Chapter 7 #4
Elias grabs me under my thighs, quickly setting me on the edge of the desk and ripping my thong down my legs, and then, just as quickly, thrusts into me. Only the tip slips inside, and I cry out while he works it in, inch by inch, stretching me until I take all of him.
He grits his teeth as he fills me, holding it there, buried inside me, while he pulls my top over my head. Then, he grabs my bra, tearing it from my body and ripping the closures, causing me to gasp, before he tosses it aside, too.
With his eyes on my tits, he throws my legs over his shoulders, bracing himself with his arms on the desk while slamming his long, hard dick into me, fucking me hard and fast. I whimper with every thrust of his hips, each one somehow deeper than the one before.
"There you go, Saige. How's that feel, baby, huh? Is this what you wanted? Did you miss getting torn apart by my dick?"
He's so big, I can feel it in my back. It fucking hurts, but Dax was right about me—I like it when it hurts.
"Elias…" I moan, my toes curling. "Fuck…"
I reach for him, for anything else to hold on to while he fucks me senseless, using my body, the desk banging loudly against the wall while its contents fall onto the floor.
I end up with my fist wrapped around the collar of his shirt, and then there's a loud, long rip as the shirt tears down the middle.
"Fuck!" he shouts. "That was one of my favorite shirts, you greedy little slut."
"It…it…" But he doesn't let up, and I can barely get the words out.
"What? Speak up, little sister, or did I fuck your brains out?"
"…It wasn't that great."
Rage flashes in his green eyes, and I can't help but smile before his hand wraps around my throat again, pushing me flat on my back against the desk. I cry out, both at the new angle and the sharp corners of the items on my desk digging into my back as he drills into me.
"Ow, fuck!"
"Yeah, I hope it hurts," he growls, continuing his punishing pace. "You fucking deserve it." My pussy throbs around his massive cock, the orgasm building, bringing me closer to the edge. "You want to talk shit while you're screaming on my dick, Saige? You're lucky I don't fuck your ass like this."
Genuine fear takes me for a moment, and he smiles.
"Don't worry, baby. I'll get to it, but I'll make sure you're ready for it.
As ready as you can be, anyway…" He tightens his grip on my throat, and I choke before I can't take any air in at all.
"That's better. You look so pretty when you just shut the fuck up and take my fucking dick. "
Gripping his forearm, I squirm against the table, tears filling my eyes again while the objects on the desk continue digging into my flesh.
I watch his abs flexing, his thick cock moving in and out of me, and the tension at my center decides it doesn't really give a fuck about the pain or lack of oxygen.
Maybe it even likes it. I come so hard, it's embarrassing.
My hips lift off the desk, my legs shaking as I writhe against Elias's dick. He releases my throat, and I gasp for air before I scream.
"Fuck! Fuck—oh, my god. Elias…"
"I told you I'd give you want you wanted, you little slut," he groans. "Fuck, your pussy's so tight, Saige…"
"Elias…" My eyes roll back in my head.
"That's it, baby. Come on my cock while I use your tight little body however I fucking please."
"Yes…yes…"
"Why do you have to be such a fucking dicktease with me? Stop keeping this from me, you insufferable." Thrust. "Fucking." Thrust. "Brat." He grabs a handful of my hair, pulling hard, grunting when I scream, and then leans down, digging his teeth into my breast.
"Fuck!" I shout, pushing at his head until he lets go. Tears sting my eyes before running down each of my burning cheeks. "That hurts."
"Say that again."
"It hurts…you're hurting me."
"Is it too much for you?"
"No, I like it," I whimper. "I like it when you hurt me."
He fucks into me faster. "Yeah, you do, don't you?
Because you're mine to hurt, aren't you, little sister?
You're mine to use any. Fucking. Way. I.
Want." Green eyes filled with lust look into mine, and he moans, clenching his stubbled jaw while he comes inside me, tremors running through his body, the sounds he makes causing my pussy to clench around him. "Fuck!"
When he finishes, he looks at me, and then the hand in my hair pulls me off the desk and to my feet.
I stumble, but don't fall.
"Lick it up," he growls, his breath heaving. "Clean up the fucking mess you made on my cock with your mouth—now."
I drop to my knees and take him in my mouth, eliciting a hiss while I slowly suck him clean.
