Page 6 of His for the Taking

On instinct, I reached down, trying to push it back into place. This was wrong not only because of how fast things were going and how he was going to take something from me I wasn’t willing to give but also because he was my first cousin.

And although these types of arrangements weren’t uncommon in our world, the fact I’d be sexually intimate with a family member didn’t sit well with me.

He tsked and pushed my hand away. “Keep those pretty little hands up. You won’t fucking deny me a damn thing, Nina.”

The way he said my name, how it rolled off his tongue with that thick accent, was almost hypnotic.

And then he had the skirt of my gown shoved up to my waist, my tiny, white lace panties moved to the side. I gasped as his fingers spread over my bare pussy.

“Mmm. I love a good bare, soft cunt. I won’t even have to hold you down and wax your pussy. Auntie made sure you were a good girl and did it for me.”

The pressure from his hand had me rising on my toes, the heels of my stilettos coming off the floor.

Antonio had his mouth by my ear as he whispered, “I need to feel how warm and silky my cousin’s snatch is before I marry you. I need to know what my cock will feel when I pop that cherry and make you bleed.”

I opened my mouth and whispered, “No. Stop.”

He chuckled. “You don’t tell me no, little girl. You’ll be mine in every way soon enough.”

He kept his gaze locked on mine as he dragged his fingers up and down my pussy. I wasn’t wet. My body was too scared and confused about what was happening to feel anything more than an intense need to shield myself.

I’d never even been alone in a room with a man before, let alone touched so intimately. But Antonio was right. I was his to do with as he pleased, when he pleased. By the rules of our world, I was his property. I was to never turn him down, never say no. And I’d broken that rule already.

He pulled his hand back and held it up between us. Showing no emotion, he spit on his fingers, his saliva thick as it slid down his fingers all the way to his wrist. And I knew why he’d done it, knew what he planned.

At first, his touch was light. And as the seconds ticked by, I felt my body marginally relax.

But there was this shift in his eyes when he saw that subtle change in me, in the way I wasn’t as tense, how my breathing wasn’t as rapid. It was like the predator had been waiting for his prey to lower its survival instinct.

His smile was slow as he added more pressure. And more. And more. Until he was massaging my clit and drawing unwelcome pleasure from me.

This was wrong. I didn’t want to feel these things from this man. It was too fast. I was too innocent and inexperienced in anything related to intimate touching.

“I just can’t help myself, darling cousin,” he grumbled, and I turned my head and squeezed my eyes shut.

I hated that my body was reacting to his touch. I hated myself because of it.

When I felt his fingers lightly probe my opening, I snapped my eyes open and turned my head to stare at the center of his chest. I knew I must’ve looked shocked, like a deer caught in headlights before the vehicle slammed into it.

“Look at me,” he demanded. His voice wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t loving or sweet or as if he wanted me to be at ease with him.

And when my eyes locked with his, he shoved his fingers into me.

The pain was instant. Intense. All-consuming. I opened my mouth on a silent cry, and when he pushed more of those digits into me, the sound spewed forth.

His grin was constant, his erection digging into my ribs.

“That’s it,” he purred, his mouth now right by my ear. “Scream for me. Bleed for me.”

I tried pushing him away, tried clawing at his arms. But he was so big. So strong. I was at his mercy as he invaded the most intimate, vulnerable part of me.

He pumped those thick fingers in and out of me, taking my innocence as if I were nothing but a dirty whore in the back alley of one of the clubs he owned. And only when the tears were streaming down my cheeks, only when I sagged against the wall in surrender, did he pull his mouth away from my ear and face me.

His smile was gone, and in its place was a look of dark possession that consumed me in the worst way. I winced as he removed his fingers from my body, and I immediately clamped my thighs closed.

He held up his hand showing me those blood-streaked digits, a visual that would forever be ingrained in my brain. And then he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean, never once taking his focus off me. A low purr, as if he were a rabid animal, left him as he licked his index and middle fingers, sucking me off of them like I was his last meal.

“Tonight, little girl, I’m not going to stop until I make the bed sheets red with my little cousin’s virgin blood.” And with that, he turned and left.

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