Page 71 of The Boy I Loved (Eternal Hell #1)

It would be a nice piece of art if it weren’t for the asshole’s name. The letters were done nicely and with professionalism. Shaded flowers adorned each one with little skulls scattered throughout.

“Looks good, right?” he asked, running his nose along the side of my neck.

My body shook with a mix of adrenaline and rage, the words tumbling from my lips before I could even think of stopping them. “You know what else would look good?” I asked sweetly—innocently.

“Hm?” He placed a kiss to my lips next, one I didn’t reciprocate.

“Your head on a goddamn spike.” I shoved him away from me with all the strength I could muster.

Tristan let out a surprised grunt as he stumbled backwards but quickly regained his footing.

Irritation flickered across his face, and I knew then that I’d fucked up big time.

But what did it matter anymore? There was no way in hell I’d get through this unscathed.

I’d be surprised if I didn’t end up like Stacy. Hell, my mind had already been broken.

Tristan took a step toward me and then another until he was back at my bedside. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said coldly.

I tilted my chin, fear hammering against my sternum in tune with my rapidly beating heart.

There was no going back now. Maybe fighting back wasn’t the smartest idea.

It would only get me hurt, or worse, but I was so sick and tired of being treated like I didn’t matter—like I was just another hole for these sick, twisted people.

Tristan braced his hands on the bed beside me, using the mattress to hold his weight as he leaned forward. His hot breath whispered against my lips, his blue eyes igniting with something dark, dangerous, and even … exciting.

This man. This man, who tortured and raped women for fun, who degraded them, and forced them to commit inhumane acts …

He intrigued me. My skin was hot all over, like someone cranked the temperature up at full volume.

The intensity in his gaze made me want to submit, but I couldn’t.

Because despite how horrible of a person he was, there was something about him that called to me.

And maybe … that scared me the most. The anticipation of what he’d do to me now, after I’d boldly disrespected him, slithered through me in a never-ending current.

I licked my lips nervously, and like clockwork, his eyes dropped to my mouth. That was when it clicked. He was evil, but he was still a man. Men were like wolves. They were prideful and carnivorous, but if you played your cards right, they could be tamed.

Slowly, I inched myself backwards and propped myself against the headboard of the bed. The skin where the new wound was located stretched uncomfortably, making me wince. Expelling a ragged breath, I turned to face the predator again.

I reached forward, allowing my fingertips to dance over the edge of his jaw.

His stubble grazed my fingertips briefly before I wound my hand around his neck and pulled him forward.

His lips met mine instantly, electricity filling me entirely.

Warmth spread through my body as I kissed him with more fervor, allowing my teeth to graze his lower lip.

He groaned in response, his body reacting just as I’d hoped it would.

What I hadn’t accounted for were the warring feelings punching through me, making me feel it much more intensely than I would have expected.

It was then that I realized a small, tiny part of me liked Tristan.

A very small part. What I couldn’t figure out was why.

There was nothing remotely redeemable about him.

He was attractive, sure. He fucked good, yeah.

But I didn’t know him at all, apart from the vile acts he committed.

How could any part of me want him ?

I’d been here for too long. That was the only plausible explanation. He’d gotten to my head with his stupid face, his stupid words, and his stupid body.

As the kiss grew more heated, I lost myself in it—in him.

My hands dropped to the button on his jeans, and I fumbled with it sloppily just as he pushed his tongue into my mouth.

I moaned, the heat in my body amplifying by the second.

As soon as the button popped free, I pushed his jeans down his narrow hips.

He broke the kiss abruptly, surprise registering across his face when he realized what I was doing.

Only for survival. I told myself. But the more I told myself that, the more it felt like a lie.

There was clearly an attraction here, one that didn’t make sense to me, if I was being completely honest. My reddened skin stretched uncomfortably with every move I made, but it was the least of my concerns.

I’d seen how Tristan got when people pissed him off or became useless to him.

“What are you doing?” he rasped, his voice thick with desire and intrigue.

Instead of answering, I shoved his boxers down next. There was no hesitation before I wrapped my hand around his veiny cock, thumbing the bead of precum that had already started to form at the tip. He sucked in a sharp breath as I slowly started pumping him up and down, my eyes finding his.

I never thought I’d be with anyone other than Dominic.

I’d saved myself for him for two and a half years after he’d left, knowing in my heart that he was the only one I’d ever want.

Even after the circumstances changed, it was hard to picture a life where anyone else captured my attention the way he did.

Tristan was the worst person I’d ever met, and yet, having him inside me was the only thing I could think about.

This was his game. I knew that, but the knowledge did little to deter me.

Leaning forward, wincing as my skin stretched again with the new position, I swiped my tongue over his head. His hands tangled through my hair instantly, his swollen lips parting with desire. I continued pumping him up and down, even as I sucked him into my mouth and hollowed out my cheeks.

“Fuck, Hazel.” He grunted, thrusting forward. He slid toward the back of my throat, making my eyes water. “Your throat is so damn tight.” His head fell back, his grip on my hair tightening as he used it for momentum.

