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“Carson,” she says shakily.
“Do you trust me, Carrigan?”
A breathy moan falls from her parted lips and she nods, “Yes.”
Sliding my thumb down to her soaked sex, I slide it into her alongside my fingers, coating my skin in her cream before trailing it back up to her ass and pressing it against her tight hole. She tenses on instinct, but I just keep the pressure against the ring of muscles as I fuck her pussy with my fingers. When she relaxes, my thumb slips into her ass and I still, waiting for her reaction.
“It burns,” she whines, trying for the first time ever to move away from my touch.
“Only for a second. Can you take it? Can you take my thumb in your ass while I make you come with my fingers?” I purr against her ear, my voice laced with want.
She doesn’t speak and I still. If she tells me to stop I will, she’s so riddled with hang ups about sex and her expectations about it, that I have no idea if I’m pushing any of her invisible buttons.
“Don’t stop,” she whispers after a long second.
“Ask me,” I taunt, my controlling nature surging to the surface and demanding compliance.
“Please don’t stop.”
“What do you want me to do, Priss? I want to hear the words.”
She pauses and I can almost hear her swallowing before she whispers. “I want you to put your thumb in my ass, while you make me come with your fingers.”
Curling my fingers, I rub at that spot inside of her that makes her breath gush out of her in a rush, then I slowly push my thumb all the way inside of her. “Such a good girl, Priss, the next time I fuck you, I’m gonna bend you over and take your pussy while my thumb is fucking your ass and you’re gonna love it, you’re gonna beg for me to fuck you harder.”
Mewling cries fall from her lips as she starts to move against my fingers, riding my hand until she’s gasping and shaking, and when her orgasm finally hits, she pushes back against me and calls out my name.
7
Carrigan
Staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror I lean in close and try to see the difference in me. I feel different, and that should be reflected in the way I look, right?
Being here with Carson is odd. This isn’t my home, it isn’t his home either, it’s a boat. I’ve never seen his actual house. He won’t have sex with me, because he says he wants for me to understand that this thing that’s happening between us is about more than just sex, but if it was, then surely he’d take me to his home, not just keep me holed up on this boat, that he’s probably fucked hundreds of girls on.
Okay, maybe not hundreds, but he definitely wasn’t a virgin before I begged him to take my virginity. I like Carson. He sees how messed up I am, how evil, but he almost seems to overlook it, or maybe he just sees something beneath how bad I am.
He sees when I’m struggling and then he helps me. Tears well in my eyes but I blink them away. He helps me. Sometimes it’s by calling me on my shit, other times it’s by taking over and telling me what to do. He helps me and I don’t understand why.
I like him. He’s beautiful, his body is perfect and when he’s not being a dick, he’s nice. A few weeks ago, I thought he was my sister’s, now I think he’s at least a little bit mine.
Focusing my attention back to the mirror I tilt my head to the side and try to see what he sees, but all I see is my sister’s face and my eyes.
Today we start our attempt at revenge on my parents. The others decided that we need to present a united front, to tell the world that my sister and I are a package deal, that whatever rift there might have been between us has been healed. But I don’t know if we’re acting or if we’re actually okay. The idea that she could forgive me for everything I’ve done to her seems bizarre, no matter how many times she says she doesn’t hate me.
The thought that this is all some elaborate plot, that they all hate me, that Tallulah hates me, that Carson is just pretending, that none of this is real, tortures me. I don’t deserve forgiveness. No man would ever want just me without the inheritance. This is all just them enacting their revenge on me.
The idea circles around my mind on a loop, playing over and over so loudly that it’s even starting to drown out the sound of Mom’s voice. Closing my eyes I strive for silence, but all I manage to do is turn down the volume on my doubts and worries. Opening my eyes again, I glance at myself in the mirror again, checking my makeup and hair before I turn away from myself and take a step toward the door.
Before I can help myself, I turn and take one last look at myself over my shoulder and spot the glimmer of hope that I’m clinging to like a life raft. Everything that’s happening could all just be pretend, but I hope it’s not. I hope my sister doesn’t hate me enough to plan all this. I hope that it’s possible for Carson to want to be with me, even though I’m worthless. I hope that they all really do want to help me get revenge on my parents.
Hope. It’s fickle and fleeting, but I cling to it, hold on to it so tightly, begging it to be real, hoping that maybe I’m not beyond redemption, that everything that’s happening is real, that he’s mine and I’m his.
Stepping out into the bedroom I find Carson fully dressed in his school uniform and lounging across the bed, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he watches me.
“Did I tell you how much I like you in that skirt?” he asks me with a salacious smirk.
A smile forms on my lips without thought and I feel a blush fill my cheeks.
