Born To Be Your's

Chapter 21

“Did I get the right answer? Do I get a prize?” Liv giggled, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, her eyes wide, glassy, and completely oblivious to the terror she inspired in the two men watching her.

D, twitching violently, ignored her. He turned to Blake, his pale face suddenly slick with cold sweat. Blake’s own expression was pure, lethal rage.

D raised his hands in surrender, pleading. “No, no, B! It’s okay! She only had one drop, and it’s a very low dose of Fentanyl in the mix. She… she should be fine! She can stay here. I have Narcan on hand! If anything happens, she’ll be fine!”

Liv jumped up again, clapping her hands. “Prize! Prize! I won!”

Blake took a deep, shuddering breath, the icy realization of the danger paralyzing him. He felt the blood pounding in his temples. He was furious—at Sally, at D, and at the entire world that treated life so cheaply.

“You sure did, baby,” Blake growled, his voice low and dangerous, stripped of all sarcasm. “You get to see me beat the living s**t out of D for being a f*****g moron.”

Liv gasped, then clapped again, excited by the promise of chaos. “Will you take your shirt off?” she asked, already fixated on seeing Blake’s muscular body in action.

Blake ripped off his jacket, his muscles tightening with rage, preparing to launch himself at the dealer. D shrieked, backing away instantly.

“No! No, B, please! It’s okay! I swear, she’s just high! Just stay for a few hours until it’s out of her system, okay? I’ll keep an eye on her! I promise! I have the Narcan!”

Blake stood rigid for a moment, the fight draining out of him, replaced by the grim knowledge that a violent confrontation would only alert the neighbors and the police, jeopardizing Liv’s life more than the drug already had. He ran a hand down his face, dragging his fingers through his messy hair.

He looked at Liv, who was swaying happily with Sally, utterly content. The happiest he’d ever seen her.

“Fine,” Blake ground out, the word tasting like ash. He looked D dead in the eye. “But you better roll me the strongest f*****g joint you have, or I’m going to kill you slower than that drop will.”

D practically bowed, his hands clasped in prayer. “Right away, B. Top shelf. Anything you want.”

Blake sank onto the couch, watching Liv like a hawk. D returned quickly with a heavy, thick joint, saying, “This is the strongest s**t I have. It’s got everything.”

Blake took the joint, brought it to his lips, and took a huge, deep inhale, filling his lungs until they burned. The chemical rush was immediate, washing over his anger, numbing the sharp terror in his chest.

After a while, Sally and Liv were fully immersed in their high. The music seemed to grow louder, the colors in the room more intense. They were dancing, their bodies rubbing against each other, their movements slow, sensual, and uncontrolled. They were clearly hitting the peak of their shared ecstasy.

Sally looked at Liv, her face melting into an expression of awe. “Liv, you are so beautiful,” she whispered, reaching out to touch Liv’s dark, smooth cheek sensually.

Liv bit her lip, giggling dreamily, leaning into the touch. Sally slowly leaned in further, her mouth hovering near Liv’s. Sally gently licked Liv’s bottom lip. Liv’s eyes widened slightly, the unexpected tingle of the cold, wet touch sparking a physical craving. Liv groaned, leaning in closer, closing the distance.

Sally was the one who closed the remaining distance, kissing Liv softly on the lips. Then, she immediately deepened the kiss, their mouths moving together, their hands roaming.

D, who had been sitting next to Blake, nudged him hard. They both watched, stunned into silence, the aggressive display of open sexuality unfolding before them. Blake felt a sudden, massive surge of heat and desire, struggling violently against the drug he’d just inhaled.

Liv noticed him watching. Her head turned slightly, her eyes—wide and dark—met Blake’s. A sly, confident smirk curled her lips, acknowledging the fact he was watching their intimate exchange. She pulled Sally closer, kissing her even more sensual now, tilting her head to deepen the kiss.

Sally giggled, pulling back slightly, her face flushed and ecstatic. “Oh, B, she tastes so sweet! Oh, I like it!” Sally immediately returned to kissing Liv, licking her lip again.

Blake felt a tightening pressure in his jeans. He shifted violently in his seat, trying to hide the sudden, powerful erection that was surging to life. The drug was supposed to calm his mind, but it was amplifying his carnal need for the girl he couldn't have, right as she was being claimed by another.

D, completely oblivious to Blake’s internal war, was touching himself, his eyes glazed over, staring at the sensual entanglement on the couch.

Blake instinctively reached out and smacked D hard on the arm. The sudden movement broke the trance, but the damage was done. Liv was still kissing Sally, and Blake was still hard, his body screaming for the girl who was oblivious to the fact she was dancing with death.

The music changed abruptly, the pounding EDM replaced by the sultry, aggressive beat of Selena Gomez’s “Hands to Myself.”

D couldn't fight the pull anymore. He jumped up and grabbed Sally by the wrist. “We’ll be right back, B.”

Sally giggled, swaying slightly, as D dragged her through the door to their room, slamming it shut behind them.

The living room fell silent, the music now focused on Liv. She stood there, slow dancing to the heavy, pulsing beat, the drug making her movements fluid and intensely s****l. She turned, seeing Blake staring at her from the couch.

She smirked, her eyes dark, deep pools of desire. “You like what you see, Copper?”

Blake slowly blew out the last remnant of smoke from the joint, his control thin and dangerously frayed. “Maybe.”

Liv bit her lip, challenging him with her eyes. “How about now?”

In one smooth, intoxicating move, she lifted the hem of her tank top, pulling it over her head. The shirt sailed forgotten to the floor, leaving her bare torso covered only by the black lace bra. Blake inhaled sharply, his c**k throbbing violently beneath his jeans.

