Page 85 of The Darkest Hour

In that moment, I was somewhat in control.

I was the one dictating the terms of this twisted exchange.

His reaction, his arousal—it was all because of me, because of something so simple, so natural, that it should have been insignificant.

But it wasn’t.

Not to him.

Not to me.

It was power—raw and unfiltered—surging through me in a way I hadn’t expected.

And as much as I hated to admit it, as much as it made my stomach ache with guilt and something darker, I couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through me. The way my body responded to his obvious desire, to the way he was completely captivated by something so mundane, made me feel a strange sense of control.

And perhaps. . .his reaction was proof that even in my most vulnerable state, I held a power over him that was undeniable. And the realization of that power—as twisted as it was— sent a pulse of dark satisfaction through me.

That’s right you, sick bastard. Look at that pee.

“Fuck.” Slowly, his hand moved up and down the long length of his cock as his eyes locked onto the stream of urine leaving me.

Yeah. Yeah. Take it all in.

The sight was repelling and enticing all at once.

A perverse dance of erotic power.

My bladder nearly emptied completely now, the steady stream splattering on the wet leaves beneath me, while my cheeks burned with shame, power, and arousal.

“Good girl.” Havoc groaned again, louder this time, his body shuddering in response to the obscene display. “O-oh, you’re such a good girl.”

My heart pounded violently in my chest.

The scent of urine mixed with the earthy smell of the forest. It was a sharp, acrid tang that filled my nostrils and made my stomach twirl. I could feel the warmth of the fluid against my skin, the sensation both foreign and familiar, but in this context, it felt wrong.

So wrong.

The liquid pooled beneath me, soaking into the ground, disappearing into the earth as if it had never existed.

And Havoc grunted and groaned until the sound of the urine finally tapered off.

I stayed crouched for a moment longer, my body trembling with exhaustion, confusion, and embarrassment.

“F-fuck.” Grunting some more, Havoc put his cock back into his pants, and I could see it all over his face that he hadn’t wanted to put it away.

Bloody hell. Too bad I don’t have to pee anymore.

He cleared his throat. “Use one of the torn pieces of your bodysuit to wipe that pretty pussy off.”

I remained in that awkward crouched position. “Give me one please.”

Havoc's gaze never left me as he grudgingly moved to where he'd left the pieces of my bodysuit. His fingers, still damp with his own arousal, picked up a torn off piece and approached me.

Next, he tossed it to me without a word.

I grabbed the fabric from midair and hesitated for a moment before I used it to clean myself. The soft material was cool against my heated folds, providing a brief moment of relief from the shameful heat that had ignited within me.

Fucking, bastard.