Justin's POV “Oh Brian… Brian…” I touch his cheek and he doesn’t flinch. “Brian…” I just keep saying his name, pulling his body closer to mine. I grab his face in both hands and press my lips to his, just wanting to kiss him. I feel him react quickly, pushing both hands beneath my shirt, his fingertips sliding over my abdomen. I’d only meant to kiss him once lightly before pulling away, but now his tongue is shoving into my mouth, his teeth scraping against my lower lip. He’s pushing me down on the mattress, grabbing the hem of my shirt and pushing it up, yanking it off. “Brian,” I say again, using a different tone, “Brian, stop.” I push at him but he doesn’t move off me. He leans down on top of me, biting below my ear, an old hotspot. I kind of gasp and tilt my chin back, sliding my fingers through his hair and gripping at the nape of his neck. My legs are spread with him between them, knees against his hips, and his teeth are gently pressing against my skin, his soft tongue poking out and wetting my skin. “Shit, yeah…” I sigh out, and I know he’s leaving marks and I don’t want to explain that to Ethan. Right now, I don’t want to think about Ethan for a moment. Such deja vou Why do I have to hurt him so much? Brian’s fingers are tracing the letter’s of his own name, his hard on pushing against my thigh. “Brian,… we can’t… we really can’t…” I try, pushing my hips up against his warm body as he tugs at my boxers one handed. “Why not?” He’s not stopping and part of me is frustrated. He bites below my chin, dragging his tongue down my sternum and shoving my legs apart roughly. “I don’t want… I don’t want Ethan to hear,” I tell him bluntly, starting to press my knees together and wriggle out from beneath him but he stops me, holding me in place. He gives me that stupid smirk and shakes his head. “He went for a walk, he wont hear shit.” “But he’ll hear about it. You’ll be sure of that,” I snap, grabbing him by the hair to shove him away. He moans out when I pull and that makes me hesitate. For a second I think about Ethan, and I know that’s wrong but whatever. I’ve always said I’m an asshole. Why should right now be any different? Brian works a hand beneath me, rubbing between my legs with the boxers keeping our skin from touching. “Maybe you’ll be sure of that,” He breathes across the fresh marks on my stomach, sliding his fingers along my boxer covered ass. “I don’t…” “Maybe you’ll be the one to tell him this time,” he raises his other hand and tugs at the elastic against my abdomen, starting to slip it down, his knuckles rubbing along my happy trail. “I’m not going to tell him-“ “What’s gonna hurt him more? Pretending to want him or really wanting him?” Brian asks, grabbing both sides of my boxers and yanking them down roughly to my knees. “Fuck you.” “You want this,” He hisses and his fingers are hurting me, digging into my thighs, “Admit it, okay? Make it easier.” “You don’t understand! You never wanted to and you don’t now!” I bend my legs only to have Brian shove them apart wide. I let out this whimper and a gust of stale air. “A lot of people want the past back. That doesn’t mean it’s right.” “You’re the one that hurts everyone.” “Since when do you care who I hurt? Since when do you care about Ethan?” “Shit, I don’t. You’re the one that says you do. So why don’t you make one good choice in your life and leave him before you fuck him up like you did to me.” He’s back up, biting down on my neck and sucking forcefully, purposely leaving a mark. He’s got his pants and underwear down his thighs, his dick in his hand, searching out my entrance. “Fuck, you’re not sticking that in me without lube,” I snap, trying to close my legs again and he pushes them apart, annoyed. I’m actually scared because I know I don’t want this. Even if it’s not, it feels like rape. There’s this dirty, used feeling in my chest, and it’s so much like rape I’m getting sick to my stomach. “We’ve got spit. You don’t need lube anyway. I’m sure Ethan’s stretched you out enough.” I let out a growl and a deep moan of discomfort as he steadies himself and just starts pushing in. My head tosses back on the pillow and I groan, tensing up my face. It really hurts and I grab his arm with one hand, letting my nails bite into his wet skin. “Goddamn, it fucking… you’re fucking…” I try to speak coherently, and I’m all sweaty, waves of heat drowning over me, uncomfortable and aching. “Pleasefuckingstop.” “What, am I hurting you? Aren’t you used to that by now?” Brian smirks down at me and shoves his hips forwards, forcing his cock up inside of me. My jaw strains down and I moan, shaking. “Ugh, Brian…” “You’re a whore and you love it,” He smirks again and positions himself so he can start thrusting, my head shaking back and forth. I kind of feel like I’ve got to piss and he’s brushing right by my prostate over and over so that there’s fluid leaking all over my abdomen. I’m just being banged back into the mattress and my