Gant
The hit. At first, it’s nothing more than a blur of darkness.
But as the windshield shatters and the car zooms beneath the streetlight, a shimmer beside the glass raining down on me embeds itself into my eye.
A shimmer of forest green.
Not black.
Stay.
Stay present.
But the ornament. She saw it too.
She’d touched it.
It was a man. A white man.
A middle-aged white man with pale grey eyes.
That’s something.
That’s more than something.
Elle’s just given me what the CCTV cameras couldn’t.
Stay present.
But it’s damn near impossible with my mind whirring as fast as the memory of the oncoming car.
Focus on Elle.
On her silky red hair that grazes her shoulders on every sloppy pique turn.
On her breasts that bounce from the motion.
On her green eyes that are so familiar yet so different and so alive.
On the fact that she may be a victim too…
On the fact that she may not be your biggest enemy after all.
But maybe your biggest witness.
But if I have a new enemy to focus on, what does that make Elle? She’s been my reason, my fuel for this long. If I strip away my hatred... What’s left?
“You’re not extending enough,” I say on her third pique as we run through another portion of Cinderella’s choreography. “Then when you step down, your knee is bent, and the other leg kicks too high. It looks more like a controlled hobble.”
To Elle’s credit, she never seems overly defensive. She’s pliable, and that’s important for improvement.
“Do it again in the mirror and watch.”
When she obliges, I make us do it together and immediately she can spot the difference, judging from her expression.
“Again,” I say, leaning against the barre. “Focus on keeping that leg straighter, and the kick lower.”
While she focuses on that, I refocus on something else.
The green car.
But not just the green car. The connection between Elle and I. We’d both been hit and now I can’t stop the intrusive thought that both accidents weren’t accidents at all.
What are the odds that there were two forest-green vintage cars on the exact same road at roughly the same time? Just a kilometre or two apart?
As we transition into Grand Jete’s, pirouettes and finally Grand Adage, I don’t know who’s more relieved when the session comes to an end, me or Elle, but for very different reasons.
We need to talk, but I still need Elle to be great. I can’t shift her focus just yet, not during our limited sessions, no matter how badly the questions burn in my skull.
“You learn fast,” I say, watching as Elle runs through a sequence we learned last class one final time. With the small corrections, she’s marginally better. It makes me wonder how much better she would’ve been if she’d had the right instruction from the start.
Not that my own mother was much help. She had her preconceived opinions on who fit into the ballet world and who didn’t just by looking at them. It’s the main reason she’d dissuaded Stassi’s parents from signing her up at her dance studio while being utterly gutted that Aria only dropped in for sessions to help with her ice skating. Aria could’ve been a great ballerina, she’d always say, completely ignoring the potentially great ballerina in front of her. Elle.
“You explained what I was doing wrong really simply. It just clicked,” she huffs in between sips of water. “Mistress Errard’s given me a lot of pointers, but it’s hard to digest when they’re cushioned with so many insulting similes. Still, she’s probably the most helpful instructor technique-wise that I’ve ever had. Well, except for you.” She looks away at the last part, taking another swig of water.
“So you admit I’m a fantastic instructor?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“And when I prove it to you? By keeping you right where you belong in the advanced class. With me.”
“If you can keep me from getting demoted to intermediate, I’ll call you whatever you want.”
“Your baby?”
She freezes and then licks her lips. “Whatever you want, Gant.”
I stalk closer to her, grabbing the barre and resting my elbows on it so I can peer down at her because suddenly I want something, desperately. “I want my kiss.”
It always catches me off guard how damn cute she is. How damn innocent. I’ve touched her pussy. Spit on her slit and yet she’s startled by the idea of kissing me for a third time. What, does she find it too intimate? More intimate than when I stroked her walls?
“You still have eight more questions.”
“Later,” I drop to a squat in front of her. “I want my kiss now.”
“What are you doing?”
She tries to move, to step back the way she always does when I get too close to her. Even in the greenhouse, she kept creeping up the table, all the while wanting me to suck her clit. But all she’s doing is backing herself up into a corner, right against the cool pane of the narrow window.
I know I’m right about her, that she likes being chased. Cornered.
By me.
