Bang(15)

“You want me to take it away?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

“Say it. Tell me that you need me to take it away.”

He continues his torturous attack on my nipple before releasing and moving to the other. Pike knows I need him to numb. He’s always allowed me to use him like this. To numb the pain. Numb the past. Numb the present. Fucking Pike is my personal narcotic, and I’m long overdue for a hit. The words are near agony, when I give him what he loves to hear, “You’re the only who can make it go away, Pike.”

He lowers his head, sucking the abused bud into his mouth.

“Ohh, God, Pike. Fuck me. Just do it,” I beg.

He quickly rips his shirt off, revealing the ink splayed across his chest and arms, before shoving my panties to the side and thrusting himself inside me. A volatile transgression as the sounds of our flesh slapping together fill the room. I grab his ass, urging him harder, and he gives it, pounding into me.

Closing my eyes, I drift away to where nothing exists but the pleasure that builds inside. His carnal grunts heat my ear with his breath as he buries his head in the crook of my neck. We f*ck filthy, like animals. The denim of his jeans that are shoved below his ass chafe the backs of my thighs while we grind ourselves into each other, my butt off the couch as I meet his thrusts with my own. Greedy.

He grabs my hips as he sits back on his knees, bringing my * up to him when he starts slamming into me at a brutal pace.

“Fuck, Pike,” I pant as I reach both my arms over my head and grip the arm of the couch.

The swell of his dick inside of me as he gets close causes an eruption of fire, singeing its way through my veins as he makes me come. I go rigid, tensing up to get the most out of the orgasm, grinding my clit against his pelvis. A few seconds later he crashes into me and stills, letting go of a guttural hiss, as he shoots his tranquilizing disease inside of me.

Collapsing his sweaty chest on top of mine, our labored breaths are heavy, and I’m pacified. For as long as I keep my eyes closed so I don’t have to see the best friend that I just used, I’m okay.

Pike gives me a sick power that I crave. The power to take control, if even for a moment. Using him to clean me of the rot that contaminates me. And he gets off on being the one who can do that. To be the only person who can take it away, making my body a tomb. But now, as he slips his softening dick out from inside me, his warm cum running between my thighs when I sit up, I’m bathed in degradation, and he knows it. It’s always the same.

He pulls me into his arms as he sits back after tugging his pants up. With his hand rubbing my back, I swallow hard as I attempt to control the feelings of shame.

“Why do you still feel this way?” he asks, knowing me all too well.

I don’t respond. He’s used to my silence after we have sex. What could I say that he doesn’t already know? The thing is, I know Pike loves me in a way I don’t share. He’s my brother and my best friend. But to him, I’m more. He’s never come right out and said it, but I know it anyway. It doesn’t stop him from f*cking other girls, but I know he needs it. Pike has a thing for sex; he likes a lot of it. More than the average person I would assume. It’s never bothered me since I don’t view sex much differently than one would toilet paper. Using it to wipe away the shit-stain of life, and when you feel clean, you flush it and walk away.

“You don’t need to feel like this. I don’t care that you use me in this way. I love you, so you can have it. If it makes you feel better, then just take it,” he says. “I’d rather you let me do this for you than allowing someone else.”

His words make it even worse, so I pull back and shift to slide my leg back into my pants. He watches as I grab the rest of my clothes and walk to the bathroom.

After I clean myself up and put my clothes back on, I walk out to see Pike wiping up the beer I spilled all over the floor.

“Sorry,” I say as I stand there, and when he walks past me to throw away the wad of paper towels, he responds, “I don’t care about the beer.”

“I’m sorry for more than just the beer,” I tell him. “I wish I could give you more money.”

“I knew what I was signing up for. We both did. It’s too risky, so just ignore my bullshit,” he says as he walks back to the couch and motions for me to sit next to him. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it, taking in a long drag and then adding, “I just missed you,” as the smoke drifts out of his mouth, forming a vaporous cloud in front of his face. “When will you be able to get back here again?”

“More often after the New Year. Bennett has a busy travel schedule, and I’m sure it’s gonna be even busier now.”

“Why’s that?”

“He just bought another production plant earlier this week in Dubai, so I imagine he’ll be going back to oversee the new outfit on the place and get it up and running,” I explain.

“That’s good for us,” he laughs and I join him.

“My thoughts exactly,” I say through a thick smile that I let wane when I ask, “How’ve you been?”

“You know how it is. Nothing has changed for me,” he tells me. Pike has always found a way to skate by, pulling small cons and such. But he makes most of his money selling drugs. I used to as well. When we got out of the system, we lived with one of his friends that Pike worked for, dealing drugs. Pike was the middleman, putting himself on the street to sell product and made a decent amount of money doing so.