Crybaby

by K. Webster

  “You just had to push and push. Look where that got you, bad girl. Got you my fat cock down your throat. You going to push my buttons anymore?” He pulls all the way out, sending slobber running down my chin, as he waits for my answer.

  “No, Daddy,” I breathe, flashing him a wicked naughty girl grin.

  He growls and then his cock is sliding deep into my throat again. Hissing and grunting, he fucks my face as though he’ll die if he doesn’t. I do gag when he doesn’t let up and tears run down my cheeks. Thankfully, he slides back out to let me breathe.

  “Aww,” he sneers, his cock jolting in his grip. “Look at the crybaby. Can’t handle the dick.”

  “I’m the crybaby?” I smirk. “You’re the one who’s afraid to fuck me. Newsflash, ass, you can’t hurt me.”

  “I can’t hurt you because you’re already broken!” he roars and points at my hip.

  “You won’t hurt me because you’re a pussy!” I scream back at him. “Too afraid to hurt your precious girl. Won’t fuck her because you’re weak! Mr. I’m Afraid of Nothing, is afraid of a teenager!” I sit up to start clawing at him to push every last button he has when he pounces on me. His hand encircles my throat and he pins me down on the bed. Our half-naked bodies are pressed together. His hard wet cock is pressed against the bare outer thigh of my good leg.

  “You’re being a psycho,” he snaps, his grip tightening around my throat so that I have to hiss for air.

  “You can’t hurt me.” My words are hardly a whisper.

  He snarls and his body quakes with fury. “Don’t test me, girl.”

  Girl.

  Fuck him.

  I spit in his face and then try to claw him. The asshole is quicker and he rolls me onto my stomach. His bony elbow pins my spine down. And then I hear it.

  Swoosh.

  Oh shit.

  Smack!

  Fire rips across my ass when he whips me with his belt. I turn my head to the side and scream. “YOU CAN’T HURT ME!”

  Smack! Smack! Smack!

  He whips me but not hard enough. Still, in all his rage, he holds back. I manage to find his thigh with my hand and dig my nails into him. He jerks my wrist away and then immediately hits me harder with his belt. The sting makes me whimper. This kind of pain is hot and refreshing. Not the dull, familiar hip pain I live with day in and day out.

  “You’re nothing but a spoiled brat,” he snaps. “Why can’t you just let me take care of you?”

  He doesn’t whip me again because his fingers are caressing my ass instead. Then his finger is diving between my thighs and inside of my soaked pussy.

  “Mmm,” I moan. “Fuck me.”

  His growl is maniacal. “No. Your hip cannot take this shit right now.”

  “Fuck me or I’ll leave,” I threaten.

  He laughs, cold and cruel. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ll tie your ass to the bed again. You’re mine, Soph. Fucking mine.”

  “THEN MAKE ME YOURS!”

  His finger slowly teases me but it’s not enough. I’m overcome with defeat and give in to loud, ugly sobs. My ass hurts. My hip hurts. My heart hurts.

  “I-I just need you. I d-don’t want to think about w-what Dr. Bogner said,” I rasp out, my body wracking with emotion.

  His finger stills within me and then he’s dragging it out, smearing my wetness along my thigh. “Come here,” he murmurs softly as he rolls me back over. His hands slide under my arms and he lifts me. I latch onto his neck with my arms and wrap my legs around his waist. He palms my ass to hold me up. A hot, throbbing cock is wedged between us.

  “I just need you,” I whisper again, my lips pressed at his throat.

  He lifts my ass and then his cock impales my wet channel. It surprises me so much so that I cry out. Leaning back, he regards me with emotion-filled navy blue eyes. His mouth meets mine and he kisses me in a reverent way. Neither of us moves. He just holds me as he kisses me. Once we’re breathless, he pulls away again.

  “I know you’re not made of glass,” he says, a frown tugging at his handsome features. “I just feel…” Guilt shines in his eyes. “I feel fucking responsible.”

  I scoff and shake my head. “Umm, why?”

