Chapter 23

Diesel

He didn't stop buying me gifts.

Since the fruit basket on Monday, I'd received tickets to the ballet, a Ranieri handbag, and another pair of sneakers. Needless to say, I turned them all down, minus the ballet since it was a great show, and did my best to ignore Shay-Lee in every possible way. But today, he crossed the line—if there were ever one to begin with.

"Shay-Lee." I roared his name when I finally found him in the gym's showers after searching for him around the school for nearly an hour. I normally would've wondered why the fuck he skipped class to take a shower in the middle of the day, but I'd been skipping half my classes to smoke, so…

Closing the tap, he turned to look at me, water dripping from his soaked hair and down his wet body. "If you wanted to join me, you could have just asked—"

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" I growled as I stopped in front of him and shoved the keys to the brand-new motorcycle he'd bought me into his hand. Just thinking about the black bike waiting for me in the parking lot made my body tremble with rage.

"Why are you so mad?" He played with the keys. "It's a good bike." Stepping closer, he patted my chest with the same hand holding the keys. "Bet you'd look hot on it." He slid his hand down my body and tucked the keys into my back pocket, making sure to pinch my ass on the way. Something snapped inside me at that moment, and before I could stop myself, I had him pinned against the shower wall, dressed or undressed, I didn't give a fuck.

"Was the hot comment too much?" He gave me a lopsided grin, not bothering to hide his satisfaction. "Or was it the ass grab?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I hissed, tightening my hold around his arms and shoving him harder against the wall. The sound of the water dripping echoed around the empty showers, making me aware that someone could walk in at any moment, but I didn't care. He was driving me out of my freaking mind, and I could hardly hold it together.

"What's wrong with me? That's a rather general question. Mind being more specific?"

Taking a deep breath, I gritted my teeth and leaned closer. "What the hell do you want from me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He smirked. "I want to drive you insane."

"You're crazy."

"I know."

Looking between us, my eyes traveled down his naked body and back up to his neck. His tan skin, still wet from the shower, nearly glowed under the harsh fluorescent light. Like some starved beast, I wanted to lean in and trace those wet trails with my tongue before sinking my teeth into his flesh hard enough to break skin and leave a mark.

He truly is driving me insane.

"You can choke me if you want," he said when I realized I was still staring at his throat. "You know we'll both enjoy it."

Moving on impulse, I brought one hand to his neck, scraping his skin. I quickly traced his pulse and, for a second, imagined how it would be if it were gone. All I needed to do was to tighten my hold, and he'd be dead. A few more seconds of him gasping and gagging for air and he'd be quiet for good, and with him, so would my problems.

Problems.

That was what my sister's rapist thought right before he chose to choke her to death. Didn't he? She was probably screaming, fighting for her life, and he wanted her to quiet down—just like you want to shut Shay-Lee up—so he strangled her—just like I'm choking Shay-Lee—until she could no longer fight.

"Camilo."

Shay-Lee gasping my name was like the last ray of sun to pull me out of the dark, and for a moment, I was grateful. I was grateful he was there to call out my name and save me from myself. But this feeling of gratitude was gone as quickly as it arrived, only to be replaced by anger. Pure, animalistic, rage because he shouldn't be the one to make me feel that way.

He shouldn't be the one.

But before I could even think about it, I pulled him closer and crushed our mouths together in a violent kiss that drank up his moans and took him apart.

A small groan escaped past his lips as he slid his hands underneath my shirt and leaned into me with desperation. Tugging on his bottom lip, I bit him hard enough to taste blood, but not even that stopped me from shoving my tongue into his open mouth and swirling it around his like a possessed man.

Nothing about this kiss was gentle, if I could even call it a kiss. It was an assault of his mouth with all the pent-up aggression he had put me through. There was no consideration, no patience, or gentleness. All I was trying to do was cure my wounds by digging fresh ones into him, and the way to do so was by sucking on his tongue, biting on his lips, jaw, neck…

"Oh, fuck," he cried out, putting a shred of awareness in my head, making me pause and give the empty room a quick scan. Since we were both skipping class, the gym stood empty, but it was better not to risk it.

"Diesel—"

"Shut up," I hissed, grabbed his arm, and yanked him into the nearest toilet stall, shutting the door behind us and turning him around to face it.

"How aggressive," he purred while giving me a starved look over his shoulder.

