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6
Carrigan
Idon’t know at what point I fall asleep, but when I wake up my body feels sticky with a mix of dried sweat and the results of the sex I just had with Carson Windsor. The hot, strange, painful, wonderful, world ending sex.
I’ve known for years that I wasn’t going to get to have the casual sexual relationships normal people my age have. I’ve built up this idea of how my first time would be in my head; knowing that it was unlikely I’d be in love with the first person I shared my body with. I’d assumed it would be awful, that I’d be nervous and mentally distanced from the act, that it would just be one more thing to endure to get the inheritance.
But what just happened with Carson was nothing at all like I’d imagined. I’m not a total weirdo, I’ve touched myself, explored my own body to see what feels good. I’ve given myself orgasms, or at least I thought I had, but they were nothing like the way Carson made me feel.
This boy that I don’t like, who doesn’t like me, made me orgasm so hard my entire body shook, and he didn’t just do it once, he made me come four times. Four times! I’ve never even gotten close to twice in a row on my own and he just kept making me scream over and over.
The actual sex part hurt, at least at the start, but by the end it was amazing, so unlike anything I could ever have imagined and now my body feels sore and relaxed all at the same time. Closing my eyes for a second, I bask in the feel of his chest beneath my cheek. I shouldn’t be cuddling with him, this was just about ridding me of my virginity and breaking the will, but I can’t help feeling close to him right now.
I always assumed I could make sex just something else to deal with, like every other aspect of my great-grandfather’s will, but I was wrong. Even though he didn’t kiss me, everything about what we just did was intimate and I was an idiot to think it wouldn’t be.
Five more seconds and I’ll move. I’ll get up, take a shower and wash my body clean of him, then I’ll leave. Keeping my breathing steady and even, I try not to wake him. For at least the next few moments I need to pretend that he doesn’t hate me, that he doesn’t know how terrible a person I am. I need to pretend that we had sex, that I gave him my virginity, because we care about each other and not because I literally didn’t have any one else I could ask.
Sighing wearily I move, trying not to wake him as I peel my naked body from his. Wincing slightly as the soreness between my legs, my movements are slow and careful. When I glance down at the boy in the bed I’m surprised to find his eyes open and watching me, but he doesn’t smile and he doesn’t say anything when I grab my discarded clothes from the floor and cross the room to the bathroom.
The hot water washes away the blood and dried semen from my inner thighs and I cringe at how beat up I feel considering all I did was lie on my back and let him do all the work. A blush fills my cheeks as I remember the things he said to me, the things he said he wanted to do to me. I’ve never really thought about dirty talk, I guess I never considered the guy I would end up married to would be like that, but I can’t deny how much it turned me on.
Everything Carson did turned me on. Before my sister got involved with Arlo Lexington, I’d never said more than three words to Carson Windsor. I’ve always known who he was, his family are on the list. But either my parents decided they didn’t want his family or his family weren’t interested, because my mom has never even mentioned him in terms of a potential husband.
There’s shampoo and body wash already in the shower and I use them, skimming my hands over my skin and letting my mind wander to the way he touched me. He could have just got me naked and had sex with me, it’s what I’d been expecting, but he took care of me.
“I want to own you. Until this is over I want your soul to belong to me.”His voice drifts into my head and I have to swallow past the lump in my throat.
He warned me, but I was too far gone to heed his words. He did what he said he would, he owned me. The scary thing is that I think a small part of me will always be his now, that when he took my virginity, he took a tiny part of me with it and I’m not sure I’ll ever get it back, or if I even want to.
Turning off the water I search for a towel, eventually finding a pile of clean, black, fluffy ones in a closet and wrapping one around myself. I allow myself a moment to dwell on everything that’s happened so far today and how much more will happen before the day is done. Then I dry myself off, redress in the clothes Carson and I bought this morning, minus the panties that seem to have gone missing, and then walk out of the bathroom with my head held high.
The bedroom is empty when I enter it and I freeze, expecting to find Carson still in bed, his impassive face watching me. Scanning the space my eyes fall on the tripod. The camera has gone too and fear bursts to life in my stomach. He wouldn’t take the video, would he?
No. He wouldn’t do that. He wants me to break the will for my sister, he wouldn’t take the only proof I have that I’m no longer a virgin. Opening the door, I walk into the living room and the breath I’d been holding bursts from me in a relieved huff as I spot him sitting shirtless on the couch, the video camera in his hands.