He tightened his jaw, unable to speak, utterly captivated by the sight of her perfect, high breasts straining against the lace, the dark ink of her tattoos twisting beautifully up her side.

Liv slowly walked toward him, her movements synchronized with the slow pulse of the music. She lowered herself onto the couch, straddling him, her thighs pressing her hot p***y against the straining, rock-hard length of his c**k.

She moaned, pressing her hips down harder against his erection, her breath escaping in a sharp hiss. “Is that my prize, B?”

Blake fought for control, his big, strong hands finding her hips, gripping them tight, trying to maintain the fragile truce. “I thought you said we couldn’t do this again, Liv.”

She leaned down, her lips brushing the delicate skin behind his ear, the sensation making his c**k twitch violently. She giggled, a dark, sensual sound. “But I want you, B. I’ve been craving to have you inside me again.”

She continued kissing his neck, up to his ear, her voice dropping to a raw, primal whisper that dissolved his last moral defense. “I want you to f**k me, Blake. Like you did in the janitor’s closet. Slow, deep, and hard.”

She began to grind her hips against him, a slow, intoxicating rhythm that rubbed her wet heat against the fabric of his jeans. “I want you to f**k me so hard that I scream your name until the sun comes up.”

She pulled back slightly, her beautiful, high face looking into his. Her eyes were glazed with lust, need, and desperate desire.

“Please,” she begged, the word a plea for physical release and oblivion. “I want you, Blake.”

Blake’s last shred of control—the fragile armor of their friendship pact, the fear of Paul and Francis, the terror of her dying in his arms—snapped completely.

“f**k it.”

He hauled her toward him, crushing his lips onto hers.

Blake crashed his lips onto hers, a violent, desperate kiss that tasted of cheap weed, fear, and desire. Liv met his urgency, her hands immediately flying up to clutch the hair at the back of his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. The truce was detonated; the friendship pact was irrelevant. All that existed was the need for physical oblivion.

Blake broke the kiss just long enough to grab her under the thighs. He stood, lifting her easily, his massive arms supporting her small, warm body. He didn't hesitate; he strode toward the back room. He kicked open the door to D's bedroom and tossed Liv onto the bed, the mattress protesting under the sudden weight.

He stood over her for a split second, stripping down with frantic, primal urgency. His jacket, pullover, and jeans were ripped off and scattered on the floor, freeing his large, thick, rock-hard c**k.

Liv, her beautiful eyes dark with ecstasy and lust, mirrored his movements. She quickly unzipped her jeans and shrugged them off, her fingers already working to undo the front clasp of her black lace bra. She watched him, her hand moving to her inner thigh, rubbing the soft skin together, lubricating herself further in anticipation.

Blake fell onto the bed, crushing his mouth onto hers again, muffling their desperate groans. The drug amplified the sensation—the touch, the heat, the smell of their combined urgency. He spread her legs, rubbing his thick c**k between the smooth, wet heat of her inner thighs.

Liv pushed her hips up, grinding her p***y against him, a sound of pure, desperate hunger escaping her throat.

Blake couldn't take the friction any longer. He grabbed her hips, pulling her to him. His mouth immediately descended, suckling her breast hard, marking her with his desperation.

He positioned himself, his hands gripping her thighs, and drove himself inside her.

Liv gasped, a high, strangled cry that was swallowed by the loud music still thumping from the living room. She was incredibly wet, scalding hot, and her muscles immediately tightened around his large c**k, demanding possession.

Blake groaned, "f**k!" into her neck, the sound deep and ragged with the intensity of the friction. The drug enhanced every nerve ending; every thrust was a violent, shocking pleasure that made the previous closet encounter feel like a polite handshake.

They found a frenzied rhythm. Liv wrapped her long, silky smooth legs high around his waist, pulling him deeper, her heels digging into the small of his back. Blake gripped her thighs, holding her in place, his thrusts starting slow and deep, then becoming savage, relentless, and completely uncontrolled. Liv was screaming into his neck, the raw sounds of her pleasure filling the small room, utterly losing herself to the drug and the raw, desperate s*x.

He flipped her onto her stomach, pulling her hips back toward him, mounting her from behind. He entered her again, deeper this time, finding a new, profound angle that made Liv scream into the pillow. He drove into her, watching the elegant curve of her spine and the beautiful, vulnerable contrast of her dark tattoos against her pale skin. He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back slightly, kissing the back of her neck as he delivered a series of rapid, punishing thrusts that left her body trembling beneath him.

Liv cried out, “f**k, Blake, yes!” begging him for more of the painful pleasure.

He flipped her back onto her back, grabbing her legs and pulling them high over his shoulders, exposing her body completely. He bent over her, watching her face, thrusting into her with long, powerful strokes. He was inside her, outside of time, using the drug to amplify his desire and bury the guilt of their dangerous situation.

They moved to the floor, desperate to change the angle, finding a raw, urgent passion against the cheap, rough carpet. Liv was on her knees, pushing her hips back to meet his grinding pelvis, the rhythmic pressure sending wave after wave of pleasure through her drug-saturated body.

The rhythm built—faster and faster—until Liv felt her muscles begin to seize, tightening impossibly around him. Blake felt the exquisite, demanding pressure, the final, undeniable signal. He groaned her full name into her neck, pumping three final, explosive thrusts into her body, collapsing onto her as their simultaneous release detonated, a perfect, singular shockwave of climax.

They lay there, slick with sweat and coming down from the high, the adrenaline slowly receding. Blake pulled out slowly, his large c**k sensitive and heavy. He rolled onto his back, pulling Liv tightly against his chest, their legs tangled.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips brushing her skin. “That was… incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough and thick with emotion, the same exhausted admission he’d made in the janitor’s closet, only amplified by the drug.