Hellish

Prologue.

hell·ish
/ˈheliSH/
adjective
• of or like hell.

H Å K A N

Love is such a fickle thing. It's what everyone aspires to be in. It's what most women want more than men— although, I believe I want it more than most people in general. My therapist used to say I have an unhealthy dependence on women, but what does she know? Absolutely Nothing, which is why she's dead.

Anyways...

I am dependent on love itself. I've only ever received, ever genuinely felt it from one person but was stripped of it selfishly and without remorse by a fucking monster.

Funny, isn't it? That one monster can call another a monster...

I suppose it takes one to know one.

I don't believe I have ever had the pleasure of witnessing two people in love. I mean, most people would say their parents, but I wouldn't call what my parents had love per say— I don't know what I would call it to be honest, but it sure as fuck wasn't love.

The opposite of love is indifference...

"Look, I'm packing the rest of my things Kieran. It's clear this relationship isn't working out." I watch her petite frame roam around the bedroom, spouting bullshit and aimlessly tossing clothes into an obnoxiously bright pink Victoria Secret duffle bag...

Wow, was she always this fucking annoying?

"Kieran, are you listening to anything I'm saying to you?" She asks, standing with her phone in her left hand and her right hand on her hip.

I take this time to look her up and down and really study her. Her porcelain skin, platinum blonde almost white long straight hair touching the deep dimples in her lower back, her hazel eyes boring into mine searching for answers she knows I don't have— her French tip manicured nails tapping the bone of her hip. She's pretty, but not the pretty I used to think she was. But that could be because I now realize what an annoying little twit she is.

"As fucking usual, I'm talking to myself." She throws her phone on the bed next to me and huffs loudly.

"I don't know how I stayed in this relationship with you for as long as I did. Must've been the sex." She tried to sound irked, but her eyes traveling down to my dick betrayed her.

I don't know how I stayed either. You're a fucking nuisance.

Her matching French tipped feet make their way over to me in hurried steps. She straddles my lap, grinding her now wet pussy against my erection and her wet lips against my own— my body did always have a way of betraying my mind...how impulsive.

Unknowingly kissing her back, she slowly slides her warm tongue across my bottom lip asking for entry and of course I grant it to her.

Tongues fighting for dominance, I tightly grip her waist and she lets out an annoying moan, but her wetness is more than enough to keep me pushing on. Flipped over on her back, I hover over her quickly pulling down her soaked thong. How nice. Her small hands reach up to grab my face for another kiss, but I use my left hand to trap them over her head and my right to slide down my shorts.

Erection springing free, she looks down and takes her bottom lip between her teeth and looks back up at me with pleading eyes.

"For all that talk of the relationship not working out, you sure are eager for me to fuck you."

Pure lust in her eyes and lost in mine, I take advantage and slide two thick digits into her pussy. She arches her back and lets out another moan that's like nails on a chalkboard, but I choose to ignore it and pull them out of her.