𝘐𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵

𝘌𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

𝘊𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘵'𝘴 𝘗.𝘖.𝘝.

Mistakes. 

We all make mistakes, we learn from them and try not do make them again.

I seem to be doomed and helpless case because I don't learn from my mistakes, I play them on repeat, I don't make conclusions and I keep getting hurt. 

I am sore again, I am tired again, I am covered in his marks again, I smell like him again, I am tangled in his sheets again, I am in his bed again, I am in his bedroom again and he is gone again.

"God."- I sighed, running my hand through my raven hair, my knees against my chest as I am hidden under black, silk covers, my back against the headboard. 

Before my senses and mind could take over the control, the door knob of a room in front of the bed opened and it was all it took for my body, heart and soul to betray me again.

Messy, damp, velvety, shiny, midnight black hair. Prepossessing face is too handsome, too perfect. Slight, sublimely trimmed stubble is becoming my weakness. Peppery, spicy, warm, hazardous scent is stronger, more consuming, more intoxicating.

Droplets of water trailing down his vast, flawlessly chiselled chest, slowly skimming lower to his hard, defined, perfect 8 pack, skipping to his deep Line until vanishing beneath the crisp white towel that is hanging so dangerously loosely and lowly around his masculine, appealing hips. Blank ink adorns his rugged, hardy arms. Broad, sturdy shoulders and muscled back. 

Confident, slow strides towards the bed.

Me pressing against the headboards. 

My hands keeping covers against my naked body, desperately hiding it from him. 

Dusky grey, dark, predatory, possessive, perilous eyes roaming up and down my physic, as if being able to see through the covers. 

"Hands off."- he commanded in cold, warning tone, shivers running down my spine. 

"No."- I denied and pulled covers more to myself, having no desire to get tangled into this for the third time. 

I am in enough of trouble. 

Little did I know that denying him is impossible. 

Faster than I could grasp, he nudged the covers off me and turned me on my stomach, my hands behind my back in one of his large, veiny hands. 

"When I tell you to do something, you do it without any questions. You don't get to deny me, dictate me or disobey me."- he stated huskily in my ear, smell of smoke mixed with his divine fragrance, and gripped my hands securely, therefore leaving me restrained and helpless. 

"You made it clear who I am to you and that this is over."- I said bitterly and softly, pulling bits of my sanity in one piece, gulping as I heard packaging open, something landing on the floor almost soundlessly.

"All that you should have on your pretty mind is that I am about to fuck the soul out of you and you better brace yourself for it."- he spoke smokily, my hips up at his disposal, and thrusted deeply and roughly into me, making me moan loudly in sensitivity, pain and pleasure. 

Damned pleasure that I shouldn't feel, that I should hate, that I should resist, but I cannot do any of it because I am helplessly obsessed with it - with him. 

My nails dug in his hand and sheer moan, mixed with whimper, escaped from me as he pounded into me, making his words come true. His massive, thick, veiny hardness rammed into me, my eyes rolling back, soft sounds being the only thing I am capable of right now.