10. Cassie #2
I’m a little afraid to try to pull my wrists free. If I don’t try, I can believe he would release me if I asked him to. If I try and he doesn’t…
I shake it off, heart pounding. What am I thinking? It’s Tor. He’s not going to… force me to do anything. He’s been protecting me.
Licking my lips, I pull tentatively at one wrist, but his grip stays locked tight, his hands like shackles that won’t let go.
I swallow with some effort, my throat suddenly tight, then I whisper, “Please.”
I don’t want to put into words what I’m asking for.
When his eyes open, I get the feeling he was so lost in his own pleasure that he didn’t even realize he was holding on so tight.
He lets go of the wrist I’m tugging on now, and my shoulders sag with relief.
Now that I’m not completely trapped, I reach around his neck, sinking my fingers into his dark hair. I pull his body close to mine and hold on while he continues to fuck me.
The tension begins to build again, his hips slamming into mine as he drives his cock deep into my pussy. Harder. Faster. My walls squeeze him tight, the muscles in my thighs starting to shake again.
He pulls out suddenly, flipping me over onto my hands and knees. I gasp in surprise when he grabs a fistful of my hair, shoving me down until my face meets the pillow.
“Ass up.”
Heart skittering, I push my ass up.
He shoves into me again, and when he does it from this angle, the sensation is different. The pleasure he triggers feels more urgent somehow.
I gasp when he sinks deep in a single thrust, not giving my body time to adjust.
He resumes his brutal pace in this position, but the friction hits differently than it did before. The tension inside me ratchets tighter. He fucks me so hard that my stomach starts to hurt, but all I can focus on is the swell of pleasure threatening to spill over the dam inside me.
And then the dam breaks, and the pleasure comes crashing over me so hard I can’t catch my breath. My cries are smothered in the pillow as he fucks me through it, groaning low in his throat and gripping my hips so hard it hurts as he continues to thrust.
And then he groans, long and deep, and I feel a rush of warmth and wetness as he explodes inside me.
His death grip on my hips eases, a satisfied sigh slipping out of him as his whole body relaxes.
His weight presses down on me, his cock still buried inside me, but I’m not complaining.
He presses a tender kiss against the back of my shoulder, and I smile sleepily into the pillow.
“Wow,” I murmur.
I feel a rush of hot breath against my skin. “Agreed.” He shifts his hips, and his cock slips out of me, then he moves off me and settles into the spot beside me on the bed.
I’m feeling soft and grateful from the flood of pleasure, so I turn to face him. He reaches for me, and I happily snuggle in close to his chest. “That was… intense.”
“I hope so,” he says, lightly amused.
“I’m going to really enjoy thinking about that when I’m in prison.”
He rolls his eyes, squeezing me tighter. “You really think I’m going to let you go to prison after that? How would I fuck you again? Not an option, I’m afraid.”
“Conjugal visits. You’d have to marry me,” I say solemnly.
“If you insist,” he murmurs, tilting his head and brushing his lips against mine.
I smile sleepily, looping an arm around his neck and sliding my fingers through his hair. When we’re done kissing, I settle against his chest again.
“You’re not on birth control, are you?” he asks, probably just realizing he practiced absolutely no restraint, and I currently have his cum leaking out of me.
“Nope.”
“We should probably look into that.”
“Imagine I had your baby in prison. Your parents would be so pissed.”
A soft laugh escapes him. “I mean, I don’t think that would be my primary concern, but yeah, they probably wouldn’t be thrilled.”
“You’d have to be a single father.”
“I don’t think I’m cut out for that life.”
I smile. “You mean you’re not eager to be kept awake all night trying to soothe a cute little dispenser of stinky diapers? That’s crazy.”
“I’m open to it someday, but full-time on my own while my wife is in prison seems… less than ideal.”
I chuckle at the ridiculousness of the image my mind conjures of Tor Walters pulling diaper duty while I’m locked behind bars in an ugly orange jumpsuit with DOC stamped across the back.
“Yeah, it’s not exactly the fairy tale.” My smile wanes, though, because it is my future.
Not the part involving him or a baby, but the part where I lose my freedom.
“I should have stayed homeschooled. I never would have gone to that party.”
“I remember that. Fifth grade, right?”
I nod. “But stupid me thought I was missing out on something in middle school so I asked if I could go back.”
“Why’d your mom pull you out in the first place?” he asks, absently caressing my hip.
“My mom and Frank had just gotten married, and they wanted to have a baby together. She got pregnant, but… the baby was stillborn, and she lapsed into a really deep depression. She couldn’t get out of bed to take me to school in the mornings, and my stepfather was already at work so he couldn’t take me, either.
We ended up deciding it would be better to just pull me out for the rest of the year and let me do school at home while she recovered. ”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah,” I murmur.
After a beat, he asks, “Why didn’t you just take the bus?”
“I was afraid to. I used to take the bus. Then, when I was in second grade, this bully who was the size of a house sat in the aisle seat next to me—I liked the window seat, so I always slid over—and when it was time for my stop, he wouldn’t move so I could get out.
All the other kids got off, and the driver didn’t notice that I didn’t.
He kept driving the rest of his route, and Danny—the jerk—was one of the last to get off.
At that point, I was embarrassed to tell the driver and didn’t know what to do, so I just sat there until the rest of the bus was empty.
My mom called the school in a panic because I never showed up at the bus stop.
It was a whole thing, and I didn’t ride the bus again after that. ”
“You should’ve punched that Danny kid in the dick.”
I smile. “Well, I was a sweet-tempered second grader. I was raised to be a good girl, and good girls don’t throw hands.”
He nods. “Spend your life accommodating everyone else, and maybe we’ll give you our scraps and a pat on the head every now and then.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“It’s a great deal. I mean, not for you, but…”
I shove him, and he laughs. “Anyway, I don’t think I qualify anymore.”
“I don’t know. I think we’re a lot more than the worst thing we’ve ever done. I don’t know if you should want to, though. You can be a good person without it being your defining characteristic. Embrace breaking out of that box. The possibilities are endless out here.”
Not for me.
Not anymore.
But I don’t say that.
My body still feels relaxed from the orgasms, and I don’t want to do anything to mess that up. I’m also realizing, now that I’m so relaxed, that I’m exhausted.
“You should set an alarm on your phone,” I murmur, adjusting my head on his arm so I’m more comfortable. “I’d like to get breakfast before I get arrested tomorrow.”
“At Holroyd’s? They serve breakfast all day, don’t they?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Right, right. Getting arrested.”
I nod sleepily, my eyes drifting closed. “Gonna be a busy day. Don’t want to miss my last chance at pancakes and bacon.”
“I’ll set an alarm,” he promises.
“Thank you.”
I never imagined I’d spend any night falling asleep in the arms of Torrance Walters, let alone my last one, but now that I’m here… it feels like the safest place I could be.