  He swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I could have—”

  I silence him with a kiss. Then, I grab his shoulders to use as leverage. Slowly, I rock up and down along his thick shaft. This position feels good—fills up every part of me with him. Pain radiates from my hip but I can ignore it. Soon, pleasure will numb it as I soar into oblivion. His guilt must take a backseat because he soon urges my movements—taking over doing the hard work—and sucks on my bottom lip. I moan as my head falls back. His teeth nip at my throat. Not softly. Brutally. As though he wants his mark left on me for days for all to see.

  “Touch your pussy,” he demands before biting me again. “Come all over my cock, bad girl.”

  I slide my fingers to my clit and massage myself like he usually does. My senses are on fire. Everything feels like too much. Also, not enough.

  “More,” I beg. “More. More. More.”

  He bucks into me hard from beneath. I’m his to use and abuse. I want all of him, always.

  “I want you to come, Soph,” he mutters against my flesh. “I’m going to come all inside you and I want your pussy milking every drop out of my cock. Come on, baby. Take yourself over the edge.” His throaty, growled words make me crazy. I close my eyes and lose myself to the sensations. And within moments, I’m tipped right off the cliff of sanity. With a scream, I lose myself to the pleasure.

  “Fuck,” he hisses, his cock gushing out his orgasm inside me. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

  I pull away to stare at him even as his cock still throbs inside me. His blue eyes are soft and adoring. I want to see them forever.

  He looks at you the same way your dad looked at your mother.

  The thought hits me so suddenly I think I might vomit. If this thing inside of me is cancerous, it’s over. All of this budding between us will be extinguished. I won’t force him to endure what my father did. What my sister and I went through. My mind drifts to my past in an instant.

  “I’m taking Mommy on a little drive. Miss Edna is going to watch you and your sister,” Daddy tells Olivia and me.

  “I want to go on a drive too,” I tell him. I squeeze my stuffed cat to my chest. If we go for a drive, I don’t want to forget Mr. Meow. We forgot him once when we went to a vacation on the beach when I was four and I cried the entire time.

  Daddy drops to his knee and holds his big strong arms out for Olivia and me. Both of us rush over to him. He seems sad even though he’s smiling. His smile quivers like the Jell-O Mommy used to make when she wasn’t sick all the time.

  “I’ll take you both on a drive another day. I promise,” he chokes out as he kisses us both on the tops of our heads.

  “When will you come back?” Olivia asks. She’s eight and two years older than me so she asks smart questions like that.

  “Will you bring us back ice cream?” I can ask smart questions too.

  Daddy pulls away and tears shimmer in his eyes. It makes my stomach hurt seeing him look so sad. I don’t like it. “I’ll take you two for ice cream just as soon as I can,” he assures us as he stares at me, his eyes looking all over my face as if he’s counting all my freckles.

  “And Mommy too,” I remind him. She’s already waiting in the car.

  Daddy’s eyebrows pinch together as if I’ve whopped him in the head with Mr. Meow. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Daddy,” I say, my voice urgent. “And Mommy too.”

  His gaze flits past us to Miss Edna. “Don’t let them stay up too late,” he instructs, his voice scratchy. A tear sneaks out of his eye and I’m confused. Daddies don’t cry. Our daddy especially doesn’t cry.

  “Daddy,” I whine. “Mommy too!”

  “Sophia,” Olivia whispers. “Stop.”

  He lets us go and rises to his full height. Our daddy is
strong and tall. Like the wrestlers Uncle Mathias watches on TV. “Goodbye, girls.”

  “Daddy!” I cry out and throw my arms around his leg. “Why are you ignoring me?” I burst into tears and sob into his leg.

  He strokes my hair. “I’m not ignoring you,” he coos, his voice soft and reassuring. “I just don’t want to make promises I can’t keep.”

  When he starts to push me away, I throw a tantrum. At six, I don’t have them often but right now I’m confused and upset and angry. Miss Edna has to yank me from my daddy. He throws one more sad look our way before he hurries out the door. I break free from Edna and chase him outside. He sits inside the car and leans in to whisper something to Mommy. She starts to cry but then bravely lifts her chin at me and meets my stare.

  I love you, she mouths to me.

  She waves and Daddy starts the car.

  Olivia stands beside me on the porch steps and hands me Mr. Meow. “You forgot this.”

