Chapter 17
Sophia
The Expectations
Iexpected a bed.
I’m not sure why, but when Grant bent me over the table and told me not to move, then walked away, I frowned.
Most men took you to a bed. It was boring and unoriginal, and I guess I just expected Grant to be the same way.
All talk of a big game, but when it came to deliver, it was missionary in bed while I pretended to enjoy it.
I’d even mastered the art of squeezing my pussy, pretending to orgasm. That’s how good I’d gotten.
All aspects of my life were pretend. But watching Grant in his wet jeans as he dug through a drawer in the kitchen, my stomach grew tight with something I hadn’t felt in a long time—anticipation. Real anticipation.
I didn’t even want to ask what he was getting.
I was enjoying the nervous build-up, and the promise of making me orgasm so many times I couldn’t count was making my thighs tremble, trying to quell the ache.
I turned my head away and pinched my eyes closed, testing the strength of the belt wrapped around my wrists behind my back.
Grant’s voice was rough as he bent over my shoulder. “You regrettin’ your choice?”
I flipped to rest my other cheek on the wood, glaring at him. “It’s funny how you call these things you keep grantin’ me choices.”
“Just because you don’t outright say what you want, doesn’t mean I don’t see it burnin’ in your pretty blue eyes.” He jerked on my restraints, lifting me from the table an inch. “You did tell me to touch you, or did you forget already?”
“Touch me, not…not this.”
“You expect me to believe you like it sweet?” He made a tsking noise as he tapped the insides of my feet. “If it gets to be too much, say, ‘hat.’” The cold air rushed to meet the wetness slicking my inner thighs, and I shivered. “I can see your pussy dripping, darlin’.”
“I was just in the hot tub.”
“Excuses, excuses.” He pushed two fingers inside me roughly, letting my body fall back to the table, and I moaned. “Did the hot tub seep into your cunt?”
“Screw you.”
“You’ll be begging for that when I’m through.”
“You arrogant—oh, hell.” I moaned louder as a vibrating sensation rubbed over my clit, working with his fingers. I instantly ground against it, seeking more. “W-what is that?”
“You’re panting. Sounds like I’m already winnin’.
” I felt like kicking him since he hadn’t tied my legs to the table, but the sensations he was giving me were too overwhelming.
He added a third finger, making me cry out as he said, “It doesn’t matter what I put near your pussy, you’re goin’ to take it until you can’t anymore.
Understood?” I nodded my head frantically, pressing my hips back on his fingers right as they curved, hitting that spot deep inside that made my eyes roll back.
“You’re so fuckin’ desperate to come, aren’t you, Peach?”
“Yes,” I whined without an ounce of shame. “Please.”
The vibrations started moving in circles, teasing my clit as his fingers fucked into me harder. Deeper. The wet sounds coming from my pussy were lewd. He leaned over my back and bit my shoulder, groaning. “I can’t wait to bury my tongue inside this tight cunt of yours, Peach.”
“Please,” I begged. “I’m so…so close.”
“Already, huh?” Grant chuckled as I squirmed, my hips bucking into the table with the force of his movements.
He hadn’t been wrong about me wanting to fuck him, wondering what I’d forgotten two months ago.
The curiosity niggling in the back of my mind all this time.
The ways I’d picture him while I touched myself, even though I knew just how forbidden and useless wanting him was.
One thing was very clear—
My mind and body simply weren’t prepared to enjoy it this much.
“Atta girl, darlin’.” I moaned Grant’s name as the pressure in my lower stomach built. “You look so fuckin’ incredible takin’ my fingers in this hot little pussy.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Grant. I can’t—” The pressure turned hard like stone, my body constricting like a coil. He pulled his fingers from my pussy and teased the entrance of my ass, applying gentle pressure.
“You can, and you will.” The tool he’d been using to vibrate against my clit clanked to the floor, and his fingers picked up where the device had left off, only it felt so much better with his fingers—circling, pinching, and flicking.
Driving me to madness. “Yes, baby. Come all over my fingers. Let me feel you lose control. You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.
” He pushed a finger inside my ass, and before I could tell him not to touch me there, I screamed his name, convulsing at the touch.
It hadn’t felt like that before, it always hurt.
But this didn’t hurt. It felt…so damn good.
I couldn’t tell which way was up or down as my body ignited like a thousand matches all striking at once.
His tone turned gravely as his soaked fingers met my back and swiped down while his other finger pumped slowly in and out of my ass. “That’s one, so far.”
He crouched on the floor between my quivering, spread legs and before I could move, his mouth was on my sensitive pussy. He added another finger inside my ass as his tongue thrust into me.
“Fuck, you taste so good.” His words vibrated around my clit as I whimpered, twisting my wrists to expel the building pressure that hadn’t fully come down yet.
Grant chuckled against my center, making me groan in frustration.
“Think a second one is ’bout to hit you, ain’t it, darlin’?
” I muttered something incoherently as my lids fluttered, every sensation heightening.
“You think I can’t make you come still?”
“Grant, oh…fuuu—” I made a sound I’d never heard come from my lips before, something between a whine, a moan, and a guttural cry curling out from my diaphragm.
My toes curled in against the wood as Grant devoured me whole, making similar noises to what had just come from me.
