Freckles

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

FRANCESCA

My heart thumps too quickly to pick apart the individual beats. I’m dazed; from Alice’s threats, the failed hiding attempt, the revelation that Ezra filmed one of the most shameful moments of my life, then shared the video.

“It’s okay,” Kincaid whispers, a soft puff of reassurance. His hands cup my shoulders as he bends his knees, gaze level as he searches my expression. “We can pause for a break if you need to.” A smile tugs up the corners of his mouth. “But you won’t need to, will you, Freckles?”

His voice is warm, dropping a note deeper with every word until it’s a low rumble. When he tilts his head, a gust of breath flutters the curls beside my cheek.

“Undo your buttons.”

I try but my hands shake, and I can’t grip the tiny rounds.

“Let me.” Kincaid flicks his wrist, and the button goes flying, a glimmer of silver in his hand. When he sees me looking, he shows me the knife. “Don’t worry. It’s not to hurt you.”

With a practised hand, he teases my nipple with the pad of his thumb and even through the thickness of my blouse and bra, it becomes a tight, firm peak.

“You’re going to enjoy yourself as much as I do.”

I try to drop my gaze, to get away from his probing eyes, but he lifts my chin.

“Don’t worry about your reactions,” he murmurs. “They’re all perfectly natural. Neither one of us needs to be embarrassed, okay?”

His eyes are glassy as he combs his fingers through my hair, rubbing a lock between his fingers like he can’t believe it’s real.

Then his gaze moves to my face, lingering on each feature, and his expression deepens into wonder. The flecks of bronze in his amber eyes shine like a newly minted coin.

No one’s ever looked at me that way before.

A spark of heat ignites deep in my belly, and I don’t resist when he leans forward, brushing his lips against mine, his tongue licking the same path a moment later. I shift on the table, closing my eyes at the added friction. A memory intrudes, Ezra thrusting his cock into my mouth, clogging my throat.

“Don’t anticipate,” Kincaid growls. “That shit will make you panic.”

His fingers cup my neck, thumb still clamping the knife, and the handle warms against my skin.

“Stay in the moment. If I think you’re drifting…” He pinches my nipple, and I jump, the pain soothed away by the rub of his palm. “I’ll bring you back. Pay attention to your body, just like I will.”

He waits for me to settle before placing the blade under the next button down, cutting its thread as efficiently as the first. His calm gaze monitors me before moving to the next… and the next… until the sides gape open, my skin retracting from the exposure.

“You’re so pale.” He places the tip of the blade on the centre of my bra, eyes searching mine. “Are you nipples as ginger as your freckles, or the same pretty pink as your lips?”

Panic surges for a new reason. The blouse is school issue, nothing special, but he’s threatening my favourite bra. “Please don’t. I can’t—”

Afford it. But the words stick in my throat.

Tongue-tied, my cheeks heat with shame and I blow out a puff of air.

“No cutting your bra. Got it.”

I nod, and he withdraws while I peel off my cardigan, the ruined blouse, and my bra, folding it neatly on top. His gaze never strays from me, the intensity back. The appreciation.

From what I know, Kincaid goes through multiple girls a week and I wonder if this is how he always acts. Staring like they’re the most incredible thing he’s ever seen.

His rough thumb brushes my bare nipple until it stiffens further, becoming so sensitive it aches. He bends, closing his mouth over the hard bud, flicking it with his tongue while his large palm supports me, thick fingers splayed across my back.

I gasp, head spinning as the suction of his mouth twangs a cord inside me, sending a rush of sensations through my body.

My back arches and he pulls my hips closer, the wet warmth of his mouth a balm to the coarser surface of his tongue.

“You’re so sensitive,” he mumbles, moving from one breast to another, then back again. “I love it.”

Wave after wave of pleasure spills across me. This is nothing like it was with Ezra and there’s never been another boy to compare.

I tip my head back, staring blankly at the ceiling and bite my lip as his stubble brushes against my sensitive skin. I don’t know where the knife has gone, but his hands are empty as they caress my body. His fingers delve between my legs, knuckle rubbing against a growing damp patch in my panties. I tilt my hips, chasing more, then whimper as he withdraws, lifting me from the massage table, and setting me on my feet.

“Now, kneel,” he commands, and I obey, barely aware of the hard floor under my bare knees as my gaze comes level with the bulge of his sweatpants.

He hooks his thumb through the elasticised waistband, pulling it down until his cock springs free.

I gape.

There were rumours but… I shake my head. My chest tightens until it’s painful to breathe.

His cock is huge.

Cupping my chin to hold me steady, he rubs the head against my lips, letting out a satisfied hiss. “Do you want to hold me?”

I nod, wanting to please him. His cock isn’t just long, it’s girthy. When I grasp hold, it dwarfs my hands, turning them doll sized.

Kincaid grunts, hips thrusting towards me as I wrap my fingers around him, surprised at the velvet softness of his skin. Large veins twine along his length, making his cock look rougher than it is.

