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“You’re in charge, Hawthorn,” she echoes.
“Perfect,” I purr, reaching down and palming my hard cock. I’m more than aware that I have some control-related issues, but they only usually affect me because I refuse to force my idiosyncrasies onto other people. I’m more than happy to let the girls from school think they’re the ones calling the shots. I let them bounce on my dick and think they’re in charge, and I’m okay with that.
But it seems like Princess might be the exception, because touching her while even allowing her the semblance of being in charge feels completely wrong. I could try to pretend, like I do with most of the women I fuck, but there’s no way I could stop myself from taking over with her.
There’s something about the way Penelope looks at me, like I’m beneath her notice but her savior all at the same time, that makes the proclivities I usually fight to suppress surge to life. I’ve never once wanted to take care of and spank the shit out of anyone all at the same time, but that’s how I feel every moment that I’m around this infuriating woman.
Most teenage girls are fairly simple. They either want cock, money, or popularity. Penelope doesn’t really want any of those. She needs my cock to help break the will, and she’s admitted she’s attracted to me, but if we weren’t being thrown together by circumstance, I’m not sure she’d ever have deigned to talk to me, let alone beg me to fuck her.
She doesn’t need money. She has plenty in her trust fund and even more within touching distance if she was prepared to truly do whatever it takes to get it. And she’s never really sought popularity, either. Her parents have succeeded in making her infamous. Everyone knows who she is, they know what she’d be worth, and they know she’s happy to surround herself with people who all want something from her.
Penelope is nothing like the women I normally choose to fuck around with, and maybe that’s why I’m allowing myself to play by a whole new set of rules when it comes to her. Instead of being light-hearted and fun, I can be as dark and controlling as I want. I can demand and compel. I can order her and guide her, and she’ll do anything I say because she needs me to take control, almost as much as I do.
Just like I taught her, her gaze stays fixed on me as she pulls her lower lip between her teeth and nibbles on it absentmindedly. A pang of jealousy starts to burn in my gut. I’m jealous because I wish it was me biting her and nibbling on her soft flesh while she lays out like a gift and just takes it, because that’s what I told her to do. I already know that before I even lay a hand on her, that Penelope—my perfect little Princess—will do everything I ask her to, because I think she needs that control too. She’s strong enough to accept her weaknesses, and soon that weakness will be me.
Suddenly, I don’t care that I’m going to fuck her to save her sister. I don’t care that this isn’t about us wanting each other. I don’t give a fuck that all this is for the greater good and breaking her great-grandfather’s will. I don’t care about any of that, because right now all I care about is that soon I’m going to have her at my mercy, I’m going to own her until I’ve stolen her virginity. She’s going to be mine until I say I’m done, and I can’t fucking wait.
Without saying anything more, I step further into the room, dropping the bag I’m carrying onto the bed. Reaching in, I pull out the tripod I bought and slide it out of the box, unclipping the legs and extending them until they reach the floor.
“Did you get everything?” she asks, her eyes darting from me, to the tripod, to the bag, her fingers nervously twisting together in her lap.
“According to the clerk in the store, the video camera comes partially charged and with a few hours of internal memory built in, so we can record straight to it, and then you can transfer the footage onto a memory stick or a cloud, or just keep the camera, whatever you need,” I inform her, confidently unpacking the camera and attaching it to the tripod while she silently watches me.
“Okay.” Her voice shakes as she speaks, and I stop what I’m doing and turn to look at her.
“We don’t have to do this. Gulliver already has his lawyers going over the will with a fine-tooth comb. If there’s a loophole, they’ll find it. This isn’t the only way,” I assure her, even though my excited dick is screaming at me to keep my mouth shut. I want to touch her. I want to own her, at least for a little while, but I won’t push her if she’s changed her mind.
“No, I have to do this. A lawyer might eventually find a loophole, but what happens to me in the meantime? My parents have lost their minds, they’re out of control, and if they realize I’m trying to break the will, they’ll just spiral even faster. They gave me to Geoffrey and promised him we could get married in the next few months, before I even graduate high school. They told him he needed to get me pregnant as soon as possible. They want me to have that terrible man’s baby,” she cries, the horror and disgust so clear on her face that I start to reach out to comfort her, only stopping myself when I remember that Penelope and I aren’t friends and it’s doubtful she’d want my reassurance or support. “This is the only way, Hawthorn.”
Swallowing thickly, I sigh, then nod, leaving the camera to lower myself to the edge of the bed. Crooking my finger, I gesture for her to come to me. When she doesn’t immediately comply, I huff out a breath. “Come here,” I order.
Elegantly sliding across the comforter, she moves until she’s kneeling on the bed beside me.
“Sit in my lap,” I demand.
Her movements are slow and filled with insecurities, but she does as I ask, crawling onto my lap and resting her butt on my thighs, her back ramrod straight, her entire body stiff and taut.
“How old were you when your great-grandfather died?”
“Fourteen,” she answers.
“I don’t remember you before then. Who were your friends? Did you have a boyfriend?”
She shakes her head. “Izabella and I didn’t really know anyone when we started at GAA. We’d been homeschooled until then, and we didn’t really have a chance to get to know anyone before…well, before the will changed everything.”
“What about since? I know you’re a flirt, has a guy ever touched you, Princess?” I ask, lowering my voice until it’s a seductive purr.
“No,” she says breathily.
Lifting my hand, I run the side of my finger along her jaw. “Have you ever touched anyone? Ever kissed any of the boys on your list?”
“No.”
“That’s a lie, isn’t it Princess? I heard you tried to climb onto Gulliver’s dick. I heard you told him there were plenty of things you could do to him and still be a virgin.” I snap harshly.
Closing her eyes, she hides from me as her face pales. The moment her lids slip open again, she starts to climb out of my lap, but I wrap my arm around her waist and hold her tightly, forcing her to still. “I asked you a question, Penelope.”
Closing her eyes again, her expression takes on an imperious look. “Just because I’ve never done anything…doesn’t mean I’m unaware of what things to do,” she answers primly, snapping open her eyes as she lifts her chin, sounding exactly like the Penelope I know and hate.
