Chapter 21 #2
“You wanna keep talking shit?” Another brutal thrust, and I can’t breathe. “How about I fuck you until you forget every other person you thought was good?”
He pounds into me, relentless now, hands gripping my hips so tight I’ll wear bruises for days. My body bends to his will, helpless, overwhelmed, trembling.
“Who owns this pussy?” he demands between thrusts. “Say it.”
“Y-you,” I gasp, tears brimming as pleasure and pain blur together.
“Louder.”
“You, Sir!”
“Damn right.” His pace becomes punishing, dragging me right to the edge. “You’ll never forget this dick, Blair,” he growls. “And after I ruin you, you’ll thank me for it.”
Every thrust knocks the breath from my lungs, every filthy growl making my clit throb with insane, unbearable pleasure.
I’m already so close. I shouldn’t be. But the pain, the domination, the way he’s using me without apology… it’s everything.
“I’m gonna come,” I gasp. “Please, please…”
He pulls out.
I scream again, not from pain this time, but from denial.
“No,” he snarls. “You don’t come until I say.”
I’m shaking now, nearly crying, my body clenching around nothing, desperate.
He grabs my throat, dragging me up so my back arches against his chest, and growls into my ear, “Say. You’re. Sorry. Say it like you mean it.”
I bite my lip, breath heaving. My whole body is on fire. And he knows it.
But still… I shake my head instinctively, too stubborn, too full of pride, even now, even when I’m dripping and shaking and fucked stupid.
He flips me onto my back like I weigh nothing, crawling over me like a predator, pressing his cock against my entrance again.
“Beg,” he says. “Beg for this dick. Beg like a brat who knows she fucked up.”
I glare at him, lips trembling, my pride hanging by a thread.
He taps the head of his heavy dick against my clit, making my whole body jolt.
“You wanna come? You wanna feel this dick split you open again?” Another slow drag of his cockhead down my folds, making me whine. “Then say it.”
I break.
“Please,” I whisper. “Please, Sir, I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t move.
“Not good enough,” he says.
My whole body arches toward him, needy and wrecked. “I’m sorry,” I cry out. “I was being a fucking brat. I shouldn’t have said that. Please, please, I need your cock, Sir. I need you to fuck me. I need it so bad I can’t fucking think…”
“Hello?”
We freeze.
Someone’s here.
“Anybody home?”
My eyes go wide. So wide I’m surprised they don’t pop straight out of my damn skull.
“Abigail?” I whisper, horror crawling up my spine like ice. “Oh my God.” I scramble to get up but nearly collapse. My legs are jelly, shaking like I forgot I was just getting fucked into a coma.
But nothing sobers you up faster than hearing the voice of the fiancée of the man who was about to make you forget your own damn name.
“Don’t panic,” Calvin says, maddeningly calm as he pulls up his pants like he didn’t just try to fuck the soul out of me.
His dick is still hard, proud, completely unbothered by the literal emergency we’re in.
He’s fully dressed, save for the hard-on he can’t quite tuck away, not that he seems to care.
You wouldn’t be able to tell he was just balls-deep in his fiancée’s little sister.
Unlike me, hair a mess, lips swollen, thighs shaking, and a very obvious just-got-ruined glow all over my damn face.
“Are you kidding me?” I whisper-shout. “If she finds me in here, we’re both dead! Where the hell are my shorts?”
I start spinning like a maniac, eyes darting across the room. There’s no time. She can’t see me like this. It’ll break her. I’ll break her. Plus, this is not how I die.
“Relax,” Calvin murmurs, completely unfazed, bending down and picking up my shorts from the floor like we have all the damn time in the world. He hands them to me without a care.
I snatch them from him. “You need to take care of that.” I point at the very obvious problem straining his zipper. “You can’t just walk around with a damn hard-on.”
He smirks. “You should’ve thought of that before telling me you’ve ‘had better.’”
“Oh my God, this isn’t the time to be smug,” I hiss, yanking my shorts on and grabbing my camera from the floor, then my Kindle from the bed. I glance around the room. Thank God I didn’t leave anything else. I tried not to keep stuff in here for exactly this reason.
Calvin leans against the wall, arms crossed like we’re just chatting in a coffee shop.
“I hate you,” I say as I tiptoe to the door, cracking it open to check the hallway.
Clear.
I slip out like a damn ninja, heart in my throat, sprinting barefoot down the hall to my room. Once I’m inside, I slam the door and make a beeline for the ensuite bathroom.
The cold water is on before I even finish peeling my clothes off. I step under the spray, and the moment it hits my overheated skin, I suck in a sharp breath.
