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And I don’t know how I get the strength to do this but I turn my head to look into his eyes.
They look drugged and stoned and lustful and agitated all at the same time.
Letting go of the glass, I bring one hand up to his ticking jaw and say, “But it’s okay. Because I am his whore. Only his and no one else’s. Marrying someone w-won’t change that. And do you know why, Daddy? Because you’re not my daddy anymore. He is. And I’m his princess. One of three.”
And then I just let myself go.
As I watch his face, his eyes losing their agitation, becoming completely eclipsed by lust, I let myself rest my head on his shoulder and succumb to the orgasm that’s been threatening me for a while now.
I let myself come and come, drenching my wedding dress and my garter.
Probably drenching his clothes too.
I let myself shiver and writhe against him, moan and cry out at all these sensations inside of me. Sensations and emotions. Emotions that I better understand now than I ever did before.
They’re love, aren’t they?
All of these things that he makes me feel.
The good, the bad, the ugly.
Everything that I feel for him starts with an L and ends with an E.
Like always.
Since the beginning of time.
My wayward thoughts break when I feel him grow thicker inside of me, harder and bigger, alerting me that he’s going to come. And he does, I feel hot lashes of his cum and tight throbs of his dick, but only for a little bit. Because in the middle of his orgasm, he whips his cock out and aims it at the tightest hole in my body that he’s only breached with his finger yet. He gets the head inside, mixing my pleasure with pain until he’s coming inside my asshole.
Until he’s filling it with his cum.
And I understand why he’s doing it.
It’s the same reason why he leaves my throat and thrusts his fingers inside my mouth, going deep, deeper than ever before. It’s because he wants to fill me everywhere. He wants to lay claim to every hole in my body.
Before I marry someone else.
And the thought is so sad that it’s all I can do to not break down crying.
It’s all I can do not to become a puddle on the floor, or worse, tell him to take me away.
But I can’t do that.
I need to step out of this dreamland and walk into the real world. I only have a little bit of time before they come for me so when he’s done, I spin around on shaky legs. I look up at him, ready to tell him to leave and that I’ll explain everything later, when I notice his focus is on something else altogether.
Something over my shoulders and out the window.
Something that’s caused his features to harden once again. But there’s also a sense of something else lurking on his face. Something that looks very much like satisfaction and victory and triumph.
I’ve seen that look on his before.
Especially at his games or when he’d fight with my brother.
But I don’t understand why he’d look like that now.
I’m about to ask him when I hear the worst sound in the world.
The sound of my door opening and footsteps, lots of them, thumping and pounding inside the room. I’ve still not looked away from Ledger though for some reason. Maybe because I’m frozen.
I’m terrified.
I’m fucking petrified right now.
He isn’t though.
He’s calm.
Still victorious. Like he wanted this to happen. Like he wanted people to barge into the room.
“You knew,” I whisper. “You knew they’d see us. You wanted them to.”
I see it on his face. That yes, he knew and yes, he wanted.
But before he can answer me, a hand appears on his shoulder, gripping his t-shirt and spinning him around. And I know who that hand belongs to. I know who that voice belongs to too.
“Who the fuck are you? What the fuck are you doing to my daughter?”
Instead of answering him though — my father — Ledger takes his time zipping up and buttoning his pants. “I think it’s obvious what I’m doing to your daughter.”
“You —”
“And I’m the guy whose babies she’s carrying.”
“What?”
“The real question though, Daddy, is who the fuck do you think you are? And why do you think it’s okay to marry her off to some rich prick when she’s already married to me?”
That’s when I look at the room.
Until now I’ve been staring at his broad back, his straight but arrogant posture.
But now I notice that my room is filled with people: Ezra, his dad, my mother, the minister, a few other people I don’t know and have never seen before.
They’re all here.
They’re all watching this. And they’re all shell-shocked. They all look horrified.
And as disastrous as that is, them watching me get fucked, the fact that my wedding could be ruined now and thereby all my dad’s threats may come true, I can’t focus on that.