“You’ll do fine,” he says in a gentle tone, and I try to believe him. “Just take it slow.”

I open my mouth and lean forward… then chicken out at the last moment, turning my head aside so my cheek brushes against him instead, and he laughs softly. “It’s really not that scary.”

“Says the giant,” I mutter, and he chuckles harder, fingers again combing through my hair.

And it’s his easy manner than enables me to try again. This time, I manage to take him inside, my lips closing over the fat tip and giving a tentative suck.

He hums and the sound sends a wave of static energy coursing over my head, making me shiver as I let him slide deeper. Even two inches feels big given his girth and saliva pools, then spills from my mouth.

“Don’t worry about making a mess,” he rumbles while my eyelids flutter. “I’ll clean you up once we’re done, good as new.”

I fight to take more of him inside—the extra enough to make my nose prickle and my eyes water, but the added inch nothing compared to the rest of his cock.

A shudder works through me and my jaw locks in place. Open but not able to move wider.

Panic rises, burning through the oxygen until my lungs strain for more.

His fingertips spread across the crown of my head, gently pressing. “Eyes on me.” The calm tone soothes me as I follow his request, straining to meet the gaze so high above. “That’s my good girl.”

A shudder of pleasure greets the gravelly burst of praise, doubling when his knuckles rub against my cheek.

“You can’t take all of me, but you can take more.” The softness of his voice doesn’t undercut his certainty. “Right now, you’re fine. Run your tongue along the underside when you pull back—”

He breaks off and sucks air through his teeth, igniting a pleasurable shiver between my shoulder blades.

“Yes,” he says, and the word has a thousand hissing esses for a tail. “Just like that.”

Under his guidance, it’s easier. I concentrate on the signals from his body, learning the rhythm of his thrusting hips. My hands control how much of him is allowed inside my mouth and set the pace, enjoying the sounds that escape his throat.

Even on my knees, struggling to breathe and swallow, there’s an intoxicating sense of power.

“If I asked, would you touch yourself? Would you show how much you’re enjoying this?”

I flinch at the suggestion, and he withdraws from my mouth.

“No?” He sits on the bench and lifts me to straddle his lap, cupping my pussy with his large hand. My hips jerk forward in response, a jolt of excitement hitting my clit until it throbs. “What about if I do it for you?”

His fingers thread into my hair, then clench, tugging at the roots until my scalp burns. His mouth is on mine, greedy thrusts of his tongue making me moan. Pressing the heel of his palm against me intensifies the friction until I’m giddy.

Teeth nip at my lower lip, close to drawing blood, then he sucks it into his mouth until the pain eases.

When he pulls away, my lip throbs from the welcome abuse.

“I bet your pussy tastes so good, Freckles.” The rhythmic stroke of his palm stops and his fingers skate along the elastic band of my panties, then slip inside, tips running along my seam. “Has a boy ever made you come?”

“No.”

“You like that enough to beg me to do it again?”

I shake my head.

“Really?” his gruff voice teases. “Because it looks like you’re enjoying yourself.”

His finger circles my entrance, and my muscles clench as they struggle between drawing him deeper and pushing him away.

A thick slurping noise has me mortified that my arousal is intense enough to wet his hand. He tugs my panties lower, fingers returning to my dripping pussy, smearing the wetness all the way back to my hole.

My breath hitches as he repeats the motion, then I give a sharp gasp as he presses a finger inside me.

Just one, and barely, but it’s enough to burn.

“Fuck.” He bends his head, licking along the side of my neck. “You were wet a second ago and now you’re soaking.”

His finger strokes through my folds until I’m trembling.

“Beg me to fuck you,” he mumbles, eyes lidded. “Tell me how much you want me to fill you with my cock.”

I jerk forwards, alarmed, hands pushing against him. “N-no. No, you said—”

He covers my mouth with his, sucking away the words I didn’t have the chance to say. This time when he nips at my lower lip, I taste blood.

“I know what I said, but are you listening to the demands of your body? Can’t you sense yourself straining for more?” The disappointment in his voice makes my stomach clench. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?” His breath is hot in my ear, then his tongue licks the side of my neck, teeth grazing my skin. “I could make you feel so good.”

His girlfriend?

My mind stutters, trying to work out what’s gone wrong. I hunch my shoulders and twist away, but he moves quicker, his arms steel rods around my waist. My chest constricts until I’m breathless.

His fingers continue to stroke my pussy, circling my clit, dipping into my entrance and all the time pressing harder, harder, harder until the friction increases to the point of pain.

“Stop,” I whimper, a tear escaping to slide down my cheek. Any enjoyment has been lost to a tidal swell of fear and in a burst of panic, I shout, “Let go of me you fucking psycho!”

His finger slides out of me, and he stands, lowering me to my knees on the floor.