My hands traveled up his body, fingers slipping beneath his shirt to feel the hard planes of his physique. He shuddered against me, his breathing coming out faster and uncontrolled.

Desire pooled in my abdomen, even when he increased his pace and force.

My throat burned while tears trickled down my cheeks.

I moaned around his girth, my nails cutting into his flesh as the assault continued.

Something had to be wrong with me. I shouldn’t enjoy bringing him pleasure. I shouldn’t want this.

“Fuck. Just like that, baby.” He moaned, his head falling back. Even his words had my pussy fluttering.

I forced myself to breathe through my nose, attempting to relax my throat so he could go even deeper. He tattooed his name on my body without my consent, and here I was, pleasuring him.

“Fuck!” He growled, jerking his hips back with a loud pop. His cock fell from my lips, his blue eyes swirling with unfiltered lust. Before I could comprehend why he’d stopped all of a sudden, he was kicking off his shoes and clothing.

Tristan tugged his shirt off over his head, letting me see all of him for the very first time.

There was a large tattoo from his chest to his ribs, but my thoughts were too jumbled to make it out.

On the opposite side of his body was the familiar biker emblem embedded into his peck.

He wasted no time, reaching for the front of my shirt and tearing it right down the middle.

Once he managed to get that off me, he tugged my skirt and thong down my legs, taking in my naked body with a slow sweep of his gaze.

Hooking his arms beneath my knees, he bent my legs upwards, forcing them against my chest before he joined me on the bed, settling himself beneath them.

My legs lowered to his shoulders, anticipation slithering through me.

In one slow thrust, he was entering me. A low moan rumbled through my chest, my hands falling to my sides to grip the sheets.

“Goddamn.” He grunted, seating himself to the hilt. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of feeling your pussy around me.”

I bucked my hips, wanting to feel all of him. My pussy fluttered around him, squeezing his length until he was releasing a shuddering breath that had him trembling.

“Tell me something, my little nightmare.” His voice was strained, almost choked, as he slowly started thrusting in and out.

I wasn’t sure I could even speak. The position we were in had me feeling so full. I managed to hum in response, my fingers curling around his wrists. Slowly, he eased back before driving into me with so much force, it had me moving on the bed.

“Tell me you want me.”

This had to be a trick of some sort—another one of his fucked up mind games. My eyes fluttered around the room for any sign of Dominic lurking nearby, but there was no one.

“I want you, Tristan. It feels so good.” I didn’t even have to lie. He had a way of making me feel special during sex, even when it was the last thing I wanted. He was good with his body, maybe even talented. The man knew what he was doing.

He groaned before sliding out again and pounding into my dripping pussy with even more force than before. “Tell me you want me more than Dominic.”

My eyes widened at his request, my stomach twisting with unease. “W-what?” I stammered breathlessly .

His jaw clenched at my hesitation, but he didn’t relent. Instead, he slammed into me again and again. A series of moans escaped my defenses, my head falling back against the pillow.

“Tell me you want me more than him.” He grunted.

My mouth opened and closed repeatedly before I managed to swallow past the lump in my throat. “I-I can’t,” I admitted.

If I needed any more proof of this being some kind of mind game, that was it.

My stomach turned with discomfort, but the building pleasure within me contrasted against it.

Tristan’s fingers pressed into me harshly, a crease forming between my brows as a wince captured my features.

His warm breath fluttered through the air, brushing against my face.

He smelled of cigarettes, leather, mint, and a hint of spice. He was the epitome of trouble.

My mind drifted to Dominic, back to when he was the carefree boy I’d fallen in love with. He’d been so full of life. It was still hard to wrap my head around the fact that he’d fallen so far.

My thoughts were cut short when Tristan hiked my leg over his hip, angling himself even deeper.

My breath stuttered out, the pleasure intensifying.

There was something so carnal and possessive about the way he took me—even in the way he looked at me.

It was a shock to my system, spreading a current of warmth through my body.

Tristan’s grunts reverberated through the room, sweat slickening his skin as he thrusted in and out of me. His icy eyes remained locked on mine, making this feel far more intimate than I was comfortable with.

Electricity prickled down my spine, filling my abdomen with a lazing heat. A cry fled my lips as I erupted around him. The choked sound that escaped Tristan’s lips was completely sinful, causing me to clench around his thick girth.

“Fuck.” He panted, his fingers digging into my thigh. Moments later he was spilling inside me.

To my surprise, guilt didn’t come crashing down around me as it normally did. Instead, all I felt was … numbness. There was a hollow pit in my stomach, threatening to consume any feeling whole.

Tristan collapsed on top of me, his solid frame pushing my body into the mattress. Even the pain from the tattoo was miniscule. He ran his nose up the side of my neck, his warm breath feathering against my skin.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his lips pressing against my throat.

I’m not .

But I knew saying that wouldn’t do me any good. My heart would always be with Dominic. Even if it wasn’t with Dom, there was no way I could ever love Tristan.