Chapter Twenty-Three — Maya

“Oliver, stop. This is so wrong.” The despair in my voice was palpable. I was torn in two between my need for this man and what I thought was right. Or let me rephrase: what I knew was wrong.

As far as I knew, Oliver King had his shit together and a shiny future ahead of him in the IT industry. Several years ago I’d learned that he was, in fact, a genius sought after by major corporations. Yet he was far from being nerdy; my stepbrother could pass for a male model any day. He had the face and the body, not to mention the cocky attitude. By comparison, I was a fucking mess. My very identity hung by a thread.

“I've wanted you for all this time. Nothing is going to stop me any longer.”  He tilted his chin up slightly as if he was waiting for me to challenge him. “You owe me your life. I'm simply taking what is rightfully mine. There is nothing wrong with that.”

Buttons scattered over the bathroom tile as he ripped the front of my shirt open, exposing my swollen breasts. He gripped a fist full of my hair and pushed my face forward, closer to the mirror. “Look at your face, little bee. So fucking beautiful. I don’t think you have any idea just how gorgeous you are.” My gaze shifted to my face. “It's mine. Those eyes that punish me, those lips that taunt me. Mine.”

All I saw when I looked into the eyes reflecting back at me was my own arousal. Pupils dilated, eyelids heavy with lust. My lips full and dewy. Sweat breaking out over my skin from desire. I bit into my bottom lip, desperate to stop it from quivering.

The back of his hand caressed my skin—down my jawline, across my throat, lingering where my breasts were spilling over the cups of my bra. Mesmerized I watched in the mirror as his fingers stroked over the fabric, his thumb circling my nipple until it was on fire.

“Mine. These fucking tits are mine. Yet you let other boys touch them, suck them. I could kill you for that alone, little slut.” He pinched the nipple between his fingers, twisting until I cried out. Oh God!

Both hands slid down my ribs to my hips, his thumbs pushing into the small of my back, pressing into my skin. “Undo the zipper,” he commanded. Though his voice sounded calm and even, there was a definite undertone of power.

With shaky hands, I pulled the zipper down. The skirt fell away from my hips, dropping to the floor. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his calloused hands skimming over my hips, pushing my panties down, exposing my pale skin inch by inch. He bent down and removed the skirt and panties, sniffing my skin as he slowly straightened up again. “You smell so fucking good. I just want to eat you.”

My thighs clenched together. God, I was sure my pussy was dripping. Every word from his filthy mouth was making me wetter and wetter. His hand caressed over my pussy. “So soft. So smooth. Just the way I love it. Mine. My pussy.”

He pulled my head back, gripping my hair hard until my eyes watered from the pain. His lips were on my ear, hot, panting, delicious. “No other man will touch you again. You are mine and only mine. If you want to be a slut, you can be my slut. Are we clear on that?”

His half crazed gaze met mine in the mirror as he waited for my answer. My throat burned and my chest heaved with pent-up emotion. I swallowed hard.

“Say it. Say you're mine.” Why was it so damn important to him? So he could use me and throw me away when he was done? Was that his ultimate plan of revenge?

I closed my eyes. I couldn’t say it. I wasn’t any man’s slut—yet I wanted to be his. My head screamed that this was wrong. A bad mistake. Yet I craved this, couldn’t wait to find out what he’d do next.

“Little bee, I’m waiting for you to say it.” His voice had an agitated edge to it.

I shook my head. “N . . . no.”

“Oh baby, that is not the word I want to hear.” His mouth turned upside down as he pursed his lips. My heartbeat sped up, thumping in my chest.

His foot kicked my legs apart as he pinned me to his body, one hand on my pussy, his palm pressing down possessively, while his other hand encased my throat, controlling exactly how much air I could suck into my lungs. I watched—wide eyed, my head spinning from lack of oxygen—as his nimble fingers spread my pussy open, searching for my core.

I wanted to fight, rib him with my elbow, and scream for him to let me go. His grip was too tight. I gasped for air, my arms flailing by my sides.

“Be still, little bee. Fighting makes it worse. Just relax.” His voice was soothing, as if he were calming a child. He was right, the more I fought, the stronger his hold on me had become, and the more it turned me on. I couldn’t understand what was happening to me, why I both hated and loved what he was doing to me, his possession so overwhelming and all consuming that I had to give in and succumb.

I softened against him and immediately the hold around my windpipe loosened. I sucked air into my lungs, greedy for more, feeling it burn as it rushed into my body.