  I take the plush cat and heave it as far as I can throw it before stomping back inside. Something is happening. My heart hurts because I feel like we’ll never go get ice cream as a family again.

  He took my mother to the hospital to die. Of course they didn’t know how close to death’s door she was, but she never came home. We never saw her again. Her sad face as she waved goodbye is my last memory of my mother.

  Cancer.

  Fucking cancer.

  It had spread to her lymph nodes from her pancreas. They had her on the table removing the nodes when she died. Without warning. Just dead. There was no bringing her back. The cancer had diseased her organs with the fire of a thousand suns. Ravaged through her, decimating everything that was lively and beautiful in its path.

  Dad came back haunted. Changed. Hardened. He closed off that part of his heart up until recently. Her death broke my father. She was the love of his life.

  I’ve always wanted to ask him if with today’s technological advances, could she have lived? Could radiation or chemotherapy have killed the cancer and let her live? Was the surgery what her body simply couldn’t handle?

  Unease clenches my stomach into a fist. What if when they go in to retrieve this tumor, I die too? How would Dad take losing another person he loves on the operating table? Would Drew be devastated like my father was?

  “Sophia.” My name spoken from his perfect lips stills my panic for a brief moment. I get lost in his expressive blue eyes. For one second, life isn’t hard or stressful or painful. It’s just happy. With Drew, I’m able to live a little. “You left me.” Hurt is in his voice. Hard and accusing.

  Emotion clogs my throat and I tear my gaze from his. My eyes fall to his bedside table. A fancy lamp. Some pricy piece of decoration beside it. No personalization. I think about my father’s bedside table. A picture of him and his daughters. Another of Dorian and him.

  It occurs to me that Drew is always so focused on me but I don’t know much about him. I have no idea if he has family or children from a previous marriage. I know nothing.

  His fingers bite into my jaw as he turns my face until it’s facing him again. Long gone are the soft eyes—replaced with a flicker of fear but mostly anger. “Talk to me,” he says coolly.

  I swallow and pull his hand from my jaw. “I know nothing about you.”

  His lip curls up as if he’s about to laugh at me. “I’m inside you this very moment. You’ve been staying with me for days. I’ve spent every available moment with you for nearly two weeks. Not to mention, your sister has been with my best friend for over a year now. What more is there to know? Fuck, you know me better than anyone.”

  “You never talk about your parents or siblings. Your family…” I trail off.

  He clenches his jaw. “My parents and younger sister were killed in a car accident when I was seventeen. I’d been at a football game. I played the entire game thinking they were in the crowd watching. They never made it.” His breath comes out in a swoosh. “That better? I can assure you, you know everything there is to know about Andrew Hamilton.”

  “I’m sorry,” I breathe.

  He looks away. “It was a long time ago.”

  I open my mouth to tell him what I was thinking—that I don’t want to die like my mom did—but his phone rings and interrupts the moment. Gently, he pulls me off his softened cock and sets me on the bed beside him. He climbs off, his ass muscles flexing, as he saunters off to grab his phone.

  “It’s Drew,” he barks in greeting as he disappears into the bathroom.

  I can hear him explaining something to someone in clipped tones. Perhaps another therapist. His expression is guarded when he returns carrying a wet cloth. Despite his outwardly angry mood, he’s sweet as he cleans me between my thighs. His eyes latch on to mine for a long moment before he tears them away to start dressing.

  The moment he’s gone, my heart aches inside my chest.

  Drew is the real deal. He’s a mean ass and slightly crazy but I love his intensity. The way he looks at me is the way I want to be looked at. As though I am everything.

  So I need to be everything.

  I’ll talk to the doctor about chemo or radiation or something.

  Having them slice me open and take me from this world like they took my mother isn’t an option. Drew needs me and I need him. Technology is way too advanced to die by some archaic method. If for some reason the tumor shows up benign, I’ll learn to live with it. I’ve read articles where they can shrink tumors in non-surgical ways. I’m used to the pain and the inability to move. It will be fine.

  It. Will. Be. Fine.

  I’m not going to die.

  I refuse to die.

