Home > Fueled (Driven #2)

Fueled (Driven #2)
Author: K. Bromberg

Fucking dreams. Jumbled pieces of time that tumble through my subconscious. Rylee’s here. Filling them. Consuming them. And fuck if I know why the constant sight of her in a place that’s usually clouded with such horrible memories fills me with a sense of calm—of what I think might be hope—allowing me to realize that I might actually have a reason to heal. A reason to overcome the fucked up things that lurk here. That the black abyss in my heart just might have the capacity to love. Her presence here in a place so dark lets me think the wounds that claimed my soul and have always been raw and festering just might be finally scabbing over.

I’m dreaming—I know I’m dreaming—so how come she’s everywhere, even in my sleep? She’s robbing me of thoughts every minute of every goddamn day, and now she’s woven her way into my fucking subconscious.

She pushes me.

Unmans me.

Consumes me.

Scares the ever-loving shit out of me.

She feels like the start of a race, stopping my heart and speeding it up simultaneously. She makes me think thoughts I shouldn’t. Digs deep into the black within me and makes me think in whens, not ifs.

Fuck me!

I must really be dreaming if I’m thinking fucking shit like this. When did I become such a pussy? Becks will hand my ass to me if he hears me talking shit like this. It can’t be anything more than just needing to be buried in her again. Have her warm body beneath me to sink into. Soft curves. Firm tits. Tight pussy. That’s all it is. I’ll be fixed then. My head will return to where it needs to be. Well, both heads actually. And once satisfied, I’ll be able to focus on something else besides useless shit like feelings and a heart beating that I know is incapable of giving or accepting love.

It has to be the newness of her that has me feeling like a needy little bitch—so much that I’m dreaming about her specifically, not just the faceless, perfect body that usually frequents my dreams. There’s just something so fucking hot about her that I’m losing my mind. Shit, I actually look forward to the time spent before fucking her as much as I do the time I am fucking her.

Well, almost.

Unlike the numerous chicks that throw themselves at me with their overtly sexual ways: tits hanging out, eyes offering me to take them any way I want to, legs spreading at the drop of a dime—and believe me, most of the time I’m fucking game to their willingness. With Rylee though, it’s just been different from the start, from the moment she fell out of that fucking closet and into my life.

Images flicker through my dreams. That first jolt as she looked up at me with those fucking magnificent eyes of hers. That first taste of her that seared my mind, crept down my spine, grabbed hold of my balls, and told me to not let her leave―that I had to have her at any cost. The image of her ass swaying as she walked away without a backward glance, reeling me in with something I’d never considered sexy before. Defiance.

Pictures continue to circle. Rylee kneeling down to Zander, trying to coax his damaged soul out of hiding; her sitting on my lap in my favorite t-shirt and panties, straddled over me last night on the patio; showing up at her office, confusion mixed with anger warring across her incredible features from my non-refutable offer; Rylee standing before me in lacy lingerie, offering herself to me, selflessly giving everything to me.

Wake the fuck up, Donavan. You’re dreaming. Wake up and take what you want. She’s right next to you. Warm. Inviting. Tempting.

Frustration fills me, wanting her so desperately and not being able to shake this damn dream to take her sexy as sin body as I see fit. Maybe that’s what it is about her. That she doesn’t realize how sexy she actually is. Unlike the countless others before who spent hours staring at and critiquing themselves and their best sides, Rylee has no fucking clue.

Images of her last night consume me. Looking up at me with violet eyes, her bee-stung bottom lip tugged between her teeth, and her body instinctively responding to me, submitting to me. Her signature scent of vanilla mixed with shampoo. Her addictive taste—sinfully sweet. She’s irresistible and innocent and a vixen all mixed into one tempting, curvaceous package.

The thought alone makes my dick hard. I just need another fix of her. Can’t get enough. At least until the newness wears off and I move on like usual. There’s no way I’m gonna be pussy-whipped by any one woman. Why get attached to someone that will only leave in the end? To someone who will run the other way when they really know about the truths inside of me, the poison that clings to my soul. Casual is just what I need. The only thing I want.

The only thing I’ll allow.

I feel her hands slither around my abdomen, and I sink into the feeling. Fuck I need this right now. Need her right now. The knowledge that the tight, wet, heat I crave is just within my grasp stirs my dick awake. Sinking into the softness of her body and forgetting all of this shit in my head is just mere moments away. My morning hard-on stiffens further so that it’s almost painful, begging for her touch.

My body tenses as I realize the arms encircling me aren’t soft or smooth or smelling of vanilla like Rylee’s always are. Shivers of revulsion streak down my spine and turn my stomach. Bile rises and chokes my throat. Stale cigarettes and cheap alcohol permeate the air as it seeps from his pores with his heightened excitement. His paunchy gut presses against my back as his meaty, unforgiving fingers spread across my lower abdomen. I squeeze my eyes shut, the throb of my pounding heartbeat drowning out all sound including my feeble whimpers of protest.

Spiderman. Batman. Superman. Ironman.

I’m so hungry, so weak from the lack of food while Mommy has been away on her last trip that I tell myself to not resist. Mommy said that if I’m a good boy and do what I’m told, we’ll both be rewarded—that doing this for her makes her love me; she’ll get her fix of “Mommy feel goods” from him, and I’ll get to have that half eaten apple and plastic wrapped pair of crackers she luckily found somewhere and brought back here. My stomach cramps and mouth waters at the notion of having something in it for the first time in days.

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