Fake Dating The Bad Boy-Chapter 61: Driving Me Crazy

Justin POV:

Mr. Mark was still twitching when I pulled the blade from his skin. Blood pooled around him, thick and dark. He didn’t scream anymore — he couldn’t. His body finally gave out, slumping lifelessly to the floor.

I stood over him, my chest rising and falling slow. I wasn’t shaking — I was burning. But I held it in. Not because I had to. Because I had time.

I left him there, ruined and unconscious, and made my way to the bathroom. Water hit my skin like fire, washing away the blood, but not the heat crawling under it. I wasn’t clean. Not really. Not yet.

Not until her.

I walked straight to June’s room. The moment I reached the door, I heard her scream.

I shoved it open fast. She was in bed, her body tangled in sheets, panting like she’d run through hell. Her eyes met mine, wild and wet, then widened.

"Justin," she breathed, like I was the only thing keeping her alive.

She bolted upright, gasping from whatever nightmare she’d escaped. The moment her eyes locked onto mine, she reached for me—desperate, hungry—and crushed her lips against mine. Her kiss was fire. Raw. Insatiable.

God, it was hot.

I met her with the same intensity. Hands roamed wildly—my shirt ripped off, her trousers stripped down. My pants, her shirt—gone in seconds. I dove for her breasts, full and perfect, her nipples already hard beneath my tongue. She moaned, arching into me, her body begging for more.

Our clothes came off in quick, rough tugs — no ceremony, no talking. Just the sound of breathing, gasps, and the soft rustle of fabric hitting the floor.

Her shirt.My jeans.Her underwear.Gone.

Her skin was warm, flushed. Her nipples already hard, begging for my mouth. I took one between my lips and sucked, slow and deep, until she arched against me with a cry. My hands roamed — greedy, firm — and she responded like she’d been starving for me.

She was soaked.

My fingers found her center, slick and pulsing. I slipped inside, curling them just right. She cried out, already close, her body shivering under my touch.

"Fuck," she gasped. "Don’t stop—"

I didn’t. But I wasn’t going to let her fall apart that easily.

I pulled my fingers out and lined myself up with her entrance. My cock was throbbing, thick, already slick with her arousal.

One deep thrust — and she screamed my name.

Her body clenched around me like she’d been waiting forever. I moved slow at first, deep, watching every moan fall from her lips, watching her come undone underneath me.

I flipped her over, pulled her hips up, and slid back in.

Harder.Deeper.

Her hands gripped the sheets. My name broke from her mouth over and over, each time more desperate. I leaned forward, pressing my chest to her back, and bit down on her shoulder — not gently.

I wanted her marked.Claimed.Ruined.

"You’re mine," I growled, dragging my tongue over the bruise I’d left behind.

Her moans were still echoing in the room, a symphony of surrender. Her body trembled under mine, slick, spent, and utterly fucked. But I wasn’t done.

Not even close.

I drove into her harder, deeper — my hands gripping her hips like she might float away if I let go. She gasped, fingers clawing at the sheets, her back arching as another wave rolled through her.

"Justin..." she breathed, half-whimper, half-warning.

"Shh," I murmured against her ear, my voice low, dark, thick with hunger. "I’ve got you."

I slid one hand beneath her, fingers finding her clit, already swollen and soaked. I circled it gently at first, then with more pressure, timed to the rhythm of my thrusts. Her body jolted.

"F-Fuck—" she gasped.

She was close again. I could feel it in the way her thighs quivered, how her breath hitched, how her pussy clenched around my cock like she was trying to keep me inside her forever.

"Come for me again," I ordered, lips at her neck. "I want to feel you break."

And she did.

She shattered with a cry that made my whole body lock. Her back arched, her muscles clenched, her walls tightened around me with desperate rhythm. Her orgasm ripped through her like it owned her — like I did.

Her body trembled beneath me, her breath ragged and desperate as I held her pinned to the mattress. The room was filled with the sharp scent of sweat and sex, the air thick with heat. My hand gripped her waist tightly—possessively—as I drove into her again, and again, and again.

She cried out, her voice hoarse from pleasure and pain and something deeper—something primal. Her nails raked across the sheets, clutching at anything to ground herself. But I didn’t want her grounded. I wanted her unmoored, undone, lost completely in me.

"Say my name," I growled into her ear, voice rough as gravel. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

"Justin," she gasped, arching back into me, her body greedy for every inch I gave her.

Again. I needed to hear it again.

"Louder."

