Boys Like Him

Be mine

I nodded, looking at the floor.

He stepped closer.

"I don't do this," he mumbled quietly.

"This?"

"Yes, taken in by girls this much."

My eyes flicked up.

He was serious.

"Then why me?"

He exhaled slowly. "Because I can't stop thinking about you. Since the day you moved in. Every time I see you in the hall, every time you look away like you're scared of what you feel... it drives me f*****g crazy."

My chest tightened.

He reached out, thumb brushing my cheek.

"I want you, Nyelle. Not just last night. All of it."

I swallowed. " What does that mean?" I whispered.

He dropped his hand, but his eyes stayed locked on me.

"Be mine."

My breath caught, a rush of heat flooding me.

"Like... girlfriend?"

"No," he replied softly. Labels are for people who have their s**t together, and sweetheart, I don't. I've got too many loose screws rattling around up here..." he tapped his temple with a lazy smirk "...and way too much chaos to play boyfriend. I'm not built for that kind of responsibility. I'd just end up letting you down, over and over, until you hated me. And honestly? I'd rather keep you wanting than watch you walk away when you finally figure that out."

The words hit harder than I expected, cold and blunt. He stepped in closer, crowding my space, eyes dark and hungry as they dragged over my face. His voice dropped, rougher now, dripping with that dangerous heat that always short-circuited my brain.

"But you can still be mine, Nyelle. All mine. In every way that actually matters to me." His fingers slid along my jaw, pressing his thumb hard enough against my lower lip to part it slightly. "No one else touches you. No one else even gets to look too long. You don't date, you don't flirt, you don't f**k anyone but me. I don't owe you a title for that, or promises I won't keep. You just belong to me. Simple."

He tilted his head, studying my reaction.

"Do you want that? To be mine, knowing exactly what you're signing up for, knowing I'll take everything you give and still never give you what you actually want?"

The raw edge in his voice, the absolute certainty that I'd say yes anyway, burned straight through me, hot and humiliating and impossible to resist. He wasn't even pretending this was fair. He was telling me upfront, I get to have you without having to keep you.

I should've walked.

Should've seen the trap yawning open right in front of me, thinking back now.

But the way he was looking at me drowned out every rational thought.

"Yes," I breathed, hating how small my voice sounded.

He dragged me into a kiss that felt more like branding than affection, punishing almost. When he finally let me up for air, he pressed his forehead to mine.

"Good girl," he muttered. "Because I really don't f*****g share. Ever."

The words sent a twisted thrill through me.

I smiled up at him, biting my lip as his eyes raked over me.

" Nice fit, by the way, Fun fact, cherry," he drawled. "Red's my favorite color. Especially when it's wrapped around something I plan on ruining."

My breath caught, heat flooding my cheeks.

He crowded me until my back hit the edge of the dining table. His hands came up to cage me in, fingers curling around my hips hard enough to bruise tomorrow.

"This f*****g dress," he muttered against my neck, lips brushing skin as he started trailing open-mouthed kisses down my throat. "Been driving me insane since you walked in. Clinging to every curve like it's begging me to rip it off you."

His teeth grazed my collarbone, then soothed the sting with his tongue. I gasped, fingers twisting in his shirt.

"You wore this on purpose, didn't you?" he growled, nipping at my jaw. "Knowing exactly what it'd do to me. Knowing I'd want to bend you over the nearest surface and make you scream my name until you forget every other one you've ever moaned."

His hands slid down, gripping the hem of the dress and yanking it up roughly over my hips.

"Look at you," he rasped, dropping to his knees without warning, eyes locked on mine as he hooked his fingers into my underwear and dragged them down my legs, slow enough to make me tremble. "Already soaked for me. f*****g sexy how wet you are."

He tossed the lace aside like trash, spread my thighs wide with rough palms, and lifted me onto the table like I weighed nothing. Plates rattled, a glass tipped and rolled off the edge, shattering on the floor; neither of us cared.

Then his mouth was on me.

He dragged his tongue up my soaked slit in one slow, obscene stroke, parting my folds. My hips snapped up involuntarily, chasing more, but he held me down with that iron grip, growling low against my throbbing c**t. The vibration hit like a shockwave, ripping a guttural moan from my chest as he sealed his lips around it and sucked.

My spine bowed off the cold table, nails scraping wood as he lashed the swollen bud with the tip of his tongue in rapid, vicious flicks that had me writhing, tears pricking my eyes from the overload. "Fuck.. please..." I gasped, but he only hummed darker, the sound rumbling straight into my core.

"That's it," he mumbled, voice hoarse and cruel. "Fall apart for me. I want you dripping down my chin before I even think about letting you come."

Those strong hands clamped my hips harder, bruising flesh as he forced me still. Then, God's two thick fingers speared into me without mercy, stretching my dripping p***y in one brutal thrust. He curled them instantly, stroking that devastating spot deep inside with ruthless precision, pumping in and out while his mouth never stopped its assault. The room filled with the filthy symphony of wet slurps, my arousal dripping down his wrist, glazing his chin as he feasted like a man possessed.

I was sobbing now, his name a broken chant tangled with curses, as my fingers yanked his hair, pulling him closer, needing more even as it bordered on too much. He snarled against me, sucking my c**t so hard I saw stars, fingers f*****g me faster, deeper, scissoring just enough to make my walls flutter wildly around him.

The coil in my belly wound impossibly tighter, a molten pressure ready to snap. My thighs quivered uncontrollably, clamping around his head, but he didn't relent.

I came with a scream that tore my throat raw, back arching violently as wave after wave crashed through me. My p***y clenched around his plunging fingers in brutal spasms, gushing slick that he lapped up greedily, tongue softening only to prolong every aftershock until I was a trembling, oversensitive mess.

Finally, he eased back, lips shiny, eyes black with lust, wiping his mouth lazily with the back of his hand. He towered over me, taking in the wreckage.

That smug, predatory smirk curved his lips. "Red suits you best when it's painted across your body like this," he rasped, voice gravel-rough with satisfaction. "When you're dripping down my hand, forgetting everything but how hard I just made you come."

He leaned down, capturing my mouth in a filthy kiss, tongue thrusting deep, forcing me to taste my own desperation on him.

"We're nowhere near done, baby. I'm going to ruin you until you're begging me to stop... and then I'll make you come again anyway."