Page 43 of The Boy I Loved

His jaw feathered with irritation. “Horny?” he repeated. “So, you were going to fuck Mason of all people?”

“I’m desperate, remember? Have to take it where I can get it.”

Something in him snapped. The gray of his eyes was swallowed by the black of his pupils. A chill crawled down my spine and goosebumps peppered along my arms.

“Let me help you with that then.” He growled, the sound reverberating through the room.

“Fuck you, Dominic,” I snapped.

I was done playing this stupid game. He didn’t get to decidewhen he wanted me—when hecaredfor me. I wasn’t some pathetic, little puppet he got to tug the strings of whenever he deemed fit. I bent down to grab my shirt, but before I could put it on, he was snatching it from me and throwing it across the room.

“Dom—”

My sentence was cut short when he reached out, wrapping his hand around my throat. He backed me toward the bed, my heart racing within my chest.

“Dominic,” I forced out. “Stop.”

“You want me to stop?” he countered, narrowing his dark eyebrows. “I thought you were desperate and horny.”

I shuddered when the back of my calves hit the edge of the bed. “Not for you.” The words came out shaky and uneven.

“Liar.”

Dominic shoved me onto the bed then, tearing my shoes from my feet, and letting them hit the ground with a soft thump. I scooted back on the mattress, a mixture of fear and … arousal trickling through me. He caught my ankle, tugging me back to the edge of the bed.

“Dominic.” I breathed out, confused by the warring emotions spreading throughout me.

He didn’t respond, taken over by whatever monster lurked beneath the surface. He reached for the waistband of my leggings, pulling them down my flailing legs.

“Dominic,” I said again, more sternly this time. “Stop.”

His eyes flashed with something cold and unforgiving. “You want to be in my world? You want to know what guys like me are capable of? What guys likeMasonare capable of?” he sneered.

“Y-you’re scaring me,” I stammered, my chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

“Good.”

He hooked his fingers into the band of my panties and jerked until they were tearing from my body. A pained hiss slipped past mylips, but there was no time to dwell on that, because in the next breath, he was unbuttoning his dark-colored jeans and pushing them down his muscular thighs.

My head whirled with an assortment of thoughts I couldn’t even begin to make sense of. Maybe it was the alcohol, or possibly even the confusion of the events happening in general.

Once he was naked from the waist down, his angry, red cock rising and falling with every ragged inhale, he climbed on top of me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

It was a stupid question. I knew exactly what he was doing, but I couldn’t comprehend why. There was a part of me that just wanted to give in, to feel his hands on my body, to feel him thrusting deep inside of me, to hear him just …explainit all away. But the other part, the part driving most of my thoughts, was tired of feeling weak, and was tired of the back and forth.

Dominic paused, resting his knees on either side of my body. “Don’t tell me you don’t want this,” he retorted with a venomous edge to his voice. “Not after you’ve been following me around like a bitch in heat.”

His words cut deeper than I wanted to admit. Maybe because he wasn’t wrong, or maybe because they were simply coming fromhim. But how could he be right? I’d kept my distance like he asked me to and only texted him that one time. Why was he so keen on hurting me? What the hell did I do to deserve this kind of treatment from him?

Tears stung the back of my eyes, pain twisting my heart until it exploded throughout the rest of my being.

“Fuck you,” I snapped, pushing myself to sit up. I shoved against his chest, tears blurring my vision. He didn’t let up, pressing his weight down on my thighs, his warm skin seeping through my own.

A flicker of guilt flashed across his face, followed by hesitation. “Hazel…” He sighed, his voice softening.

“No! I’m tired. You’re a goddamn asshole, and I’m tired.”