I open my mouth to scream, and he jams his hand inside, muffling my yell, clamping my tongue in place and surging so deep my eyes water. I gag on the taste of myself, saliva coursing forth in a wave until it dribbles over my lips, coating his fingers.

“Watch how you talk to me,” he says in a flat voice. “Because if I were a psychopath, for the five grand this is costing, I could make a call, and someone will find you tomorrow with your knickers twisted around your ankles and your pretty face obliterated by a shotgun.”

Adrenaline surges through my bloodstream.

I can read the truth in his blank eyes.

Like the flick of a switch, he changes direction again, withdrawing his fingers from my mouth and crouching to hug me tight. He drags my head into the curve under his neck, his lips buzzing against my ear.

“Shh,” he whispers. “It’s okay. If you don’t want me to fuck you, I won’t. You don’t want to come on my fingers, you don’t have to. Now open your mouth and keep your gag reflex under control for the next few minutes, then you can be on your way.”

He presses on my chin, and I open my mouth as he stands, too frightened now to risk a protest. The head of his cock nudges back inside and he thrusts his hips, bumping against my hard palette.

“Relax your shoulders,” he orders. “Open your jaw as wide as you can.” When I stiffen, he tugs a lock of my hair. “No. Don’t think. Just obey me. Open your jaw like you’re doing the biggest yawn ever.”

The muscles are already sore, but I open wide, fighting the urge to tense as his eyes fix on me.

“See. You’ve got a big fucking gob. All you need to do is stretch around me.” He’s reverted back to his original persona like he flicked a switch. “It’s not rocket science.”

My lips stretch around him again and he lets me set the pace. Even when he surges deeper, bumping the back of my throat, he withdraws so I can swallow the resulting spit out of the way and leave the way clear to try again.

His fingers soften on my hair until he’s stroking me, massaging my scalp with his fingertips, brushing strands of hair back from my face, the ends wet with my drool.

“Fucking hell,” he says, other hand cupping my neck, stroking behind my ear, massaging the top of my spine. “That’s so much better.” His eyelids droop like he’s sleepy, a soft smile curving his sculpted lips. “You’re a natural.”

The praise seeps into me until I’m buzzing. Followed by an immediate shot of guilt that I’m deriving pleasure moments after he scared me.

“That’s the way, Freckles. You’re doing so well.”

His voice grows stronger, louder. A new ache pulls inside my chest.

“Just like that,” he moans as I let his fat cock batter against my throat, aching as he gives a final groan and thick liquid pulses onto my tongue.

“Hold it.”

Slowly, he eases back enough for me to inhale through my nose, a thin stream of air that’s cut off as he gently pumps back into my mouth, adding another smaller spurt of cum before withdrawing, tucking himself away.

“Show me,” he croons, pulling me to my feet.

I open my mouth and cum spills over my bottom lip as he tilts me back and forth.

Then he roughly shoves his tongue into my mouth, licking, syphoning his release from me, sweeping his tongue across mine to ensure he gets it all. The slow suction along my tongue as he withdraws makes my centre throb with an unresolved ache.

He licks along my lips and around them, finding the last traces of the creamy drops before his eyes meet mine, dancing with fresh enjoyment. “That was perfect, Freckles, but you’re not allowed my DNA until you’ve earned it. I know how you poor girls have your tricks.”

White hot ribbons of shame course through my body. A late tear slides down my cheek and he catches it on the ball of his thumb, licking it, savouring the taste.

“Your eyes turn turquoise when you cry, did you know that?” He runs his knuckles down my cheek, expression crashing into softness. “You’re so fucking pretty.” He hands me my bra, then opens his locker and withdraws the rugby shirt he must have worn for today’s game. “I’ll replace your blouse but if you wear this, everyone will know to leave you alone.”

I pull it over my head, the sweat and mud from his recent game soaking into my skin. The musk of his body and deodorant and aftershave combine, growing stronger as my body heats the fabric. The scent makes my mouth water, and I take a few surreptitious sniffs.

“You know I like you, Francesca. You could be my girl.” He bends to kiss my cheek, then stays there, not saying anything more, his stubbled cheek scratching against mine.

I’m too confused to answer. Was that a question? Surely, he can’t expect me to say yes.

Finally, he sighs and straightens, opening the exit door.

Alice leans against the wall, right outside. Her eyes narrow as she sees me in his shirt, folding her arms and giving a sniff.

Kincaid glares at her. “Francesca’s under my protection. You or any of your bitch-arse friends lay a finger on her and I’ll fuck you up.”

I sidle past her, and turn, wanting reassurance this is a one-off and I never have to speak another word to him in my life.

But he closes the door.

“Any friend of King is a friend of mine,” Alice says and gives me a knowing smile. “But don’t get used to it. The moment he tires of you, and he will, you’ll be fair game.”

She saunters along the corridor, twiddling her fingers in a mocking wave before exiting.

After a minute, I follow, crossing the quad with tense muscles, my speed increasing until I’m sprinting for the student parking lot and the safety of my car.