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“Come on my fingers. Gush all that hate you have for me, all over them, show me how much you hate me, baby…” I order, my jaw aching as I grit my teeth and watch as she bows off the bed, arching her chest and pushing her puckered nipples into the air.
“I hate you… I hate you so…” The words cut off, and all I hear is a heady gasp.
Like the end to a symphony, she comes apart, her pussy convulses, and a shudder runs through me at the pleasure. Mine. Selfishly, I don’t wait for her to come down before I remove my fingers and unbutton my pants.
Standing to my full height, I shove my jeans down and pull my cock out. Fisting it in my hands, I start to stroke, envisioning my hand to be Willow’s tight little cunt. I want to fill her with my cock so badly, but she’s not ready, I know it.
“Let go of your legs,” I order, as my strokes grow faster. Pleasure builds in my balls, each determined stroke getting me closer and closer to the finish line. Willow stares at me innocently, a sleepy look in her eyes as she does as she’s told.
Mark her. Claim her. Something screams, and I know if I don’t, I’ll lose my fucking mind.
“I’m going to come all over you, mark your skin, claim your body. You’re mine, Willow. Mine to torment.” Stroke. “Mine to hate.” Stroke. “Mine to break.” Stroke. The pleasure becomes so blinding that I rock off my feet, and like a volcano, I erupt.
Ropes of sticky white come spurt from my cock and onto her snowy skin. Perfection. I grit my teeth, squeezing the tip of my cock, becoming mesmerized with each drop of come that lands.
Mine. The word echoes in my mind, playing on repeat. My heartbeat soars into my throat, and as the pleasure inside of me simmers, I’m left reeling.
I know I shouldn’t want her like this. I can’t want her, but I do. I want all of her. A low rising anger replaces the pleasure, and I release my cock and pull my pants back up.
“Congratulations, you’ve more than earned your invitation to the charity ball.”
Something like relief flickers in her features. “Thank you,” she whispers, and I almost feel bad for what I’m about to say next.
“However, there is a catch…”
Brows furrowing, she sits up and reaches for the sheet beside her. The action infuriates me, but I don’t say anything.
“What do you mean there is a catch? You said you would get me an invite?” Tears start to form in her obsidian green eyes, the color almost like you’re looking through water to see it.
“And I did.” I button my pants back up and shove my hands into the front of my jeans. “You can go, but you have to go with me.”
“But… my father wants to go with me, and I don’t…” The second the words leave her mouth, I find that I’m back to hating her again.
“Your father?” I spit, “You were going to bring your father?” I blink, trying to calm my anger down. I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve known that she had ulterior motives, and I guess, in a way, I did know. I asked her why she needed the invite, and she didn’t tell me. My mistake. Shaking my head, I whirl around and head for the door. I’ve been careless when it comes to her, and I’m not sure when this behavior is going to stop.
If my father knew, if anyone here suspected I was weak for her, the enemy. I don’t even want to think about the disappointment.
“Parker…” She calls out to me, but I’m too far gone. I have to get away from her. Everything about her is fucking with my head. Unlocking the door, I walk out, not even bothering to close it behind me.
When will I learn that in this game, every action has a repercussion?
11
Willow
I don’t know why, but I feel bad. I have no reason to feel this way, he has been using me. Using my body, my image for his psychotic pleasure. I try and maintain the goodness that’s left inside me. I’m doing this for Ashton, not for my father, not for Parker, or even myself, everything is for my sister. I can’t lose her. She is the only family I have left. I don’t count my dad, because there is no love between us. I can’t count that relationship as family.
The reminder of my sister makes me feel a little better as I head into the coffee shop just off-campus. Blackthorn is a quaint little town, and there are a bunch of tiny little stores all nestled together like a little village at this shopping center.
Now that I’ve got the official invite to the fundraiser, I have to go dress shopping, which sucks. I didn’t want to go, to begin with, and part of that is because I need to be dressed to my father’s specifications.
