I shake my head so quickly that it prompts another chuckle. Oh, yes. Esme Black. Such fun. Such a fucking laughingstock.
A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to swallow, even when he plucks the condom from between my lips and pockets it for later.
Memories crowd into my head. Flashes of his contorted face screaming at me in the school yard. Pushing me. Watching as the teens who mindlessly followed him teased me, shouting names. Tripping me in the corridors, knocking books—knockingmy phone—from my hands.
And worse.
I see the mindless follower who groped me outside class, grabbing my tits through my blouse two feet away from a teacher because it was just Esme and Esme doesn’t count. Remember the shock of my tyres being slashed, another occasion where some prick keyed a mark the entire length of my car.
The fear that they’d never stop. That there were no depths they wouldn’t plumb, no lengths they wouldn’t go. Remember how the kiss of a blade against my skin became the only way to release the tension, the horror, the unending pain of always being alone.
Then Seb lifts the skirt of my dress and shoves his hand down the front of my leggings, cupping my pussy through my underwear, and all those thoughts are slapped away.
“Are you going to be my good girl?” he purrs against my cheek, breath hot against my face, setting off a depth charge of blushes. “Are you going to do exactly what I tell you?”
“Fuck off,” I snap without thinking as thick waves of desire force heat into every muscle until I’m molten.
“I’d rather fuck you.” He drags the tip of his nose over my cheek, igniting a convulsion of sparks. “So feisty. I bet you’ll scream when I make you come.”
His fingers easily force their way inside my panties, rubbing against the outside of my slit, already so dripping wet with anticipation he slides inside without even needing to apply pressure.
I swallow hard, clenching my teeth. It’s just a physical reaction. It means nothing.
“Open wide,” he coos and then his opposite hand rubs against my mouth. “Let me in.”
On instinct, my lips part and he plunges three fingers deep inside, making me gag. Colour rushes into my cheeks and my throat works furiously to stop from retching.
“Jesus. If you do that with my tiny little fingers you’re going to choke when I face fuck you with my cock.”
I want to snap back with an insult, something size-related. The words form in my head, then dissipate. I can’t say them around his fingers, his fingers that are now sliding in and out of my mouth, rough against my tongue, lubricated with so much saliva that their passage becomes smoother, easier.
“That’s better,” he says, dropping his voice back down to a whispery growl. “Not so mouthy now, are you?”
Even if I could speak now, I wouldn’t.
I tilt my neck, the back of my head resting against his shoulder, twisting to the point of pain while he slides both sets of fingers in and out of me, in and out, until my chin is covered in drool and my cunt leaks its juices all over his hand.
“You like that, don’t you?” he asks as he thrusts a second finger inside my entrance, curling it in a tease against my walls. With his other hand, he steadies his thumb against my chin and forces me to nod.
“Yeah. Of course, you like that. You look so sweet and innocent but deep down you’re just nasty, aren’t you? A nasty girl with her mind crammed full of filth and her cunt jammed full of my fingers.”
An orgasm tears through me, making my knees bump against the wall as I temporarily lose control.
Just a reaction. Just a normal physical reaction.
The same physical reaction Joseph couldn’t draw from me in six months together.
A sob comes out of my throat as Seb withdraws his fingers from my mouth. His other hand continues to thrust in and out, in and out, digits slowing their rhythm until they gently bring the shuddering spasms to an end.
“Someone hasn’t been getting their needs met,” he teases, stroking the hairs back from my face, glowing with a sheen of sweat. “Couldn’t you find a nice preppy boy to fuck you the way you want? Hm?”
Before I can answer, he palms my forehead, tipping my head back as he withdraws from inside me, then immediately jams his sodden fingers into my mouth, a knee between my thighs forcing me harder against the wall.
“That’s my girl.” His forehead presses against my cheekbone so hard it would make my eyes water if the hand shoved halfway down my throat hadn’t already set them streaming. “Suck them all clean and I’ll let you have a new present. Would you like that?”
I try to shake my head, but the movement just makes him tighten his grip until it feels like I’m jammed in machinery. I swallow spit the wrong way and cough around his hand, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t withdraw. I’m choking, struggling to draw air, and he laughs at me, his hard cock shoved against my arse, straining so hard that I’m worried it’ll tear straight through the thin fabric of my leggings, one tilt of his hips forcing it deep inside.
Spots dance in front of my eyes and the piercing ring of tinnitus wipes out half my hearing. I’m dying. I can’t breathe. My legs are jelly.