"That's it. See, you can be taught to listen, can't you?" His dick falls from my lips, and I stand, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
As Elias shrugs off his torn shirt and adjusts his pants, I turn away, holding my breath and blinking back tears.
"Can you please go away now?" I curl up into a ball in my bed, facing the wall, and pull the blankets over me.
Elias sighs before the mattress dips, and then he lies down beside me with his chest against my back. "Jesus, Saige," he says, draping his arm over my body. "Are you going to do this every time?"
I choke back a sob. "Why do you care? You like it when I cry, right? It shouldn't be a problem for you."
"It's not a problem for me. But I'm worried that it will be a problem for us."
"There's no us, Elias."
"That's not true, and you know it." He presses his lips to my neck and then laces his fingers with mine. "Why'd you get so upset when your friend hit on me earlier, then, hmm? Why do we keep ending up like this?"
"Poor judgment."
He chuckles. "I can't really argue with that. But you're mine, Saige. You're all there is for me. And I think you'll feel better when you just give into it. You won't have to do this anymore."
"We're siblings."
Elias laughs again. "We are not siblings."
"I love Dax and Nolan."
He tenses. "Well, you'll have to tell them, too. You'll have bruises on your chest and neck, and they're going to wonder why."
I turn over. "You did that on purpose."
"Not to that end," he says, running his fingers over my throat. "I just like looking at them. It reminds me that you belong to me. The little cuts and scrapes on your back…" He presses his lips to mine. "I like those, too. You're the first girl I've kissed since high school—you know that?"
I shake my head, and he pulls me into his chest.
"I love you, Saige. We're not doing anything wrong."
I don't reply, but it feels wrong. It feels really fucking sick and wrong. This part—seeking comfort from him—feels even worse than the fucking. This isn't who I know him to be.
"I have to go," he says. "I have another class, and I don't have a shirt anymore, and then I have practice. Are you coming to the house later?"
"No."
"No? Why not?"
"Because I don't live there."
He scoffs as he climbs out of bed. "Well, there isn't a good reason for that."
"Dax is going to stay here with me tonight," I tell him, unable to meet his eyes. "He said he was going to the gym early since you have practice, and he'd bring dinner."
His expression drops. "You think I can't do stuff like that? I can do anything Dax can do for you." He pauses, waiting for me to answer. When I don't, he shakes his head, and then says, "Actually, that's great. I'll tell him about that little plan of yours—see what he thinks about it."
Again, I don't reply. I watch the veins in his hands and forearms as he laces up his boots, and it crosses my mind that I find them beautiful. That's a pretty fucking twisted way to think when they've been the source of such cruelty for me.
"What are you staring at, Saige?"
"Are you really going to go out there without a shirt?"
"Is that your way of asking me to stay?"
"No."
"Wouldn't be very responsible of me," he says. "And I just begged the coach to put me on the roster and told him what a team player I was. But if you miss me, you know where to find me."
I sit up, holding the sheet against my body. "I won't miss you. Or find you."
Elias laughs. "Yeah, okay, baby." He leans in, kissing me again, and before he pulls away, I place both hands against his scruffy cheeks and kiss him back. "It's okay, Saige," he whispers against my lips.
I look away, and he sighs, taking a step backward, then he leans over and grabs my black hoodie from the floor. "You know, it is pretty cold. I'm taking this."
"That's my favorite one!"
"Well…" Elias pauses as he pulls it over his giant head, and I swear I hear the goddamn seams pop. "You know where I'll be if you want it back."
It doesn't even cover his belly button. "You're stretching it out!"
"That's what she said."
I scowl, and he smiles.
"See you later, sis. Love you."
"Don't call me that. Actually, don't say any of that."
Elias laughs. "I'll see you at the game tomorrow. You better be there, Saige. I'm serious—I'm doing this for you."
"I didn't"—he closes the door before I finish the sentence—"ask you to do anything for me."
I quickly cross the room, bolt the door, and then catch my reflection in the mirror.
I run my fingers over them—the marks on my neck and chest—and think for the first time that maybe he does love me.
How fucked up is that?
I have a head injury. This has to be part of it—it's a symptom. How do I bring that up during my next telehealth visit?
I need another shower.