When he decided to stop making me squirm, he moved into my line of view and knelt down low, his eyes and lips glistening.
“You’re so fucking beautiful all spread out like this.
Like my own private buffet.” His tongue darted out to lick his wet lips and he smirked, pushing some hair from my face.
“I sure hope I’m not wearin’ you out yet, Peach.
We’re just gettin’ started.” He walked away, and seconds later, I heard the sink running.
When he returned, he walked behind me and slid a finger casually inside me.
“I want you to feel your cum as we keep count.” He laughed as I moaned, then drew another line on my back—keeping a tally.
“There. Two.” My fucking god, he was really going to go until I passed out.
“For this next one, I really wish I liked sharin’.
I used to be open to it, but with you…I don’t think I like that idea too much.
It would make it a lot easier if I did. But since I don’t, and we’re out here all alone”—he stepped around to face me again, holding something cylindrical and long—“I had to get creative.” My eyes widened at the marble paper towel holder in his hand.
“If you wanna tap out, remember to use your safe word, or you could always tell me I was right.”
“And if I don’t?” I whispered, still trying to steady my breathing.
He shrugged. “Then I guess I’m going to have a lot of fun watching you ride this while I fuck your mouth.
And when you come on that, I’ll let you choose what hole gets filled next.
But we ain’t leavin’ this cabin until I have all of you.
Until all those marks on your legs disappear and the only one you’re left with is my cum, inside and out. ”
I shuddered at the thought, my traitorous pussy begging for him to do all of that and more. “By tomorrow, we’ll both hate the sight of each other. You won’t even care if I had kept count or not. Maybe I won’t even remember it, just like last time.”
He chuckled. “Nah, darlin’. This night will never be leavin’ our memories.”
“You’re wrong,” I found the strength to say. “I already feel you leavin’ my system as we speak.”
A thumb and forefinger wrapped around his chin as he cocked his head down at me, a sardonic grin spreading across his face.
“Is that right? Hmmm.” Grant chose then to reach for the button of his jeans and pop it open.
Kicking off his jeans, I got a clearer look at the bulge busting through his boxers.
My lips parted as his widened. “Tell me, Peach.” He palmed his cock over his black boxer briefs.
“Do you want to taste me as badly as I’ve wanted to taste you?
” I licked my lips at his words, and he groaned as his thumb smoothed over the thick head near his waistband, right beneath a tattoo of two rose stems. “Tell me you want me to fucking wreck you.”
“Grant—”
“Choose your next words carefully, Sophia.”
“I…” I pinched my eyes closed, knowing there was no going back from this. “I want you.” As my eyes popped open, his flared—bright, like a full moon behind a cloudy sky. “I want you to wreck me. Give me everything.”
The part of me that knew I was supposed to marry someone else, someone I didn’t pick for myself, had gone silent, replaced by chills that seeped into my bones.
I let my body be led by him, moving me from the table and helping me down to the floor.
The way he moved, the softness to his features—he was so at ease and gentle.
Like he was handling something—someone—he really truly cared for.
I tried to focus on that as my heart pounded in my chest. Even though my mind couldn’t focus on the reality of my choices, my body had been trained long ago.
“I’ll give you more than that.” Grant’s deep voice, and the relief of my wrists being freed, briefly pulled me from my thoughts—from memories I didn’t want resurfacing.
Not now. “Time to get on your knees, darlin’.
” But that would be too easy, and nothing in my life had ever been easy.
Like a switch, I was no longer in front of Grant.
“I bet she’d look great on her knees. What do you think, boys?”
A resounding laugh echoed in my head, but the world remained black. They’d blindfolded me in my sleep, and though I knew I wasn’t in my bedroom anymore, I knew at least one of the men who’d been laughing. He was the one who always initiated these nights since the first time I allowed it to happen.
“I call dibs on her ass.”
“You can have it. I want her mouth.”
I heard the crack before I felt a burn searing along my side.
It’d be a welt by morning, but still, I begged for more like a broken record.
Just like I’d been told to do. I didn’t know why my pussy was wet when I woke up, and I had no clue where I was, but I was sure he was there.
Instructing. Watching. Getting hard at the sight of me in pain.
But that thought—the thrill of his arousal—wasn’t enough to make it not hurt when he let them have me, too.
“Hear that, Princess? Every single hole is going to be filled, and none of us are willing to go gentle. How does that make you feel?”
I whimpered, unable to answer with the ball gag in my mouth.
“Always so ready to take us all, aren’t you?” he said aloud, evoking a few grunts of laughter. His next words were just for me in my ear as he said, “You want to please me, don’t you, Princess? To feel more than just my cum leaking down your thighs?”
I nodded as his fingers stroked my hair, catching on a few tangles.
I always brushed it before bed, but he always managed to make it a mess.
The first night it happened, I remembered feeling giddy about it.
I liked the way he called me princess. I liked how getting his attention made me feel special. It’s what I’d wanted for years.
He promised me the world, and I believed him.
I let him do whatever he wanted, as rough as he wanted, for as long as he wanted.
But it stopped making me feel good when he didn’t stop when I said it hurt, and I stopped feeling special each time he let his friends take turns with me, like I was someone to be used.
I thought I was his.
I thought we were each others.
I was wrong.