"Justin!" Her voice cracked as she screamed it, her body convulsing, tightening around me.

I grabbed her by the hair, pulling her up so her back was pressed to my chest, her spine arching as I thrust deeper. My lips found her throat again, biting now, marking her—not just a love bite, but a warning. A claim.

She was mine.

She whimpered, head falling back against me, and I felt the way she trembled—not from fear, but from the weight of needing me the way I needed her. Obsessive. Consuming.

My other hand slid between her thighs, fingers slick with her arousal as I rubbed her, slow and deliberate. Her hips jerked, caught between the pace of my thrusts and the torment of my fingers. She was close again—already. So sensitive. So responsive.

"You love this," I murmured into her ear, "Don’t lie to me. You love how I ruin you."

She choked out a moan, and I could feel it—how her body begged for release. I twisted my hips, hitting the perfect angle inside her, and her legs gave out.

Her orgasm slammed into her like a wave crashing against rocks—violent, sudden, beautiful. Her scream echoed in the room, her body clenching, pulsing around me until I couldn’t hold back anymore.

It dragged me right over the edge with her.

I buried myself deep, groaning through clenched teeth as I came hard — every pulse of release claiming her from the inside out. My vision blurred. My breath stopped. And all I could feel was her — tight, warm, soaked in me.

I stayed inside her for a long second, buried to the hilt, her body still trembling as I collapsed forward, pressing her into the mattress.

Silence wrapped around us, thick and humid.

Then I moved, gently turning her beneath me so I could see her face. Her eyes were heavy, lips swollen from kisses and cries. Her skin glowed with sweat. Her chest rose and fell like she’d just survived a war.

I pulled her against me, her head on my chest, arms wrapped around her like she was the only thing keeping me from unraveling.

She didn’t speak. Neither did I.

Her fingers traced lazy patterns over my stomach. I kept one hand in her hair, grounding her... grounding myself. I was still hard. Still wanting. But for now, I just needed this—her.

There was blood on my hands. A body in the other room. And yet... here I was. Holding the only thing in this fucked-up world that felt real.

And I knew, with a kind of violent certainty, that I’d burn the world to keep her.

*********

You’d think after that hot intense sex she would be worn out?....nah

She collapsed against me, her body trembling with the aftershocks, skin slick and warm. But even as I held her, trying to savor the moment, she shifted.

She turned in my arms, eyes wild and dark, pupils blown wide with hunger. Her lips—red, swollen from our earlier frenzy—curled into a wicked smile.

"Don’t stop," she whispered, her voice hoarse, breathy. "Fuck me until I pass out."

I stilled, staring at her. Those words lit something in me—something dangerous, possessive, animal.

Before I could answer, she pushed me down against the bed, straddling my waist like she owned me. Her fingers traced the muscles of my chest, nails dragging lightly, teasing. Then her lips followed—soft at first, but with a growing urgency. She kissed down my throat, her tongue flicking against the sensitive skin. I shuddered, already hardening again.

Good fucking lord.

She moved lower, her mouth pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses across my chest, nipping at my ribs, biting just hard enough to leave marks—her version of a claim. She wanted me to remember this. Wanted me ruined by her.

And I was.

Her lips reached the base of my abdomen, and I swore under my breath. My cock twitched, aching for her touch, already fully hard again. She looked up at me through her lashes—so goddamn smug—and then wrapped her lips around the head of my cock.

"Fuck—" I growled, fists clenching in the sheets.

Her mouth was heaven and hell combined—hot, slick, sinful. She took me deep, her tongue swirling, her throat flexing as she swallowed me down inch by inch. She moaned around me like it was her own pleasure, and that sound sent fire ripping through my spine.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

I looked down at her—at the mess she was making of me—and I couldn’t fucking breathe.

"God, you’re going to kill me," I rasped.

She didn’t stop. Her hands gripped my thighs, holding me down as her head moved in slow, devastating rhythm. Her eyes never left mine—taunting, challenging. She wanted to break me. And she was getting close.

My hips jerked and I nearly lost it, but I forced myself to hold back, gritting my teeth. Not yet. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction so soon. She pulled off with a wet pop, licking her lips, smug as sin.

I sat up fast, grabbing her by the throat—gently, firmly—pulling her in until our mouths met again. The taste of me still lingered on her tongue, and it only made me kiss her harder.

"You want to be fucked unconscious?" I growled against her lips. "You have no idea what you’re asking for."

She smiled—wild, unafraid, starving.

"Then show me."