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“I’ll—I will, uh … I’ll stay. I can clean and cook,” I stammered, feeling slightly off-balance with his face so close that I could smell the scent of spice and cigarette smoke. I didn’t care for cigarettes, but on Huck, it was different.
“Can you cook?” he asked me.
I nodded, then licked my lips. My mouth felt dry, and I had to squeeze my legs together to relieve the ache between them. Huck was a bad man, and I was turned on by him. Was it the evil in his gaze that I was drawn to? Tabitha would say it was.
Huck slid a hand between my legs until they brushed the cotton fabric of my panties, and I gasped. That, I hadn’t expected. My eyes went wide, and my breathing quickened. He ran a finger over the fabric in a circular motion. Only my fingers had touched there. Having someone else do it was different. Having Huck Kingston do it was sinful, but I didn’t care.
“That’s all it took, and your panties are wet,” he said in a husky whisper, then slipped a finger under the fabric and pushed it inside of me.
I cried out from the shock and pleasure of it. That was very new. When I touched myself, I only rubbed my clit until I orgasmed. I had never stuck anything inside of me. I realized my mistake now. I should have tried this years ago.
There was no longer disgust in his eyes, I realized. They were like two blue flames as he watched me. He looked on edge, as if he might bolt at any moment. He began to press his thick finger further into me.
“Fucking hell, that’s a tight pussy,” he growled.
I whimpered as he began to pump his finger in and out of me. My mouth fell open as I took short, fast breaths. I dropped my gaze to his hand between my legs.
“Oh God,” I moaned.
That was too much. Seeing his big hand inside my panties was something that fantasies were made of. I didn’t want this to ever stop.
“Too fucking easy,” he said, jerking his hand away from me as if I had bitten him, and he stood up.
His fingers wrapped around my arm tightly before hauling me up. When I was flush against him, he grabbed my waist and spun me around to face the sofa. His hand pressed against my back, forcing me forward. I placed my hands on the back of the sofa before I face-planted on it. I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing, but he shoved the T-shirt I was wearing halfway up my back, then grabbed my panties and ripped them off my body.
There were so many things going on at once, and I was battling to figure out which one I should be feeling. Excitement, arousal, fear, or were all of them at once acceptable too?
His hand landed on my left butt cheek with a loud smack, causing me to cry out from the pain. “Spread ’em,” he barked at me.
He grabbed my butt cheeks with his hands. “Fucking hell,” he said in a hoarse whisper that I felt all the way to my clit.
The arousal was definitely winning in my swarm of emotions. No man had ever touched me like this. I was having a morning of firsts, and so far, they were all something I wanted to do again. Many times.
The heat from Huck’s breath caressed my throbbing clit. His face was between my thighs. I should probably be embarrassed, but his tongue ran along the sensitive folds, and my knees buckled. I cried out as I gripped the back of the sofa harder. The room was spinning.
“Damn, you taste sweet,” he growled.
His hands continued to squeeze my butt cheeks as he buried his tongue inside of me. This was bad. I shouldn’t just be letting this happen, yet I wasn’t sure I could stop it even if I wanted to. Nothing had ever felt this incredible.
Another slap to my bottom, and I cried out in shock, pain, or was it pleasure? I didn’t know the difference anymore. A long, thick finger slid inside of me, and I began to pant.
“That’s a tight pussy for a slut,” he said, plunging it into me. “No man’s had this cunt in a while.”
Unable to control my body, I moaned and rocked against his hand. No man had ever had my cunt. His fingers were the first ones to be inside of it. I should tell him this in case he planned on putting his penis in me. But I was afraid he’d stop, and I wanted more. The build inside of me as I drew closer to my release was stronger than anything I’d ever managed to do to myself. I wanted to know what that felt like. I was having to bite my bottom lip to keep from pleading with him to get me there. The throb between my legs was verging on painful as I began to pant.
Before I could spiral out of control, his hand was gone. There was nothing there but cold air.
“No!” My voice sounded as desperate as I felt.
I held myself like that, with my body trembling from the lack of fulfillment as Huck walked away. I watched as he turned the corner. He didn’t look back once.
When I heard the door slam at the top of the stairs, I sank down onto the floor and curled my body up into a tight ball. Slowly, I began to rock, but no tears came. They never did. Not anymore. I banged my forehead on my knees, wishing I could be anyone else.
Hating myself was a plague that I was finding out didn’t go away. The truth was, Hayes wouldn’t have married me. Even if he had lived. Because eventually, he’d have seen the evil in me too. The girl that was impossible to love. How could I expect someone to truly care for me when I hated myself?
Eight
Trinity
