“Good,” my father whispered. “Take out your frustrations on her. Use her to learn to control yourself.”
“Tell me you’re enjoying this. Tell me you’re enjoying me,” I slurred into her ears, holding her face close to mine.
She cringed at the words, moving her face away.
My fingers moved to squish her cheeks between them.
She didn’t reply. Her mouth was silent aside from the groans of discomfort her lips failed to trap. She wasn’t enjoying me. Her rigid body made it obvious, and it made me fucking angrier.
I thrust harder and faster, burning us with unprotected friction. Her tears rushed over my hand, her dry tongue trying to force words out, but nothing from her mouth was understandable.
“Put your hand between her legs, feel for the nub and rub.” My father’s voice was hazy. His fingers, no longer shoved into the beanbag, had been replaced by an object I didn’t care to look at. The hand not holding his cell phone, now rested on the tenting of his jeans. The top button, undone, revealed a stomach that almost put me off.
I pulled my gaze away from him and the curly hairs that covered his spotty stomach, and I allowed my hand to lower from Jolie’s face.
I stopped at her tits, feeling her hard nipples beneath her soft satin pajama top. My fingers kneaded, focusing a second longer on her left side. Her soft flesh didn’t fill my hand—so small, and yet, still fucking fun to play with.
“Tell me you’re enjoying it.” I gave her one last chance.
And she threw it in my fucking face.
“Fuck you!” she spat, delivering venom to my cheek as her saliva dropped from my eyelashes, protecting my eyes from her poisonous hate. Somehow, her DNA burned more violently than my father’s phlegm.
“Fine.” I clutched her hair, using it as a vice. “Have it your fucking way.”
I drove into her, delivering the same level of hate. My thrusts came hard and fast and too fucking deep for her to feel anything but pain. But who the fuck cared? I didn’t. Now, through her own choice, she was no more to me than meat wrapped around my cock. Something to use to make myself feel good. And, physically, for me, it did feel fucking good.
My hand squeezed her tit hard, and I stole the fucking moan I craved to hear. The one she didn’t want to give.
My fingers traversed her stomach, feeling my way around in search of this little nub as I wondered if that’s what my shard had a little fun with earlier.
It didn’t take me long to find.
I rubbed my fingers back and forth, brushing my cock where we joined as I moved in and out of her.
The nub was sensitive, possibly pained from my previous nudging, but my touch ignited something her body refused to feel.
She backed up into me, trying to remove my fingers from her skin, but by doing so, she was giving my cock deeper access to her body.
She cried more fucking tears as I took advantage of her offering, and in thanks, I removed my fingers myself. But I didn’t offer any additional sympathy as I gripped her hips to drive into her even deeper.
She twirled her hair in her fingers, mesmerizing me as she searched for comfort through the feel.
Carpet burns left red patches of evidence on her knees.
And after a few seconds of being balls deep inside her, my fingers shifted position. Back to her cunt. Back to the nub. Ipinched her this time, adding a little pressure.
A delicate moan evacuated her parted lips. Her teeth clamped down on their fullness as shame flushed her cheeks.
I’d have laughed at her misery if I wasn’t lost in a place of arousal.
Her fingers clutched at the carpet, round nails scraping through the dust around the planted threads. More evidence that would be thrown in her face when no police came knocking to hear her story.
“You know, he thinks about you when he fucks his hand. . . he calls your name. Have you heard him?” She had no fucking clue who I was talking about. Apparently, it wasn’t as obvious as I thought, despite her having read our diary and all its intimate secrets. Her round eyes moved to the bloated creep on the beanbag, and proved that.
I didn’t correct her.
I was done talking, no longer able to speak without slurring.
