His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 157: Horny

Chapter 157- Horny

I stepped closer.

"At least if I'm gone, I won't have to look at your face or listen to your bullshit anymore."

For a moment, the room was still. Too still.

It was like I'd forgotten I was supposed to be scared of this man.

But I didn't care.

I was tired. Tired of the games. Tired of the power he thought he had over me. Tired of being scared of someone so empty inside.

"That's right," I muttered under my breath. "That bastard..."

Then I looked him dead in the eyes and said the one thing I knew would hit where it hurt.

"Declan, I'll say this now and I'll say it a million more times if I have to—you disgust me. You always have and you always will. The thought of you touching me makes my skin crawl. I can't even imagine sharing the same bed with you. Never again. You don't deserve that."

That's when he laughed.

Loud, unhinged, terrifying laughter that made my stomach twist.

I blinked.

Was he okay?

"Are you alright?" I asked, my voice laced with confusion and concern I didn't even want to feel. "Is everything okay upstairs?"

He stopped laughing abruptly and stepped closer, that same crazy look in his eyes.

"Am I okay?" he repeated, grinning like a man who'd lost all grip on reality. "Should we ask the public?"

He leaned in.

"No, Beatrice," he whispered. "I'm not okay. I'm mad. And what I'm going to do to you right now is going to prove just how mad I am."

I swallowed hard.

And in that second, all the bravery I had just moments ago started to shrink. Doubt crept in. Fear came crawling back.

God... maybe I went too far.

Maybe I should've kept my mouth shut. Maybe now's the part where I get hurt again.

I looked into his eyes, praying—just praying—that he wasn't going to kill me.

I was only trying to protect myself... I wasn't ready to die.

Only a foolish person would wish for death when life still has so much to offer.

And I am not foolish.

No matter how hard things get, no matter how many nights I cry alone, no matter how broken I feel...

I still want to live.

Because this isn't the time to die.

Not when I had just started to feel what freedom tastes like.

Not when I had finally started sleeping without jumping at every noise.

Not when I was slowly, painfully finding myself again.

Not when my son still needs me

But then... Declan moved closer.

Too close.

So close I could smell the familiar scent of his cologne—the same one that used to make my knees weak, now just made my stomach twist.

His breath brushed my skin.

And when he brought his face near mine, I felt like the walls were caving in.

His eyes—God, his eyes—they were wild.

"You said I'm mad, right?" he whispered.

His lips hovered just a breath away from mine.

His voice was low. Too calm.

That kind of calm that came right before something terrible happened.

I didn't respond..

And then, slowly, without breaking his intense stare, he placed his hand between my thighs and gently parted them.

The air left my lungs.

My whole body froze.

I couldn't move.

Couldn't blink.

Couldn't breathe.

I felt like I wasn't even inside my body anymore. Just watching from the outside, trapped in a nightmare I thought I'd already woken up from.

I closed my eyes tightly, praying, please God, make him disappear. Just make him vanish.

"Leave me alone," I tried to say.

I wanted to shout it. To scream it in his face.

But the words... they refused to come out.

They didn't come out.

My chest was rising and falling fast. My hands trembled at my sides. I wanted to run, to push him away, to scream.

But I didn't.

"You can't open your eyes now?" he whispered again, voice like a slow drip of poison.

"I thought you were so bold earlier. Saying I'd never touch you again. That I'd never lay a filthy hand on you."

He laughed softly, darkly.

"Yet here I am," he murmured, fingers tracing my skin, "laying the same filthy hands on you... and you're not even fighting back."

I hated him for being right.

I hated myself for letting it get this far.

"Do you remember what it feels like, Beatrice?" he whispered, now brushing his lips near mine, but not kissing me. Just hovering. Teasing.

"Do you remember the way your body reacts to me?"

His hand moved slowly, carefully—too carefully—and his breath touched my cheek.

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"I could have you right now. Strip you bare. Take you right here... and you know what's worse?" he whispered, "You'd feel it. You'd feel everything."

I swallowed hard, disgusted with him—and with myself.

"You're mine," he whispered again, this time near my ear. "You've always been mine. No one will ever know you like I do. No one will ever touch you like this."

Then his tongue touched the edge of my earlobe. He bit down softly, and I gasped. My knees weakened. My brain screamed at me to move, to shout, to slap him—but my body...

My body betrayed me.

He moved to my neck. His lips, hot and damp, found the curve just below my jaw and began to suck. My skin tingled. My heart raced.

And when his hand reached the edge of my trousers, right near the zipper, I knew I had lost control of everything.

Of my senses.

Of my pride.

Of myself.

"O-oh f*ck..." I moaned.

It slipped out. Loud. Raw.

I quickly covered my mouth, eyes wide. Shame hit me like a wave.

Declan pulled back, smirking like the devil himself.

"So... you can moan," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "So even a disgusting man like me can still make you lose control?"

I looked away, humiliated. My face burned.

"Don't worry," he added coldly. "I'm not judging your character tonight. Just giving you a little something... to remind you who really owns your body."

He leaned in again, his lips brushing my skin—when suddenly his phone rang.

We both froze.

"Sh*t," I muttered under my breath.

Declan cursed too, annoyed, and pulled out his phone. Without hesitation, he answered it and put it on speaker.

"Hello boss, we've found him."