“I didn’t say where I wanted it,” I say, gripping her thighs and settling between her feet again. Of course, I would claim the lips on her pretty little face too, but those weren’t ready for me yet. Not like my slit that’s been dripping since the moment I walked into the studio, patiently waiting.
“Here? Anyone could see.” Her eyes flicker to two narrow, floor-to-ceiling windows. Through the dark pane, all we can make out are the shadows of the surrounding shrubs that sway in the night breeze.
“It’s just a little kiss, Elle.” I gaze between her parted legs and reach for her covered slit. She doesn’t stop me as I stroke her. “Or is it that you want more than a kiss?”
She squirms, but her wriggling only presses her clit harder against my fingers even as she tries to close her legs.
“I’ve been sweating for nearly an hour.”
“Your point?” I ask as I continue to stroke her. “Wouldn’t matter if you were sweating, or bleeding or crying. You’ll be doing all three by the end anyway.” Curling my finger through the crotch, I tug the fabric so hard, that she slides on the hardwood, falling onto her back, her knees wide open, her hands shooting out to grab my arms.
The flimsy fabric gives way and I stare at that sweet, fat pussy only separated from me by those sheer tights.
A little whimper leaves her throat as she takes in the pretty sight with me.
“You want that, don’t you, dove?” I ask, inching between her thighs. “All you have to do is ask. Plead. Beg. And I’ll give you what you need.” I lick her neck and savour the slight saltiness right around her quickening pulse. “What you wanted ever since you laid eyes on me.”
I search her gaze for any truth in my projection. I’d wanted to fuck Elle at first sight, and my sheer hatred and now begrudging understanding only intensifies the feeling.
“You’re the one that’s just torn my clothes and you think I have to beg?” It’s barely a whisper.
I nod, licking the hollow of her throat. She tastes so good. “Just like you did in the greenhouse.”
“I did not.”
“You don’t have to verbally ask to plead. You were purring. You were trembling.” I look into her eyes. “You were watering for me.”“And yet you’re the one on your knees,” she says, “begging to kiss, to taste my pussy. Finally.”
A slow smile stretches my lips at her new boldness.
Giggles just outside the window echo in the wind, as do footsteps as a group of girls, mostly obscured by the bushes, make their way down the path towards the dorms.
Elle stares out the pane. “How would your minions feel knowing that they’re trying their damndest to help you, yet behind closed doors, you’re desperate for your own enemy? Won’t they feel betrayed that you’re committing treason? That you’re literally trying to sleep and lie with the enemy? The one commonality they think they share with you?”
I grasp her chin and make her look back at me again. I hate the fact that those girls were able to snatch her attention away from me for even a second.
“You don’t know me at all if you think I give a singular fuck what any of those mindless idiots think.”
“Mindless? Is that why you’re able to control them? Manipulate them?”
“They’re little lambs, and I’m merely their shepherd.”
“Shepherds care about their sheep.”
“Until it’s time to sacrifice them.”
“You’d sacrifice your army for some pussy?”
“I told you, you aren’t just some pussy. Some hot hole just to stick my dick into.”
“But you still haven’t told me? What makes me so special? Better even. Any girl on campus would give you what you want without bartering. Without you having to beg or play these games.”
“You say that like I don’t already know that. Like you don’t already know that.”
“Then?” She lifts a brow. “Is it that this game is just more fun than the others you can play?”
“This game is the only one that matters because you’re the other player.” She has no idea how deep my obsession runs. “I haven’t fucked anyone this year.”
She looks taken aback, then confusion knits her brows. “But those rumours in Beaussip—”
“Lies.”
She shakes her head slowly. “I’ve heard the girls talking. Kesia—”
“Is a liar who uses dick riding to climb the social ladder. She wants to be like her master and head bitch, Rin. She wants to infiltrate our little circle. She wants to become an untouchable before graduation. Last summer she bragged about fucking Bae, which is bullshit because he’s a virgin.”
Pure shock settles across her features.
“This time it’s me. She tried, but my dick just doesn’t get hard for anyone else. Do you get it now? I just want to devour you, so maybe that translates into every way humanly possible.”
“And then what?”
“We’ll find out. Together.”
“This is insane…” But her expression doesn’t relay the insanity. My little dove’s excited. “But I’m starting to think…that maybe I’m just as crazy as you are.”