“Fuck.”
Just as I start to relax, the bathroom door swings open.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Abigail’s voice cuts through the steam, and before I can react, she opens the shower door.
“Abby!” I yelp, scrambling to cover myself. “Get out!”
She just laughs, unfazed. “Relax. I used to give you baths when you were little, remember? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” She flashes a grin, completely unbothered by my panic. “I just wanted to say hi. I missed you!”
And with that, she spins on her heel and walks out.
“Hi, miss you too,” I call out weakly, my voice breaking.
The second the door clicks shut, I collapse against the cold tile wall, shaking, water pounding over me like it can wash any of this away.
Tears sting my eyes as the adrenaline fades and the weight of it all finally crashes down. What I’m doing with Calvin is downright dangerous.
It’s the kind of thing that could ruin everything.
I can’t keep doing this. I know I can’t. It’s wrong on every level, and worse, she’s sweet, innocent. She loves me.
And I was seconds away from letting her fiancé come inside me.
My chest tightens. I curl into myself as the guilt claws at me, hot and sharp and relentless. And beneath it all, another ache, raw and throbbing.
I didn’t even get to come.
Fucked, edged, spanked, teased to the point of insanity… and left hanging. Every nerve in my body is screaming. My thighs clench instinctively, trying to find friction, relief, but I’m too shaken to even try touching myself. Too sick with guilt to want it, even as the need lingers.
I press my forehead to the wall and let out a ragged breath.
What the hell am I doing?
After my long shower, I pull myself together and head toward the living room to talk to Abigail. “Abby?” I call out when I reach the hallway.
“In here. Come in,” she replies from her and Calvin’s bedroom. I cringe, feeling sick to my stomach. God, I’m such a bitch.
“I’ll… just wait downstairs,” I stammer, not wanting to step into that room, especially now.
“Okay, I’ll shower quickly. Then you can show me what you’ve been working on,” she says, her voice light and carefree.
As I head downstairs, my mind is spiraling.
I know Calvin is in there, too. Are they showering together?
Is he going to touch her the way he touched me?
Fuck her the way he was just fucking me?
The jealousy, the guilt, the pain all hit me at once.
He hasn’t seen his fiancée in almost a month. I’m sure he’ll be all over her soon, and the thought makes me feel like I’m going to be sick.
I know I have no right to be jealous. Calvin never promised he’d leave her, and a part of me doesn’t want to take him away from my sister; she loves her new life, and I love her. But can I really give him up?
Well, you can’t give him up because he doesn’t belong to you.
“Blair?” Calvin’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I look up. He’s standing there, dressed in a suit and tie, and I’m reminded that he’s traveling to Wisconsin tonight. That, along with everything else swirling in my head, makes my tears fall freely.
In an instant, I’m wrapped in his arms. He holds me tightly, whispering, “Worry me.”
I shake my head, even as more tears slip down my cheeks. “I’m fine… I’m fine.” I keep repeating it, but the more I say it, the harder I cry.
“Ask me,” he says softly.
“What?” I sniff, looking up at him, confused.
“This is about your sister, right? You’re wondering if I fucked her before I came out here.” His bluntness makes me flinch, and I shake my head quickly.
“It’s none of my business. I don’t want to know,” I say, pulling away, but he doesn’t let me go far.
“You really think that low of me? That I’d have my dick in you less than ten minutes ago and then go fuck your sister?” He sounds offended.
“Well, can you blame me?” I bite my lip the second the words slip out. I know I’ve said the wrong thing. Calvin steps back, and the coldness that sweeps over me is worse than the tears.
“I’m going to let you sit with that for a couple of days. I’ll see you when I get back,” he says, his voice cold.
“Cal—”
“No, you’ve said your piece.” And with that, he’s gone, leaving me standing there, missing him already.
A few minutes later, I’m sitting on the couch, the TV on but completely ignored. All I can think about is Calvin and how I just picked a fight right before he left for two days. Why did I say that? He looked so hurt.
“Are you crying? Why are you crying?” Abigail’s voice startles me as she plops down next to me.
“No, I’m not,” I deny quickly, turning away.
“Your eyes are red. You can’t say you’re not crying.”
“It’s the movie, okay? It’s sad,” I lie, waving her off. I don’t even know what’s playing. She laughs lightly.
“Aww, you’ve always been emotional with romantic movies. You’re too cute,” she says, pinching my cheek.
“Alright, enough,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Let’s talk about your wedding. You should try on your dress. It’s not completely done, but I need to take more measurements. I left it in my room so Calvin wouldn’t see it.”