Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
STEFANI
The doorbell chimes—shrill and irritating enough to cut through the quiet apartment.
I hurry out of the bedroom where Cutter and Dash insisted I rest. They've been rutting me for days. My vagina has taken an obscene amount of pounding, which I'm sure isn't normal, but I'll take what they give me.
I'm still wearing one of Cutter's shirts, the hem brushing my thighs. The fabric smells like him, and it's comforting… until I open the door.
Two older women stand on the other side. The moment their eyes land on me, their expressions twist with open disgust.
"So, the mayor was right," the blonde one sneers, looking me up and down like I'm shit on her shoe.
The dark-haired woman folds her arms. "Imagine that. His own daughter—a mere whore—trying to sleep her way to the top."
My brow furrows. "Excuse me. Who exactly are you?"
"All you need to know is that we will not allow you to ruin our sons' lives," the dark-haired woman says, her tone dripping with superiority.
I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth.
Cutter and Dash's mothers.
"Mrs. Johnson… Mrs. Ledford, I manage, forcing myself to stay composed. "Would you like to come in?"
I'm polite only because of who their sons are—because I respect Cutter and Dash. Certainly not because these women deserve it.
They snort in perfect unison, like they've practiced it.
The blonde steps forward, chin lifted. "Unless our sons are here, we won't waste our time on the likes of you. We don't dirty ourselves with trash."
Heat floods my face. My hands curl into fists so tight my nails bite into my palms. Every instinct in me screams to defend myself, to snap back and tell them exactly where they can shove their opinions—but I hold it in. Just barely.
"I apologize then," I say, keeping my voice calm—only because I refuse to give them the satisfaction of seeing me crack. "I'll be sure to tell the guys you both stopped by."
I start to close the door, but Mrs. Ledford shoves her hand against it, stopping it cold.
"I wouldn't get too comfortable, whore," she hisses. "You're nothing but a warm body to our boys. They'll marry into good families. Influential ones."
I force a razor-thin smile. "Thank you for the advice," I say, and slam the door in their faces.
My hand trembles as I drag it through my hair. My pulse is pounding. Their words cling to me, making me pause and wonder if I'm truly as filthy as they think I am.
How can Cutter and Dash come from women like that? How can two people be so cruel, have raised men who are nothing like them?
I go back to the bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed, trying to breathe through the knot in my chest. I contemplate what to do. The last thing I want is to bring trouble to the guys, but the thought of being handed over to Mayfield makes my gut twist.
I'm still sitting there when Cutter and Dash come home. Their footsteps echo down the hall, and then they appear in the doorway—both of them grinning.
"Such a good girl, listening to Daddy," Cutter says as he steps inside, already tugging his shirt over his head. "On your knees, Kitten. Daddy wants you to…"
He stops mid-sentence.
Dash's smile fades instantly. He crosses the room and sits beside me, concern replacing the grin he walked in with. "What's wrong, Kitten?"
I give them a small, sad smile. "It seems my sperm donor wants to ruin me in everyone's eyes."
Cutter drops to his knees before me, taking my hands gently. "What do you mean?"
"Your mothers stopped by," I say quietly. "Apparently, they had a little chat with the mayor, and he told them about… us."
Dash exhales sharply. "Oh, fuck. I'm so sorry. Were they nice to you, at least?"
"Nice?" I let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Hardly. In their eyes, I'm nothing but a whore. A… distraction. Someone you'll toss aside when you marry someone appropriate."
Cutter's grip tightens around my hands. Dash's jaw clenches. The air shifts. Their warmth is replaced by something colder… protective.
"Do not worry about what our mothers told you," Cutter says, now taking my face gently into his hands. "You are the only one we'll marry. If it isn't you, then we marry no one."
A small, disbelieving laugh slips out of me. "I can't marry you both. That's… that's bigamy."
"Let us figure that out," Cutter murmurs, brushing a soft kiss against my lips. It's not heated. It's a promise.
"Yeah," Dash agrees from beside me, his hand sliding over mine. "We'll handle that when the time comes."
Cutter nods, his thumb stroking my cheek. "And we'll take care of our parents."
The way he says it—quiet, controlled—sends a shiver through me. It's a relief, because I know exactly what that tone means: they're done letting others dictate my life. Done letting anyone hurt me.
The funny thing is, they've claimed me—claimed ownership over me. Isn't that dictating my life, too? Regardless, for the first time since their mothers showed up, I feel like I can breathe again.
When they see me relax, Cutter stands and brings his hands to the button on his jeans. "Now that we have that settled, it's time to get back on track. On your knees, Kitten," he orders, opening his pants and pulling out his lengthy manhood.
I slide off the edge, landing on my knees in front of him. As soon as I see the meat mucus dripping from his tip, my mouth salivates. I open my mouth and stick out my tongue to accept him.
"What a greedy little, cum guzzler." He grins while stroking himself. "You will not come this time. We're going to see how long we can deprive you of your orgasm.
Cutter slaps his veiny meat on my tongue before thrusting it to the back of my mouth. He chuckles when I gag around him. He continues using my mouth, even going as far as pushing all the way into my throat and plugging my nose, all while Dash rubs my sensitive nub.
Only when my vision begins to blur does he pull out and allow me to breathe. Dash continues the torture on my clit, and I hump his hand. He slaps me each time I do.
"Don't you dare fucking come, Kitten," Dash says, a knowing look on his face. "Daddy won't like it."
Instead of shoving his cock back into my mouth, Cutter takes Dash's. They moan simultaneously, and then, Cutter starts fucking Dash's face, hard and fast.
He doesn't come in our mouths, though. Instead, Cutter hauls me up and spins me around. I'm bent over the bed, and he pushes into me hard and fast, giving me another load for today.
Cutter drops beside me, grinning. "You're up, baby boy. Fill our Kitten full, and then we can eat."
I'm taken again, and instead of feeling dirty like I should, according to their mothers, I feel loved… wanted… and that's when I make up my mind.
I'm not running away from this.