring me on… torturing me.

“Come on, Dante. Make it worth it. Hurt me. Give me all you’ve fucking got. If this is your best, I’ve had better from something battery operated.”

“Rachel,” I growled, my balls tightening, the bottom of my spine tingling as release came near. “Stop fucking talking.”

“Or else what?” She panted. “Fuck me, Dante. Fuck me like it’s the last fucking time. Fuck me like you hate me. Fuck me like I’m exactly the person you think I am… nothing, worthless, pathetic. Fuck me exactly like that, because I assure you, I’m thinking the exact same thing.”

I placed my hand over her mouth to shut her up and did exactly as she asked.

The bed frame slammed against the wall with the force of my thrusts as I slammed into her over and over.

She screamed beneath my hand, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

Her legs tensed, shaking uncontrollably.

Her back arched off the bed, her eyes growing wide.

Her head shook from side to side, and in the next instant, she released.

A floor of liquid spilled between our bodies as she squirted her release over the both of us.

It drove me fucking mad, sending me catapulting into my own release.

I pulled out of her just in time and came on her stomach, fisting my cock to stroke the last remnants of my orgasm out of me.

She closed her eyes, her body still shaking. I looked at her, threw a t-shirt on her stomach, and left.

I was an asshole, and I left.

I hated the fact that I had made her squirt. I hated that my response to sharing that first with her was to cum harder than I ever have in my life. I hated who I was when I was with her. How out of control and dangerous I felt.

I need her gone.

I have to fucking cut out the poison before it consumes me any further.