He enters slowly, too fucking slowly. I feel him shake with his efforts to control the pace. He roars out, the moment his cock is all the way in. "Holy shit, baby! Fuck!"
Instead of thrusting, he pants heavily and stills. He strokes my hair as he stares down at me. The intimacy is unbearable.
Still panting, he finds a slow rhythm, testing the water. He covers my neck with soft kisses and works his way up to my face. "Fuck, baby! I missed you. I missed you so damn much. You are even better than I remember. You are fucking perfect."
Milo speeds up more, thrusting and rotating his hips. I can barely catch my breath, but I refuse to make any more sounds that might make him happy. I lie completely still, with a blank stare, waiting for him to finish. I know this bothers him more than anything. While I have no control over this situation, I can at least have control over this small moment. Apathy is my ultimate form of defiance against him.
I can feel the anger at my defiance, pulsing through his body. It's quickly followed by a look of determination. He nibbles at my bottom lip. Then he drops his head to suck on my neck, twirling his tongue around a spot I like. This is tough for me. It's a sensitive spot.
But I refuse to give him another inch. This fucker is forcing himself on me. He got me to orgasm, simply because he knows my body. And he passed it off as consent. I am not going to give him any more satisfaction. Fuck him!
As my resolve grows, I can almost feel that his does too. He slows his thrusts and drops his head to lick my breasts.
My dress is still hiked up to my waist. Instead of pulling my dress off, he pulls the top down, so my outfit is bunched around my midsection. He grabs on to one of the cups of my bra and yanks it to the side to reveal my right breast.
His tongue swipes over my breasts. He licks my nipple, then takes it between his teeth, grazing them.
I don't look down at my breasts or at him. I can feel his eyes watching me, waiting for a reaction. I stare straight at the ceiling. However, my insides are frozen. I have a bad feeling about what he is up to.
There was an accident once, during our intimate times together. He was fucking me and flicking my right nipple with his tongue. He nibbled on it with his teeth, exactly when I squeezed him. The squeeze surprised him, and he thrust up, hard. His body shot forward, just when he had clamped down on my nipple with his teeth. To say it was painful is putting it mildly.
From what I understand of this psychopath, his fixation on me comes from my rejection. Women throw themselves at him. I didn't have the same interest in him. Given that I wasn't even one-tenth as beautiful as the girls he brought around, I think it irked his huge ego.
Hence, he wants me to crave him. Being the perfect narcissist that he is, he wants me to like his physical touch. So he always only did things that got me off.
After that incident, I recoiled from sex for a couple of days. I wouldn't get aroused, no matter how hard he tried. And he was not going to allow me to recoil from him. Since then, he only sucked gently or licked my nipples. He never used his teeth.
Until now. Now his teeth are on my nipple, holding me at mercy, ready to clamp down. The memory of the traumatizing pain comes back, and panic starts to flare all around me. He knows I hate this. I know he is doing it to punish me for my defiance.
I can feel the slow fucking speed up a little faster with each thrust. We are playing a game of chicken to see who will fold first. He wants me to give him an expression. He can deal with anger or lust. But he can't deal with nothingness.
I don't want to risk the possibility of a harder thrust, right as he clamps now. I know if I give him something, he will stop. I also know that if he clamps down, he risks my body recoiling the next time he touches me.
I shudder inwardly at the thought that there might be the next time. All the same, I decide to call his bluff. I stay frozen and expressionless.
Suddenly, without any provocation, he changes his mind about this stupid mind fuck of a game. He licks around my nipple and flicks it instead. He then licks his way back up, and I let go of the breath I didn't even realize I was holding.
He sucks on my neck, and this time I relax from my trepidation. I am grateful that the fear is gone. As I relax, he speeds up, pumping faster into me. My whole body jerks from the impact. His dick rubs against my sensitive clit, enough to send some aftershocks from the orgasm. Despite myself, I arch my back and moan out as another orgasm takes hold.
"That's it, baby! Come with me."
My eyelids fly open as I realize what I have done. The fake me out nipple clamping was a distraction. I was so relieved he didn't bite down, I got distracted enough to let go of my resolve. And gave him the expression he truly wanted, my submission. That dipshit.
I don't even have to look at him to know he is wearing a smirk. With nothing else to prove, he pounds harder, as he climaxes inside me.
Afterwards, he kisses my cheek, my neck, looking content as hell. He wanted my submission. I gave it to him. Yet again.
"That was amazing."
He buries his head in the hollow of my neck as I turn away my face. He holds on to me tightly and utters, "I knew you would remember. Your body always remembers that you are mine. You will always be mine."
CHAPTER 1
Nine Years Ago
August 7th, 2011
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Milo
I wipe down the kitchen counter, which is still littered with food crumbs. I should have known better when mom decided to make breakfast. She was high on life earlier today, cooking and singing. She made a massive mess in the kitchen.
Right after breakfast, she crashed from her high and retreated into her room. Reid and Mia have no idea what happened and why her door is locked again. I am not going to ruin one of the only good days they have had with her in weeks, so I decide to clean up the mess and take the runts out to see Uncle John.
It's one of our various family traditions, one outing per weekend, no matter how small. During the weekdays, Reid and Mia are in school. They don't notice mom locked away in her room for hours on end. But on weekends, they are around for far too long, so I distract them with made-up activities; as if it's completely normal for a sixteen-year-old to be in charge of his thirteen-year-old brother and eight-year-old sister.
I finish cleaning up, as Mia and Reid run downstairs. Mia almost loses her footing at the bottom. I smile and shake my head. Lifting her up I swing her around.
"Wheeee…" she squeals out. I put her down, and she falls into a fit of giggles. Reid and Mia tug at their socks and shoes, ready to leave the house. I have barely done the laces on my combat boots when Reid opens the front door, practically flying out.
I smirk. He can't wait to see Raven, his best friend. Today is the day Raven and Uncle John officially moved in next door. And we are going over to welcome them.
Though we call him uncle, we are actually not related. Uncle John is my dad's best friend. They grew up in a small southern town in Virginia. The friendship was solidified through religion. Both of their families are devout Christians and they both grew up in the church community. Throughout their lives, they tried to instill the same values in us. It didn't quite stick.