He stops for a moment, and I think it’s all over. Then, shuffling under the covers is all I can focus on, only then do I feel the tip of his cock press against the back of my thighs. It’s slick from his precum, dripping onto my pajama bottoms and the sheet underneath.
“Soren…”
“Don’t say my name like that, Princess,” he says, the warning in his voice clear. “Not unless you want me to fuck you right here, right now.”
I keep my mouth shut for a moment, only to feel him trail hisfingers over my pussy, drawing out a loud gasp from me. He’s slowly rubbing me over my clothes, and my heart starts beating furiously in my chest.
“Wait, Soren—”
“Don’t worry, Sloane,” he croaks out, his nose still buried in my hair. “I won’t fuck you tonight. But I did say I’ll use your thighs to get myself off. I have something even better in mind.”
I don’t have the time to start asking questions. Even if I did, Soren’s always been a show-don’t-tell kind of person. And show me he does — by grabbing my pajama shorts, alongside my underwear, and pushing them to the side.
His knuckles brush against my soaking pussy, and a small moan slips from me involuntarily. Soren pulls me back against him, yet again, his cock resting between my thighs.
“Fucking hell, Princess,” he groans. “You’re soaked. All for me, huh?”
“Shut up,” I hiss.
A deep, rich laugh slips him, and he slowly starts thrusting. His cock is perfectly aligned with my pussy, sliding between my lips with ease. I get wetter and wetter the longer he continues the motion, slicking and coating his cock even more. Our juices mix together, and another moan comes from the depths of my throat.
“You’re so fucking desperate for the man you hate,” he groans. His free hand wraps around my hair, grabbing a fistful and yanking it back. I scream out a little, and his lips attach to my neck, sucking and nibbling the skin.
“I hate you,” I spit out, yet my body moves on its own accord, as though it’s not mine to control. I move against him, grind like my life depends on it. “I’ll destroy you.”
“Oh, will you, now?” He murmurs against myskin, his thrusting becoming more erratic, his breathing becoming shallow. His teeth graze the shell of my ear, my entire body getting chills. “Then do it. But first, you better come on my cock, Princess.”
“No,” the stubborn side of me pops up. “I’d rather die than give you the satisfaction of being the first man to make me come.”
Soren pauses for a moment, his body tensing. His hand releases my hair, only to come and grip my jaw, turning my head to the side. His face is an inch away from my face as he slowly resumes his movements, looking me dead in the eye.
“You’re a virgin?”
If possible, my cheeks flush even more. Soren only lifts a brow in response, then leans in, his lips brushing against mine a little, causing my breath to hitch.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Princess,” he murmurs. “It’s just not what I expected.”
Were you expecting me to be a whore like your mother?
I keep the thoughts to myself, and Soren lets go of my jaw. He picks up the pace, his hand coming to my stomach, fingers splaying over it. The feeling of his hand makes me moan a little, before he finds my clit, rubbing small tight circles.
“That’s it,” he mutters. “Be a good girl and come for me, Princess. I know you want to. You can say you don’t want to, but your body is betraying you.”
“Fuck you,” I gasp, and Soren pinches my clit between his fingers.
The motion of his tip pressing against my entrance makes me come undone quicker than I’d like. A loud moan fills the room, slipping past my lips. Soren curses under his breath, then slams his hips again, until I feel his warm cum coat my pussy. He groans, the sound making something in my chest flutter.
“Fuck,” he groans, slowly pulling away. Then, he puts my underwear and shorts in place. “Now, you’ll sleep with my cum on your pretty cunt. Don’t you dare try to wash it off.”
TWELVE
With a deep sigh, I slump down on the bench, staring out into the lake. It’s chilly outside, the stormy, grey clouds above me, not a single trace of sunlight to be seen. My breathing is uneven, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve done so much physical labor — if ever.
One of the employees of the camp, a coordinator named Mike, was the one who gave me the clothes for the day. The task was to clean up all of the trash that was scattered around the camp. I didn’t manage to pick up everything, not even half, but I still have another seven hours to go.
My nose is red from the cold, and it seeps right through my uniform. The lake is as beautiful as ever, a little sandy shore next to it, with benches, small tables, and chairs all around.
My cheeks feel like ice, and even blinking is starting to become a chore. I’ve filled four bags of trash, and they’re big. It’s nauseous to even think about how poorly these kids were raised if all they did was just litter.