"I told you to shut up." Fisting his hair, I forced his head to the door at the same time I unzipped my pants and pulled out my throbbing length. I'd never been this hard before, but then again, no one had ever pushed me to my limits the way Shay-Lee did.

Taking a condom out of my wallet, I covered myself up before grabbing his hands and twisting them behind his back. "This is your chance to say no." No matter how angry I was, I wasn't a goddamn rapist.

Pushing back against me and grinding his ass against my dick like a slut was enough of a yes. Not having any lube, I spat on my hand and used it to wet his hole with two fingers. He moaned at the touch, and the sound of his pleasure only increased my anger, making my chest tight and my muscles tense with the fanatic urge to destroy him.

"M-more," he groaned as I grazed his hole with my thumb and pushed the digit in.

"I told you to be quiet, you dirty fuck," I whispered in his ear as I held his hands harder behind his back and pushed my finger deeper. "Or do you want the whole school to hear what a slut you are for my fingers?"

"S-shit," he groaned as I replaced my thumb with two fingers and began fucking his hole.

"You like my fingers in your cunt." I smirked, taking satisfaction in his inability to resist me. "So much so that you're wet like a bitch in heat."

"F-fuck off," he hissed, his breath hitched.

"Wouldn't you want that?"

Pulling out, I spat more into my fingers before shoving them back inside, adding a third on the way and pushing harder, causing him to gasp for air. Thankfully, this time, he tried to contain his cry. Knowing we could get caught wasn't even a concern at this point. I was too obsessed with the need to humiliate and rip him apart to actually have the tiniest shred of common sense, as my sole goal was to break him the same way he broke me.

After stretching him open with four fingers, I knew he was ready to take my cock, so I pulled out. Ignoring his whining, I gave myself a lazy stroke while moving my eyes down his glorious body. His waist seemed extremely slim from this angle, and I bit my lip at his perfect, round ass that looked like a fine peach. Thinking about it now, finding him naked in the showers wasn't such a bad thing after all. While I throbbed at his glowing, sweat-covered skin, I didn't miss the faint bruises, mocking me, daring me to notice them. A cruel reminder that he was broken long before he came to me.

"W-what the fuck is taking so long?" he snarled, forcing me back to reality. "Stop being such a pussy and fuck me alrea—" His words were replaced by a sharp intake of breath as I pushed in inch by inch, not giving a fuck about his cries, until I was settled deep inside of him, stretching his hole open with my cock. Pulling all the way out, I repeated the action and plunged into him again before I began thrusting my hips and stuffing him full.

"I-is that the best you can do?" he asked between panting breaths, smugness dripping off his voice. "Can't feel a thing."

Still holding his wrists behind his back, I wrapped my free hand around his neck and pulled him back until his head rested on my chest. "That's 'cause your slutty hole was used too many times, perra." Removing my hand from his neck, I cupped his cheeks and forced him to open his mouth before spitting into it, grinning. "Your ass is so hungry for a cock, making you this wet for someone who hates you… fucking embarrassing."

His cheeks flushed red and pleasure glittered in his eyes as he swallowed my spit. He started to say something, but I shut him up by pushing my fingers into his mouth and pressing down on his tongue until he gagged like a bitch. "Attaboy… suck on them like you sucked my dick."

A throaty groan escaped him as drool trickled down his chin, making him look like a pure mess. I loved it. I loved how helpless he was right now. How desperate he felt.

With my fingers stuffing his mouth and my cock filling his ass, I finally let go of his wrists, only to grab his waist and fuck him harder.

Rocking my hips, I plunged in and out of him at a frantic pace until he could hardly stand, and I had no choice but to hold him so he wouldn't fall.

Pulling my fingers out of his mouth, I grabbed his nape and shoved him against the door, watching his back arch and his arms stretch before kicking his legs wider apart. Sweat dripped down my body, and my shirt stuck to my skin as overwhelming heat consumed me. The small stall, filled with the moans he tried to conceal and the sound of flesh smacking, reeked of sex, and I clenched my jaw as I continued fucking the ever-living shit out of him.

"W-wait," he cried. "W-wait a second, I can't—ah."

Doing the exact opposite, I drilled into him harder and faster, watching his body quiver with the pain. "You say you can't, but look at you, twitching around my dick like a two-dollar whore." Moving my hand to his front, I grabbed his stiff cock and squeezed it in my tight fist before giving him a few shallow strokes.

"Camilo—" He tried to say my name but choked on it as I pumped his cock harder, matching the pace I was fucking him.

