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She pushed me back into the water before climbing on top of me. It took all but a second for me to find her entrance as I held on to her waist. She gripped my shoulders, easing herself down on my cock. Closing my eyes, I felt her walls squeeze around me. Her claw-like nails dug into my shoulder.
Reaching up, I gripped her chin, pulling her face closer to mine. Before her lips met mine, she pulled back, her hand coming across my face.
SLAP.
My cheek stung and I could feel the imprint of her hand on my face. At the same time she lifted herself off me and back down, the pain and the pleasure setting my body on fire. I stretched my jaw before looking to her again.
SLAP.
Exhaling through my nose, I looked back once more.
SLAP.
After he third slap I flipped us both, pinning her against the tub. Holding both her wrists above her head with one hand, the other gripping tightly on to her thigh, I slammed myself deep inside her again.
“Oh…harder…” she gasped and I couldn’t hold myself back. I’d done too much of that already. “Ethan…harder…yes!”
She cried as she came and all I could do was grunt like a fucking caveman as I fucked her beautiful, tight, wet pussy. Each time burying myself deeper and deeper in her before I came.
“Fu—” I couldn’t get the word out before her mouth was on mine, her tongue in my mouth, her breasts pressed against my chest.
I grabbed on to her ass I walked us out of the tub and she moaned into my mouth as I took her across the bedroom, laying her on the bed.
“You do know I’m going to pay you back for those slaps,” I informed her when we broke apart.
“I like pain with my pleasure. Don’t you?”
My father used tell me that he and my mother were soulmates, slaves to each other’s best and worst selves, that he couldn’t fight my mother most times because he didn’t have the strength or the will to do so. She owned him completely and he just had to live with that. Back then, I thought he was just being sappy as always. Now I think understood him a lot better than I wanted to.
I glanced down at my arm watching the hair stand up as my skin contracted and I got goosebumps.
Shit.
Chapter 7
“Seduce my mind and you can have my body,
Find my soul and I’m yours forever.”
* * *
~Unknown
CALLIOPE - AGE 21
Cartagena, Colombia
Wednesday, July 3rd
I am different from normal people.
I don’t know when I realized it, but I was young. I was around four when I started to notice my mom hated me. She even went as far as to tell me I was cursed because I didn’t do things the way I was supposed to, or the way my sisters did. She was always telling me to smile when I wasn’t. Or to stop laughing when I did. For some reason I did those things at the wrong time. When people were scared, when they got hurt, or died, I laughed. I thought it was funny. It was kind of like watching a person slip on a banana peel…didn’t they see it? Why did they keep walking towards it?
They were silly to me. But my laughing scared my mom. Especially that one time I laughed at her uncle’s funeral. She told me stop…no, she took me bathroom and begged me not to. But when I saw him lying in the casket, all white and dead, and all the flowers, I laughed because it seemed silly that he was all dressed up. Where was he going? In the dirt. And it was also funny that nobody except family, which was barely ten people, was there.
I remembered thinking, man, he really didn’t do anything with his life. He was not important enough to remember. He lived all those years, and nobody cared about him. Not even my mom. She complained about having to go and called him a deadbeat. Then she pretended to cry at the funeral. So why did I get in trouble? At the time I didn’t understand. I just thought I was different. My dad told me it was okay to be different. But one day, I heard them talking about taking me to see a doctor, either a therapist or psychologist. I wasn’t sure what those were, but I didn’t want to see them.
My mom was sure I needed to go. So I went to my dad and begged. I didn’t know how to make myself cry yet, so I just begged. I tried to act normal and he said I was different than Avena and Rosie, I wasn’t meant to like the same things as them, but that was good thing. It was my strength. He was right…but not completely. I did like a lot of things my sisters liked, I just meant what I said when I said that I was going to get it all.
