Blinding Darkness

Chapter 31

Warning: Sexual Content

   Vincent was everything but gentle. Hands most likely bruising wherever they touched, lips running crazily against mine. I had no idea why he was acting like this. But I did enjoy his hands as they roamed around my body. This was a whole new Vincent, and new Vincent was quite a turn on. With experienced hands, Vincent had me bare. I went to undo his jeans but he didn't allow me, grabbing ahold of both hands he placed them on the wall on each side of my head.

Closing my eyes, I go in for a kiss but am met with his neck.

Why won't he kiss me? I thought, frowning. Those thoughts vanished as Vincent lowered us down on the bed.

He sucks on my neck and swirls his tongue on my sweet spot. Dammit, I really wanted to run my hands through his soft hair, but it didn't help that he kept a tight grip on my hands which were placed above my head.

I gasp in surprise and pain as all of a sudden Vincent slammed into my wet core. He didn't even take his jeans off, which really didn't matter because his thrusting distracted me from thinking.

"Fuck," he growled, lifting my leg to have a better angle. His movements more rapid and rough.

Sinking my nails into Vincent's back, I bite down on my lip to prevent from crying out. Not in the good way, too.

He was merciless, pumping in and out without a false beat. His moans and grunts filling our room. I flinched as he sunk his teeth into my neck once again, the sharp pain shocking me momentarily. Vincent was never this uncaring when we mated.

"Vincent," I cry out, "you're hurting me."

But he didn't stop; didn't stop pounding into me even when I had tears falling down my face; didn't stop even when I told him to stop; didn't stop when I was pushing him away because of the intense pain flowing through me; didn't stop until he found his own release. But even with all of the pain, my body still wanted him.

With a sore attempt at getting away from Vincent, I'm pulled back and laid on the bed, again.

He leans forward, our noses brushing. "Care to tell me why the fuck Jaxon's scent is all over you?" Vince snarls through clenched teeth, squeezing my bruised waist.

I wince.

I couldn't speak. 

My chest felt as if it was constricted while a lump formed in my throat, but most of all – my heart was broken.

"Get away from me," I whisper quietly, so quietly it's barely audible.

Frowning, Vincent's gaze unwavers from mine. I look away. Not a good move; a hand gripped my chin and forced me to look at him. "Why?"

I just stare at him. Hurt and betrayal burning through my gaze. "Tell me this," I demand, tears brimming, "did you have sex with me just because I had Jaxon's scent on me?"

A look of guilt flashed through Vincent's yellow eyes. He knew what he did wrong, but it's already too late. Vincent used me. And that's how I felt. Used. Not appreciated. Not loved.

We didn't have sex out of love, it was nothing but a show of who I belonged to as an object, like a pet and her master. In the beginning I had no problem with everybody knowing Vincent and I were mates, I really didn't. But this was a whole different situation. He had sex with me 'cause it was a show of who I belonged to as an object and not as a person. Pushing him off of me, I rush to the closet and throw on a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt.

"I'm so sor—" Before Vincent could finish his sentence, I interrupt him with a vigorous shake of my head.

Gulping, I walk to the door and pause. "Well, it's good to know that I was just a good fucking."