  Our dynamic has changed. The fiery heat between us has begun to blaze like something I’ve never felt before. Sophia works herself inside my bones. She hooks her sweet claws inside me and holds on. If I were to try and pull her out, she’d shred me from the inside out. Being without her isn’t an option. Like the way she craves her drugs, I crave her. I want her every second of every day. I want to be inside her. I want to lick and suck and bite her. I want to hear her soft voice as she whispers her fears and secrets. Her hopes and dreams. I want to inhale her sweet scent and nothing else.

  Just. Her.

  But she’s growing distant. I can see it in her bright green eyes that have darkened with whatever it is she’s harboring. I’ve probed her some but she blows me off. Changes the subject. Distracts me with her mouth.

  My cock turns to stone as I think about her mouth wrapped around me. It’s been almost a full week since she’s left the hospital. Max comes over to visit everyday. Sometimes Miles and Oliva come. But mostly she’s stuck with me. Since she forced me to fuck her, even though I was really worried she couldn’t handle it being injured and all, I’ve been obsessed with sinking my cock into her. I fuck her every time my dick twitches. She takes it too. Every advance, she’s wet and ready. Open and inviting. Her pussy accepts my cock no matter how I deliver it. Sometimes I’m sweet and soft with her. I worship her tight body and supple lips. Other times, I’m so rough with her she bruises and cries. If she wasn’t begging for more at the same time, I’d have thought I’d gone too far.

  Nothing is ever too far with Soph.

  She wants it all.

  Every single bit of it.

  Today we go for a pre-op appointment and then tomorrow is the big day. They’re going to cut out the tumor to run more tests on it. It should give her immediate relief and she should be able to walk without pain. While they’re in there, they plan to scrape out any scarring that’s hindering her healing. If the tumor shows any cancerous cells, we’ll proceed from there.

  We’re finally taking action so we can get my girl better.

  She will get better.

  I stare at her as she sleeps this morning. We’ll need to get up soon to get ready for the appointment, but I’m greedy for these stolen moments. Her dark hair has fallen over her pretty face but her lips stick out just begging to be kissed. With a smile, I press a soft kiss
to her pouty mouth. She’s naked from our middle of the night romp but I’d bet my entire life savings on the fact that her pussy is wet. I’ve been with plenty of women but never have I been with one who is always ready. Her cunt practically drips for me at all times. I’m not sure if it’s an age thing or just a Sophia thing. Whatever it is, it speaks to the maleness within me. I want to strut around beating my fists on my goddamned chest.

  I run my thumb along her nipple and smile when it hardens at my touch. A small moan escapes her. The cadence of her breathing has slowed and I know she’s waking. Her eyes blink open and the powerful look she gives me almost knocks me over. Fierce possessive emotion assaults me and I pounce on her. She gasps in surprise but then opens herself to me, inviting me in. I’m inside her before my next breath, staring down at her. I thrust my hips and stroke her hair from her face so I can see her.

  Love.

  That’s what it is. There’s no other way to describe how I feel about this girl. It’s intense and all-consuming and fucking powerful. That’s love. I’ve not had much of it in my lifetime. Sure, from my parents when I was a kid and even from my best friend to a certain degree. But never anything like what I have with Sophia. Nothing has ever felt like it controls my every thought and action. This love is pulling my strings. Directing where I’ll go. Moving my mouth when I speak.

  “I’m taking you,” I mutter, my eyes boring into hers. “Forever.”

  A dark brow lifts in surprise. “Like as your captive?”

  My grin is wolfish. “If I have to, yes. I prefer you as my willing victim though.”

  “Dad will kill you,” she retorts.

  I thrust hard enough into her to make her cry out. “He hasn’t killed me yet. I’ve had you in my bed for nearly a week and there’s been no bloodshed. That means you’re mine.”

  Her eyes narrow. “You don’t care what people will think? That you’ve imprisoned this teenage girl?”

  I laugh but it’s dark and calculating. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. I…” Love you so much it makes me fucking crazy. “I just want you here. Always. This isn’t me asking, Soph. This is me telling. I’m keeping you. And if you don’t want to be kept, well, that’s too damn bad. I’m doing it anyway.”