Her eyes dart to the window, to the swaying bushes, and then to the moon. Then me.
“That maybe you’re right about me needing to open up.”
I pepper a kiss across her collarbone. “I always am.”
“Even when it comes to me being too tight,” she says, ignoring me. “You agreed to our interlude if I give you what you want. The chance to snap that little band of tension inside of me. Maybe then I can relax.”
I trail another kiss to the hollow of her throat, then the swell of her breast. “You’ll do more than just relax,” I say, pinching her nipple through her leotard before licking it. The wetness turns the pale lilac fabric translucent, and that perfect shade of her pink nipple shines through.
She squirms, a little whimper already building in her throat as I alternate between licking and sucking her delicate flesh.
“You’ll scream.”
Lick.
“Cry.”
Suck.
“Moan.”
And she does as I suck harder, the wet spot spreading just like the one beneath my fingers as I stroke between her thighs.
“Then you’ll beg me to do it all over again.”
“But what about after?” she asks, her breathing already growing ragged.
“Rinse and repeat.”
“But our interlude will expire,” she says, gripping the back of my head as I move on to her other nipple. “Since our agreement will come to an end, I was thinking about moving on to something bigger.”
Confusion, revulsion, and pure fury coil in my stomach and creep through my veins as I pull away from her nipple and her grasp as I peel her fingers from my neck. Because what the fuck is she getting at?
“What?”
She tries to take her hand away, but I grip it tighter, crushing her fingers. I must look demonic because her voice trembles when she says, “Y-you kept going on and on about the tightness of my hips. I mean, after my starter,” she gazes down at my rock-hard cock stabbing her stomach. “I could move on to someone who could really make a difference. Someone who could open me up more than halfway.”
The gurgle of saliva and rattle of air she squeaks out as I grip her throat is blood-curdling, but mine’s already curdled. I glare into her eyes, which are so wide I swear they’re making room for her soul to leave her body.
The mirror makes a crackling sound in protest as I slam her back against it. She sputters as I drag her up from the floor, and back onto her feet, onto her tiptoes. She struggles to stay grounded as I tower over her, her nails stabbing at my wrists, but once again my little dove isn’t trying to pry me off of her. Instead, she’s holding on for dear life.
“Are you implying that you want someone else’s cock?”
“It’s just,” she sputters again, and I ease my hold just enough so that she can get the words out. “If I’m going to do something like that, it should count, right?”
“Count? Did you just fucking say count?”
“I mean, it would make sense to let you go first since it’s my first time. That way I could start off smaller, but I really want the full experience.”
What the fuck is she playing at?
She licks her lips, a gleam in her eye despite my hold on her. “And since our agreement would come to an end anyway, maybe I could try someone else after. Someone like Hale or Zedd?”
Red, it’s all I see as the fringes of my vision grow hazy. It’s creeping up on me. That manic craze I can’t control.
Like when I sit in a car.
Or when I touch something clammy and cold.
Even as my grip grows tighter, she grows bolder, licking her dry lips. “You would know better than me seeing as you share a dorm and locker room with them. You could tell me who’s the biggest? Or since you like games so much, we could all play Goldilocks and find out who’s the best fit?”
The blood rushing through my ears feels like a fucking tsunami.
“You say that even as my cock’s stabbing you above the navel?” I tighten my hold again and she gags, no longer able to spew her bullshit. “Do you want me to show you just how tiny my cock is while I’m rearranging your guts? Just how much it wouldn’t count when you’re begging me to stop? When you’re watering from both holes, the one taking my cock and your foul mouth that’s choking on its own saliva when I send you off into another dimension.”
I slide my fingers into her tights and curl them into her dripping slit.
“Look how excited you are. Do you think anyone else can make you this wet? You think anyone can make you come harder than I can?”
“Gant!” she sputters, as I use my grip in her hot channel to lift her off the floor, pinning her between my chest and the mirror.
I’ve never been this deep inside her. I don’t think anything’s been this deep inside her. She wraps her legs around me and damn near purrs as my fingers slip over her G spot relentlessly.
“Ohhh.”
That’s what I thought.
“Please.”
She tries to get away from me as her body tenses, soaring towards a climax. Unclasping her legs she slides down with the mirror’s slippery assistance and I let her.
For less than two seconds.