"Don't say my name," I snapped. "You don't fucking own it." And hearing my name coming out of his mouth did me all kinds of wrong, forcing me to feel things I had no intention of feeling.

Unaware of the effect he had on me, Shay-Lee groaned and fucked into my fist harder.

"You stupid bitch, dripping all over my hand and making a mess," I hissed, then cussed because fuck, he felt good. Too damn good.

"Oh, God."

"Imagine if someone was listening to us right now. What would they say if they knew what a slut the captain of the football team is for my cock?" His ass squeezed me tighter, and I smirked. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd like the school to know you're my slut."

"Y-yes, fuck, yes."

Not digging how much he was enjoying himself, I paused.

"W-what are you doing?" he asked, out of breath, while trying to peek over his shoulder.

"Shut it, Perra." I shoved his head against the door. Then, with my cock still buried in his ass, I pulled out a pack of smokes and put one between my lips. Lighting it, I closed my eyes and tilted my head back while taking the first hit.

"Fuuuck, yes." I let out a long, deep groan as the nicotine kicked in.

"A-are you seriously smoking?" he whined.

"I told you to shut it." A devilish smile then quirked on my lips. "But if you're such an impatient little cunt, why won't you move? Come on, bitch, let me see how much of a slut you are."

Taking another long drag, I pulled out until only the crown of my cock was swallowed in his greedy ass and waited to see how he'd react. He didn't disappoint, pushing back against me and fucking himself on my cock while I stood still and enjoyed the fucking show, savoring my cigarette.

Blowing the smoke out, I observed my cock disappearing in and out of his tight hole. "Look at you." I slapped his ass with an open palm and watched it bounce. "Using my dick like a well-trained whore."

"Yes, fuck, yes."

Crossing an arm around his chest, I pulled him back until he was pressed to my front, then blew the smoke in his face. He coughed and tried to pull away, but I grabbed his jaw. "Yes, what?" I whispered in his ear while holding him harder.

"Yes, I'm a whore."

I brought the cigarette to his lips and made him smoke it, watching him with insanity as he coughed on the smoke.

"Yeah, you are." I took the cig from him and placed it between my lips, tasting him on the wet tip, and let go of him at once. He fell forward, stopping himself with his arms on the door. Shoving my cock back in, I kept the cig in my mouth and started fucking him again, my hips nearly losing their rhythm with how hard I was assaulting his hole.

"Fuck, yes, right there." He pushed hard against my thrusts. "I-I'm about to come," he cried.

Despite how good he felt and how tight his ass was, this sick, twisted moment wasn't about pleasure but unleashing all the wrath I held for him. It was to prove I had him by the throat and that I was the one in control while he was nothing.

Shay-Lee Rogers meant nothing. In fact, he meant so little to me that the second he came all over the stall's door, I pulled out his ass and turned him around before forcing him to his knees.

"Open wide," I ordered, tossed the cig to the floor, and stamped on it. Taking off the condom, I began stroking my cock. He did as he was told, parting his lips and sticking out his tongue with desperation written all over his vulnerable face. Something changed inside of me, but it slipped away when my orgasm hit me and I came all over his face. Some of my cum landed on his tongue, so I cupped his cheeks and forced him to close his mouth.

"Swallow," I said and watched his Adam's apple bob as he did.

Unbothered by the traces of cum still left on his face, Shay-Lee looked up at me with eyes full of emotions I didn't want to see.

He looked owned.

He looked disheveled.

But it still wasn't enough to set me at ease. If anything, it only made me angrier.

I need to make it stop.

I need to push away those sickening emotions.

"You might get my dick hard," I said, tucking myself back in my pants, "but make no mistake, you repulse me."

"Camilo—" he began saying, but I cut into his words.

"Don't say my fucking name. You aren't worth it. You ain't worth shit, and I'll fuck you as many times as it will take for you to get that message into your thick skull."

His face went blank before hurt took over his features. Not the regular type of hurt but the gut-twisting agony that can only ever come from loss. The kind of hurt I knew all too well.

I thought hurting him would have made me feel better, but it only made me feel worse. Unable to bear these revolting feelings any longer, I got out of the stall and out of the showers. With a new cigarette already tucked between my lips, I rushed down the hall before I thought about the way I'd left him—alone, used, and ruined. Then the realization hit me, stabbing me like a knife, knowing that I was no different from all the other men who had put their hands on him before.