His body is unbelievable, I noticed it earlier when he took his shirt off, but there’s something about watching him like this that makes him even more attractive. He’s beautiful. Short deep auburn hair so dark I’d always thought it was brown until today when he was above me, his body joined with mine.
His jaw is covered in a light stubble a few shades lighter than his hair but it does nothing to disguise how strong it is. He doesn’t look like an eighteen-year-old boy, he looks like a man, and I have to swallow down the desire that’s sparking back to life within me.
Frozen in the doorway I notice he’s wearing grey sweatpants now, not the jeans he took off earlier, and his chest is a bare expanse of smooth, hard muscle except for a tattoo over his heart. Honestly I’m not a fan of tattoos, years of listening to my mother’s disgust at them has tempered my opinion, another thing I didn’t realize her influence has affected.
But I’ve never actually seen a tattoo on a real person before either. If I knew him better, or at all, I’d cross the room to him and ask to look at it properly, from this distance I’m not even sure what it is, all I can make out is that it’s colorful, reds and blues and oranges.
He hasn’t noticed me yet, his eyes are on the camera in his hands, his lips parted slightly as he watches. It’s only then that I realize he’s watching the tape of us. Horrified, my feet move without thought and I march toward him, snatching the camera from his hands and clutching it to my chest, fumbling to turn the video off.
“What are you doing?” I cry.
His smile is slow and languorous. “You know what I was doing Priss. Sit, we can watch it together.”
“No,” I gasp, mortified by the idea of watching a video of us having sex. “It’s bad enough that it even exists. That it even happened. I never want to watch it,” I shout, my voice becoming cold and angry, and so much like my mother’s that I internally cringe at the sound.
“Wow it didn’t take long for that sweet nervousness to wear off did it,” he drawls, leaning back on the sofa, his body language mockingly relaxed, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “For a minute I thought a good fuck had mellowed you into becoming an almost decent person, obviously I was wrong.”
Inhaling sharply I’m surprised by how much his barb hurts. But it shouldn’t surprise me. We’re nothing to each other, not friends or lovers and this was just sex. An act between two consenting adults, a means to an end. “We both know I’m not a decent person Carson, a few orgasms was never going to change that,” I barb back, hating myself, but needing the familiar mask of superiority to hide behind.
Crossing to the other side of the living room I sink down into one of the couches and look at the video camera. My hands shake as I check that the video is still there, playing it for a second to make sure it works before turning it off and placing it in my lap. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look at him. Now this is done I just need to get away from here, away from him and all these feelings that are swirling around inside of me.
Pulling my cell out, I click into the Uber app and order myself a cab, relieved when it says that the driver will be here in less than five minutes. Rising gracefully, I ignore Carson’s probing gaze as I make my way back to the bedroom.
The blood stain on the bedsheets immediately grabs my attention, I hadn’t noticed it when I came out of the bathroom earlier but now it’s all I can see. Bright red against the white sheets. My eyes widen as I fixate on it. I’m not a virgin anymore. Despite knowing that it happened, feeling it in my body, and having a video to prove it, until this moment as I stare at the evidence on the sheets, I hadn’t really processed that I had sex.
My chest tightens as panic swells inside of me and before I even realize what I’m doing I’m ripping the sheets from the bed and balling them up as small as I can get them. Grabbing my shoes and purse I hold them to my chest as I rush from the bedroom. “I’m going to find a trashcan,” I announce, as I rush past Carson and make a beeline for the door that leads onto the deck of the boat.
Dropping my shoes to the floor I shove my feet into the ridiculous pink sneakers and move, descending the slim gangway that leads down onto the marina. Trying to maintain what little dignity I have left, I rush to the huge dumpsters on the other side of the parking lot, open the lid, and throw the sheet inside before slamming it closed again.
With my eyes tightly shut, I suck in a sharp gasp. I need to leave, to get away from all the tension that’s inside that boat with Carson. My cell beeps and I glance down at the screen, almost crying with gratitude and feeling a layer of tension fall away from me when I realize it’s a text telling me my Uber driver has arrived.
Glancing back at Carson’s boat I find him stood on the deck watching me, his arms crossed over his bare chest, his expression hard and shuttered. Lifting my hand in the biggest asshole move ever, I wave at him, “Thank you for the help,” I shout, then I turn and exit the marina, climbing straight into the waiting cab without looking back.