feet are up in the air, my ass getting fucked hard. Why is he doing this to me? I just don’t get it. Why do I have to get off on this? It hurts but it feels so fucking good at the same time. I want to cry, from all the hurt and pleasure. He leans down quickly and just shoves his tongue into my mouth roughly and I part my lips wide and accept him, just like I part my legs and accept him. He’s fucking my mouth with his tongue, fucking my body, fucking me over, and all I can do is moan out like he’s killing me because he really is. I’m making pained little animal gasps, my jaw strained way down as his cock rubs at my insides with each hard thrust up inside of me, and my eyes are closed tight, brow wrinkles, head dropped to the side. “Aah, aah… Brian…uh…god…” I’m going to orgasm. That’s the worst part about all of this. I’m gonna fucking cum all over myself. I’ve already got precum leaking all down my aching hard on, and I can feel my orgasm building up, making me hurt and feel good all at once. “Fucking cum, you whore, fucking do it,” Brian’s growling at me, hissing right in my face. I remember vaguely how Ethan made me feel so good about myself when he slept with me. Brian’s making me feel like worthless trash. And I think I’m getting off on it. I grope around, feeling for his hips and I dig my nails and fingertips into the pliable skin as hard as I can, leaving scratches and marks, and I watch his face, hovering over mine, contort. I bare my teeth at him and tear my nails along his sweaty lower back, watching him wince, his nose wrinkling up. He growls and lunges forward, pushing my jaw up with his forehead, biting my neck hard. I feel his teeth cut me and I feel his dick press against my prostate, and his stomach is rubbing against my erection in that way that I can’t jerk myself off. He’s totally in control of all of my pleasure, and this turns me on and scares me so much all at once that I can’t take it anymore. He sucks on my neck hard, basically slam fucking me into the mattress, me moaning and sweating and all of my muscles are pulling, arching up against him, begging for him, needing him. It’s so sick and wrong and I can’t do anything but need it with everything I have. If he stopped right now I’d die, I know it. “GOD!” My head throws itself back, back biting down just below the bowl in the base of my throat, and I’m just cumming. My eyes shut tight, my whole body so tight I can’t move anything; all I can do is groan. Brian leans up and grabs my thighs, shoving hard into me, his cock banging into my prostate so I can’t stop moaning even now. His jaw drops, my muscles squeezing over him, and his face pulls as he climaxes. I can almost feel him cum, and I can definitely feel the burning sensation of his cum against my raw skin. I can’t stop trembling, just all over. He pulls out and I force my legs to drop, whimpering out at the heated pain all spearing out from my lower body. My neck is aching where he bit me now, my thighs sore from being slammed against and grabbed, my lips raw from being licked and bitten… I meet his gaze, and I know I look like a whore, ejaculation smeared across my stomach and dripping from my insides, hair messed up, my body coated in sweat and still shaking. I suddenly realize that this is how he’s always seen me. I let him do this. I am a whore. Brian thinks I’m a whore. He’s not going to stay with me. He doesn’t love me. What the fuck is going on? “Brian… please don’t go…” I beg with him. I fucking beg. Mostly because I’m pathetic anyway, but right now, I’m just praying that maybe this isn’t just about ownership. Make it not about his possessiveness. I need to think he loves me. “I gotta go take a shower,” he mumbles, standing up and closing his pants, looking more then a little distracted and embarrassed. “Brian, just stay. Just stay with me for a little-“ “I can’t! I’ve got… stuff to do…” he struggles to get his shirt back on, and I’m still lying there, cum and sweat. WHORE. I can feel myself start to cry, lying flat on my shoulder blades and staring up at the ceiling. I know this is lame. I know this is pathetic. It’s stupid. It’s dumb. It’s weak. But I really, really need to be held right now. If Brian notices that there are tears sliding down my cheeks, he doesn’t say anything. He scrambles for the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. He doesn’t even look at me. He doesn’t turn around. “I’ll just… talk… uh… see you later or something,” he says, staring hard at the door. I swallow and quickly wipe off my face with my free hand. “Yeah,” I answer, choked and injured. I know I deserve it, but it still fucking hurts. “Don’t blame me. This is noble and you know it,” he says, swishing the door open and closing it after him with a click. I don’t have the strength to move. I just keep rubbing my tummy and trying to hold in tears. Trying to figure out how fucking me senseless and leaving me totally broken again is, in any sense, noble.