Ann

 

 

 

Because I like you.

What the hell was that? I sound like a fucking teenager!

I hurried out of his office as quickly as possible after my embarrassing statement, fleeing to my room. I've never been in his office before, and never thought it would be under circumstances like these. Me, crying, because he's so damn stubborn and unwilling to be frank about the most obvious thing.

He likes me more than he wants to admit. More than he thought he would.

He cares for me.

And that was never part of the plan.

He needs to chill the fuck out and just take things as they are, but instead he's acting as if this is the most horrible thing that could've happened to him.

As if I was a threat or something.

I close the door behind me, tears of anger threatening to join my solitude as soon as I'm by myself behind closed doors. Safe. Away from him.

"Stop it," I hiss at myself. I've never been one to weep easily. In fact, I can't even remember the last time I cried.

And I don't know why it's happening now. Is it anger? Disappointment? Or is it the memory? A connection drawn by my silly mind, a connection to something that happened so long ago, something that no longer holds power over me. An agonizing memory that I’ve successfully locked away for years.

The pain. The humiliation. The fear.

It's all behind me. It has to be.

Jared is not like him. Not at all. It was unfair of me to even consider it for a second. But I couldn't help it. His outburst, as short and comparatively mild as it may have been, frightened me, because I didn't know what to make of it. I had no idea where it came from, and I didn't see it coming either. To me, it was nothing but a completely random outrage about nothing. A sign of a man who has no control over his temper - and, possibly, his physical strength.

Just like him.

I had to fear my father's hand constantly. It was never about me doing anything wrong. It was always about that invisible switch that could be flipped at any time. Violent outbursts whenever something managed to really hit him. Anything. Anytime.

He was never smart enough to spare my face, so it was hard to hide whenever there was another day when I ran into his fist.

"No, no, stop it!" I warn myself. "For fuck's sake, Ann, shut up."

I've always talked to myself this way. I've always handled my own little horrors in this manner, and it has always worked. Until now.

I smile. Bright and with my whole face, not just my eyes. I will fucking smile until it becomes real and I'm back to being the person I like to be. A person I can admire, a person who gets shit done.

A person who's so much stronger than her pathetic excuse of a father ever was.

I take a deep breath and slip out of my heels and what little items of clothing I'm still wearing. I really need that shower, not to get clean, but to be comfortable. The cleansing is more of a spiritual kind, a warm and soapy embrace that leaves me fresh and renewed.

I sigh with relish as the warm water pours over me. People always say that money doesn't make you happy, but I've always disagreed. Everything is easier when you have money. It may be Jared's wealth that I'm profiting from right now, but soon enough I will receive my payment, and then I'm going to get a shower like this one, a gigantic rain shower that has room for three people in a bathroom like this, maybe even in penthouse similar to this. Of course, it's going to be smaller. I'm going to be paid generously, but it will in no way come even close to the wealth he has established so far in his life time. But it will be my own money. My well-deserved money for... being with him.

Oh, no, don't open that door, Ann.

I'm so deep in thoughts that I don't hear the door, nor do I notice a person entering the room. It's not until he opens the door to the way too big shower cabin that I finally realize his presence. He's naked, a sight that is still rare to me. I watch the water pearl on his rock-hard muscles when he closes in on me, lifting my face up to his and sealing my lips with a kiss. The hot, watery embrace is overpowered by his proximity, and it feels as if my entire body sighs in relief when I feel his hands on my body, traveling along the sides of my torso until he reaches my hips.

I can feel the tip of his hard cock pushing against my belly, and I reach for it. He moans into our kiss when I close my hand around it, holding him in a grip so tight that it may almost hurt him.

We break our kiss and our eyes meet in the midst of the heavy, warm stream of water that keeps pouring over us. He doesn't say a word, and right now, I don't need him to. I know what he's saying without the words ever leaving his lips.

He's not going to hurt me. Ever.

I smile at him.

"You have nothing to worry about with me," I say, hoping that my words are not swallowed by the water stream. "Trust me. I got this. We got this."

He huffs. A crooked smile graces his face as he shakes his head.

"It's never as simple as that, Button."

It satisfies me to make him groan with another squeeze around his engorged cock that is fisted in my hand. I feel powerful and oddly loved, knowing that he wouldn't let just anyone handle him this way.

However, he makes sure that his next move puts me back into my place by pinching both my nipples so hard that I yelp out in joyous agony. The stinging pain only remains for a second, but he continues to hold my tortured buds between his fingers, and even without him applying any pressure to hurt me, the agitating throbbing is still there, still fueling my bliss.

Another pinch and another expression of happy torment, and he turns me around, cupping my tits with one hand while he uses the other to guide himself between my legs. I groan when he stretches me with his girth as he shoves his thick cock inside me, slowly, unyielding.

He grabs my tits from behind and begins fucking me with desperate need, our bodies slamming against each other  with loud splashing sounds as he rams his length inside of me. Soon, he pulls me closer, his grip around me tightening so much that he almost lifts my feet off the ground, and I have to hold on to the warm tiles to keep my balance. His arms wrap around me, his buff chest pressed firmly against my back while he has his way with me.

"This is where you belong," he hisses next to my ear. "Wrapped around my cock. Mine. Always. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir!"

My words are more of a hoarse sigh than an actual phrase, released into the steamy shower with urgency and laced with need for him.

He pulls me closer, holding me in a tight grip while his hand wanders down to my core. His brute thrusts slow down when he begins massaging my clit. I throw my head back, warm water pouring down my face while he brings me closer to release in gradual waves, sending sparks of pleasure raging through my center with every deep thrust. I groan when he clasps my clit between two fingers, now pinching instead of massaging. He holds on to my throbbing pearl, holding it in a painfully tight grasp as his cock continues stretching me. He keeps himself buried inside of me, and begins to move his hips in slow circles, his girth stirring my insides.

My climax approaches so subtly that I don't fathom its intensity until it feels as if I'm being ripped apart. I can feel him pulsating inside of me, coating my channel with his cum, and I clench around him in quiet but violent tremors.

We don't move for ages, instead remaining in our hot and wet embrace, cocooned as the shower rains on both of us, washing away the pain of the evening’s preceding events.