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“Not until I tell you,” I remind her.
“Touch me?” she whispers, she’s past the point of having any pride. So desperate to come that she’d beg for it.
“You wanna come for me? Do you want to put a finger inside yourself?”
“Yes,” she breathes, her teeth sinking deep into her bottom lip. I lean forward, close enough for the tip of my nose to brush over her cheek.
“Then do it,” I whisper, “wet those fingers, and make yourself feel good for me.”
Rogue’s hips lift from her seat as she speeds up her rhythm and intensifies her pressure. My cock is solid, and my heart races with both thrill and anger combined as I watch her give herself a punishing orgasm. I lean away from her again so I can admire how beautiful she looks when she comes, my fist clenching at the wheel as I imagine how good feeling her pussy pulse would be.
She slowly brings herself down, her head falling sideways on the headrest and her eyes finding mine again. Big, bright crystals that strike so fucking hard I feel them bruising me on the inside.
“That better, Grimm?” she asks me seductively, still trying to catch her breath.
“Not at all,” I admit spitefully, turning my head away from her and starting up the engine.
There’s silence for the rest of the journey, and Grimm acting like what just happened had no effect on him has me furious.
I know I made him feel something. The way he’d marched on that stage and dragged me off it proved it.
When we get back to the cabin, he remains in the truck after I get out. Then as soon as he sees that I’m inside, he drives away. Part of me wants to run away again, but I’m exhausted, both mentally and physically. Meeting Grimm’s mom today confirmed my suspicions. There’s so much more to his story. Seeing him watch that slut at the club made me envious enough to kill a bitch. It’s both ironic and fucked up that I found it kinda comforting when he threw me over his shoulder and dragged me off the stage.
It felt like he cared. Like in his own fucked up way he was saving me from myself.
Up until now, I’ve never thought I needed rescuing.
I slip the leather dress off and take a shower, and when I’m finished I leave the bathroom exactly how Grimm likes it. I even line up the towels on the rail before I take myself to bed.
Lying in the darkness, I wonder what Grimm is doing now. Will he finish what I’d interrupted with that pretty little whore bag down at the clubhouse?
I can’t think about it, not without wanting to cause havoc. So I close my eyes to try to get some sleep, and as they start to get heavier, I feel myself drifting to a much darker place.
AGED 12
“Shhhhh.” I feel his heavy weight on top of me, and his stale beer breath lingering over my mouth. There’s no point screaming. Screaming never does any good. He’ll cover my mouth with his hand if I do, then each breath I take will have to be through my nostrils and I’ll be forced to smell everything so much more.
Derek is by far the worst of Daddy’s friends. He’s almost kind when he takes me, and so much gentler than the others. He told me once that all he wants is me to love him. But I could never do that.
His huge dirty hand brushes my freshly washed hair against the pillow, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight.
“Let them fall for me, princess,” he tells me, soothing his thumb over my eyelids. Derek gets a sick kick out of my tears. I don’t want to give him them, he doesn’t deserve the satisfaction they bring him. But I know he won’t finish until I do.
To keep them from him will only prolong MY torture.
“That’s it, angel,” he whispers when he finds his rhythm.
I’m sure he has a wife and children of his own. That’s what I don’t understand, if he already has someone to love him, why does he keep coming back to me. My tears come without effort, streaming from my eyes and running past my cheek.
“That’s right,” he praises me, his sloppy tongue sliding over my skin and lapping up my tears like they’re holy water.
While he salivates on my misery, I distract myself, thinking about how I’d like to rip that tongue right out of his mouth. There’s a steak knife in our kitchen drawer that I figure would do the job. And after I’ve taken the tongue from his mouth, I could use that to slice through his cock too. Making sure he never hurts me again.
My thoughts dry out my eyes, just as his heavy cock lands on my stomach and leaks onto my skin. He catches his breath, his body limp and vulnerable. If I had that knife, now would be the perfect time to slit his throat and end him.
Maybe one day I will.
“Good girl,” he huffs, pulling my nightdress neatly back into place. His finger runs over my cheek and he collects a stray tear with it. “One more for the collection.” He smiles at me before he licks over the collection of tiny teardrop tattoos he has on his hand.
