Page 16 of The Destruction You Desire

Pushing up from the bed, he crawls between my thighs. He's only wearing a pair of boxers which doesn’t hide the package I already know it covers.

His fingers curl inside me, hitting that part of me that makes me see stars.

"Oh God."

"You're going to let me watch you come, baby," he tells me, his voice rough and deep making butterflies erupt in my belly. "And then I'm going to fuck you so hard that you'll never forget having me inside you. You'll never forget what you've done to me." The edge to his voice hints to the new version I've met over the past few weeks that I'm not at all fond of. But then he folds himself over me and runs his lips over my jaw as his free hand slips under the shirt I'm wearing until he finds my bare breast.

A thought flickers through my mind as to how I ended up here, in what I can only assume is his bed wearing nothing but his jersey.

Aware that it's probably something I'm going to regret, I push it all from my head as he pinches my nipple at the same time he presses against my G-spot and I forget about everything.

Our reality. How I ended up here. My raging hangover.

The only thing that exists in this moment is us.

Those two lost kids who crave to find the connection that we once had.

"Luca," I cry as his teeth sink into the soft skin of my neck as my orgasm crests.

He pulls back, staring down at me, captivating me with his hungry green eyes, but as much as I want to hold my steady gaze on his, I can't, and mine slam closed as I ride out the pleasure.

"Oh God," I pant as I come down from the high.

"So fucking beautiful," he breathes, pushing the jersey up so he can feast on my breasts as he grinds his length against my pussy.

It's like we're horny teenagers once again desperate to go all the way but terrified to make that move that we both know will change things.

"I hope your stomach is feeling a little more settled," he murmurs against my burning skin.

My brows pull together in confusion but before I get a chance to ask what he means, his hands clamp down on my hips and a squeal rips from my lips and he flips me over, my face pressing into the pillow as his weight lands on me.

"I don't want to be cleaning up any more of your puke," he breathes in my ear.

"M-my wha—"

My words are cut off when his fingers thread into my hair.

"How much did you drink last night, Peyton?"

"Uh… I don't know. It was my birt—"

"Don't care," he snaps, pulling my head to the side so I can see him. "You passed out in my arms, P. You could have ended up in anyone's bed this morning."

A shiver of fear runs through me knowing that he's right.

I wouldn't usually drink as much as I did last night but it was my birthday and I had a lot of shit to drown out. I also trusted that Elijah and the others would take care of me. Clearly that wasn't what happened.

"Elij—"

"Don't even say his fucking name, Peyton. I know who he is. I figured it out after I walked away yesterday. He was the boy who used to spend time at your house as a kid. He was friends with your sister. What he is not, is your boyfriend," he growls in my ear.

"I-I never said—"

"No, but I have a very good reason not to believe a single word that falls from your lips."

Tears burn my eyes as he talks and my head continues to spin with confusion.

By all accounts he looked after me last night, cleaned me up after I threw up. How can he go from that to… to this?