She falls to all fours and attempts to slip between my legs. Perfect. I drop to my knees, with my back to her head and pin her torso flat against the floor. Instinctively, her legs flail and I use the opening to my advantage, slipping my fingers right back into her quivering cunt.
“Gant please!”
I massage her silky walls and use my grip to hike her ass high in the air, pressing that sweet spot harder, faster, in a come hither motion.
“Please what?”
Her response is a strangled moan.
“Look in the mirror,” I hiss. With my free hand, I grab her long ponytail and force her to turn left so she can watch the show with me.
Watch my fingers work her aching hole that’s gripping me so tight, there’s no way she can take all of my cock at once.
Watch her slick coating my fingers more and more as they disappear and reappear, strings of moisture trailing my palm.
“You think you could drip like this for someone else?”
She only coos, trying desperately to creep forward in a feeble attempt to get away from my onslaught.
“You think you could create such an intense symphony for another cock? Listen.”
And we listen together at the slapping, squelching, wetness.
I increase the pace, and the sight of her back entrance pulsing rhythmically with her contracting pussy makes my cock drip with pre-cum.
“You’re making such a fucking mess,” I say, watching her wetness move down my wrist. I pull my fingers free, sheathing my other hand a half second later, this time with three fingers she can barely take. I move my soaked hand to her gorgeous face and sprinkle it with a flick that makes me imagine my cum exploding on her. The second she gasps, I shove my fingers down her throat.
And my dove sucks them almost as hard as her pussy clamping down on my fingers.
Yet she’s fighting, fighting the urge to roll her eyes back into her head. They flicker up to meet my gaze in the mirror, then directly as I turn to peer down at her. The second we make eye contact, something snaps in her and she gushes, her legs losing control, but I maintain it for her.
Freeing my fingers from her greedy throat, I curl my arm around her torso, keeping her ass high in the air for her.
“Gant!” She’s too damn weak to do anything, even as her fingers grip the back of my shirt and tug, begging me to let up.
“You have your word,” I say, bending down and flicking her clit with my tongue.
“Not here!” she whimpers, but her squirms only work my fingers deeper. “I can’t. Not here—”
Letting me go, she tries to drag herself across the floor, crawling to get from beneath me, but I grab her ankle and drag her back into place, back onto my fingers.
The motion makes her fucking seize, but I know she won’t break as another orgasm overrides her. I won’t let her escape until it fully passes. No matter how hard she begs. Not that she can. She can’t even talk. And when she finally gasps for breath again, it’s like I can see her soul slip back into place.
That’s when I finally show her grace and let her pussy quiver in peace with aftershocks.
Turning around, I rub my fingers against her swollen lips and watch as she sucks them into her mouth again like a pacifier, like she’s trying to soothe herself on me. I should shove my cock into her mouth and let her use that instead, but I don’t want to interrupt the pretty sight. The pretty mess she’s making all over her chin and cheeks as she massages her tongue against each digit.
Feeling her throat contract and watching the aftershocks of her pussy and asshole doing the same nearly makes me explode.
“Mention another cock in front of me and I’ll make you stare at it, detached, while I fuck you unconscious. There are no other try-ons. No, try-ins. Your pussy was made for my cock and my cock alone. No one else gets near it and gets to walk away after. Do you understand me?”
Those beautiful pools of emerald peer up at me. Into me. And my dove doesn’t hesitate. It’s almost imperceptible, but she nods.
Not good enough.
“Tell me.”
“Only you,” she pants out weakly.
Such a good baby.
I look at the cracked door. At her still outstretched arm.
I may have risked a finger fuck, but there’s no way I’ll do that again. No way I’ll risk anyone seeing my baby in pain and bliss when I fuck her.
“I think I’m right about you. That you like when I chase you. You want to fly don’t you, dove? You want to fly and you want me to chase you? Hunt you.”
She says nothing, she can’t. She’s still wet and whimpering.
“You want me to catch you around your pretty little neck? You want me to split you open and eat you? Devour you.”
She licks her lips and nods yes slowly.
“Fifteen seconds. That’s all I’m giving you to fly. If I catch you, I’ll spear you. Understood?
Another little nod, then she’s scrambling to her knees, then her feet.
The exterior door to the building slams shut a second later.