“Clever girl. The moment you submit to me is the moment I give you more freedom. Surrender, Maya; give yourself to me.”

A wicked grin spread over his face as his thumb found my hard nub.

“Just as I thought. You’re dripping wet.” Two fingers found their way inside as his thumb kept circling my clit. I ground my ass against his erection, desperate for more.

“Ahhh, sweet surrender. You please me, little bee.”

An orgasm was building, heightening every sense in my body. I wanted this so badly in spite of how hard I was trying to resist. Conflict tore at my mind and my body until I finally relaxed against Oliver’s hard torso, willing to yield to him, careful to keep my eyes wide open so that I could absorb everything. Once I’d accepted that this was happening, that I wanted it to happen, I didn’t want to miss a second of this torturous pleasure.

He pulled his fingers out and lifted them to his nose, sniffing my scent like a primal animal. “Fuck, you’re so ready for me, aren’t you, little bee? You’ve wanted this for a long time.”

I bit down on my lip—hard enough to taste blood—to stop the words from tumbling from my lips. I’d never admit anything to him. Never.

He spun me around and lifted me off the floor, placing me on the counter in front of him. Pushing my knees apart, he smiled. His eyes gleamed when he took in the sight of my sex, setting my body on fire. Warmth spread to my cheeks and I tried to look away, but I couldn’t. A low, soft rumble erupted from his chest and a thousand butterflies were set free inside my stomach.

Oliver chuckled softly, fully aware of the effect he had on me as he knelt down and gripped my thighs before licking over my pussy with one long stroke.

“Oh God,” I whimpered. My legs trembled and I twisted my fingers tightly into his hair to stop myself from screaming. 

“I will make you scream, little bee,” he said. I was going fucking insane, my pussy throbbing. I pulled his face closer, and at the same time spread my legs wider, pushing myself forward into his mouth, wanting him to devour me.

“Fuck,” I screamed as he fucked me with his tongue. I couldn’t take much more. Spiraling out of control, my orgasm ripped through my body. I’d never felt anything like it. Every part of my body and soul felt alive—as if currents of electricity had been pumped into me.

“Oliver, oh God,” I panted as he removed his face, covered in my juice, and came in for a kiss. His mouth devoured mine. All I could taste was myself on him. It was sexy as fuck.

When exactly he’d freed his cock, I had no idea. “I already checked your drawers. I know you’ve been on the pill for a while.”

He’d sniffed around my room? Sneaky bastard.

Before I could admonish or stop him, he’d pushed inside, bare. He groaned loudly in my ear as he inched his cock into me. “So fucking tight, my little slut.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling every inch of his cock sliding into me; I gasped as he pushed all the way in.

“What the fuck?” he cried out in my ear, pulling out. We both stared at the blood on his cock. “You’re . . . you’re a virgin?” His voice was hoarse and his eyes were nearly bugging out of his head.

Biting my lip to hold back my tears, I nodded.

“Sweet Jesus, why didn’t you tell me?” he roared. “I just assumed . . . all the boys that always flock around you like a bitch in heat . . . fuck. Fuck. Are you okay?”

The concern on his face was adorable. He looked as if someone had just slapped him hard. “I didn’t know, little bee. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Don’t stop now. I want this. If anyone was going to have my virginity, I—m” I stopped talking and pulled him closer. “Please just finish. Just do it.”

His eyes were on fire. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m your slut, remember? Fuck me, Oliver. Please.”

“Fuck, little bee, you are fucking killing me here. You have no idea.”

He lifted me off the counter and carried me to his bedroom as if I would break. Laying me gently on the bed, he crawled over me, his cock rock hard.

Quivering, I spread my legs and guided him to my entrance. He leaned forward and kissed me softly while he inched his cock into me slowly. Oh so very, very slowly, taking so much care not to hurt me, I thought I’d burst.

“Fuck me already,” I whined, desperate for the friction of his hardness inside me.

Tears spilt down my cheeks. For the first time in my entire life I felt as if I really and truly belonged to someone.

“Don’t cry, Maya. Please.”

“It’s happy tears. Girls do tears when they are sad and happy.”

“Well let me make you really happy then,” he said as he moved inside me, increasing the rhythm and speed.

I belonged to Oliver. I would be whatever he wanted.

There was nothing I wanted more than to finally be his.

Even if that meant I was his slut. His whore. It didn’t matter what he called me as long as he gave me what I needed. Him.