Taylor observed you from head to toe with an indifferent expression on his face as you stood outside his door, your eyes puffy and red from crying, drenched from the rain. Even you didn’t know why you’re here, but when you caught your boyfriend having sex with another girl less than 30 minutes ago, the only person you felt like you could go to was Taylor.

Taylor leaned on the door frame, his eyes still roaming your body. The silence was too loud and You felt like you were under a damn microscope. Maybe he was enjoying seeing you in pain, maybe he saw it as a little victory for himself. After a long and painful silence, he finally spoke.

"What's your deal?" his voice was gravelly and cold but not entirely dismissive.

Thoughts: Jesus fuck, they're going to catch a cold. And why did they think it was a good idea to drive here during a storm. What a dumbass.

Your enemy || Taylor considered this for a moment before finally stepping aside and opening the door wider. "Fine. But make it quick." He grumbled as you stepped inside, closing the door behind you. He gestured for you to take off your wet clothes in the living room; the fireplace was still lit from earlier, but there wasn't anything else in here that could really dry you up.

Of course it had to be him. Why couldn't you go to anyone else? Well, he supposed that at least you knew who your enemies were... Though there was something about the way you looked now that made his heart twinge a little bit, even if you were pathetic and annoying as hell most of the time. "Just hurry up," he growled, already starting to feel impatient with your presence in his space.

Taylor snorted derisively. "You can't tell me you didn't see that shit coming." He crossed his arms over his broad chest, glaring at the fire for a moment before looking back at you. You were really shivering now, and he couldn't help but feel a tiny bit guilty about it. "Here," he muttered, throwing an old flannel blanket over your shoulders. "Put that on."

He snorted again, a hint of amusement in his voice now. "Like you had anywhere else to go." Of course you knew that he was right; most of your friends had abandoned you long ago when they realized what kind of person you really were. He took a seat on the couch, still keeping a good distance between you. "So... what do you want me to do, huh? Give you some pep talk?" Taylor sneered, looking away from your face again. "I'm not your fucking therapist, you know." He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowed as he considered his next words carefully. "Maybe I could... help you forget about it," he suggested slowly, almost reluctantly.

Taylor raised an eyebrow at you. "I mean... I could help you forget about it for a little while," he clarified slowly, a sly grin forming on his lips. He knew damn well what you were thinking now. Your heart raced, and your breath came faster as the thought of being with him again filled your mind.

But then, he just shrugged nonchalantly. "Or not. It's up to you." There was a moment of silence as his gaze locked on yours, assessing your reaction. He knew what he was doing; using sex as a weapon against you was one of his favorite tactics. The question now was, would it work this time?

With a smirk, Taylor stood up and towered over you, his broad shoulders blocking out most of the firelight. "I can make it feel pretty damn good," he promised with a husky tone in his voice. Reaching down, he gripped your chin roughly, forcing your gaze back to his as he slowly lowered his head. His lips met yours in a hungry, demanding kiss that made your entire body tingle from head to toe.

Taylor pulled back slightly to look into your eyes as his tongue swirled around yours. One of his hands found its way under the thin fabric of your underwear, roughly palming your ass and pulling you even closer. His other hand slid up your waist, cupping a breast through your bra before pinching the nipple hard enough to make you gasp into his mouth.

With a low growl, he finally broke the kiss, breathing heavily against your lips as he gazed down at you with burning eyes. "You like that?" he asked roughly, his voice husky from desire. "Like being used and dominated by me?" He knew damn well what you were feeling; he could see it in your dilated pupils and the flush on your skin.

"You're mine now," he growled, pulling you closer until your bare chest pressed against his. "I can do whatever I want to you." With that, he lowered his head again, capturing your lips in a possessive kiss as one of his hands slipped between your legs, roughly parting your folds and teasing at the sensitive bud hidden there.

"Feeling better yet?" He asked when he finally pulled away, watching your reactions with satisfaction. His fingers curled around your throat gently but firmly, leaving no doubt who was in charge here tonight.

Taylor's smile turned predatory as he sensed your submission and surrender to him. He slid his hand lower, grasping your aching arousal through the thin fabric of your underwear, slowly stroking in rhythm with each rough thrust of his hips against yours. His other hand traveled up your body again, cupping a breast roughly before pinching the nipple hard enough to make you cry out his name. "Yeah," he growled into your ear. "That's it. You belong to me now." As his touches grew wilder and more possessive, so did the hunger in his eyes deepen. He was enjoying this power over you; the way you looked at him with such need and desire. And while he knew it wasn't real love or anything close to it... well, for now, it would have to do.

Taylor growled low in his throat as he felt your body tensing beneath him, the hot liquid spilling over his fingers. With a savage thrust of his hips, he emptied himself into your hand, grunting roughly as he came. His grip on your throat loosened slightly as he panted heavily against your neck.

For a moment, there was silence except for the sound of their ragged breathing and the crackling fire in the background. Then, with a sneer, he pulled away, wiping his hand on his jeans before glancing at you disdainfully. "Get your clothes off," he said curtly. "I'm not going to clean up after you."

Taylor watched you strip with cold eyes, taking in the sight of your naked body as if it were nothing more than a worthless object. He didn't care what you looked like or how attractive he found you; all that mattered was winning this stupid game between the two of you. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he fought to control the urge to just grab you and take what he wanted again.

Finally, when you were completely naked in front of him, he growled out, "Get on your knees." You obeyed without hesitation, sinking down onto the floor between his spread legs. His cock twitched at the sight of you so close and vulnerable; it had only been a few moments since they'd last been together, but already it was hardening again with the desire to be inside of you.

With one rough hand on your shoulder and another gripping

Taylor sneered down at you as he roughly grasped your hair, pulling your head back so that you looked up at him. "Shut the fuck up," he growled. "You're here because I let you be." His free hand wrapped around his aching erection, already staining the tip with pre-cum.

"I can make this feel good... or I can make it hurt," he warned darkly. "It's your choice." With that, he pulled you forward roughly and thrust his hips toward your mouth, forcing his cock past your lips and into your eager mouth in one rough motion. His hands held you tightly against him as he began to fuck your face, relishing the feeling of control once more.

Your moans vibrated against his skin, causing Taylor's movements to become even wilder and more possessive. He knew that deep down, you belonged to him