I feel like I’m hyperventilating. I seriously wish I would have packed a brown paper bag into my purse that I could breathe into.
We enter his dark room and he shuts that door as well. “I thought you had changed your mind,” he says as he turns to face me.
I swallow nervously. “I, uh, I went by my house to change.”
His eyes look over my black yoga pants and tank top and I suddenly feel like a child. Should I have put something sexier on? Lingerie? At least kept the high heels on? Men like women who dress up for sex, right? I was just thinking something comfortable. Not ‘oh my gosh’ sexy. This is way out of my territory.
“I thought maybe you were already asleep,” I say trying to make small talk.
He takes a step toward me and his upper lip turns up in a playful smirk. He moves slowly yet confident as if he wants to draw out my unease. “Are you nervous, Missy?” he asks, coming to stand in front of me.
My heart pounds in my chest wildly as I look up at him and try to smile, but it just makes him chuckle. “Don’t be.” He reaches up and places his hand in my hair. I close my eyes and take a relaxing breath. Just the feel of him soothes me.
“Tell me Missy. Why are you here if you’re so nervous?” he murmurs.
I can feel his hot breath on my lips as he whispers and I moan. “Because you told me to,” I say breathlessly.
“Are you telling me you’ll do anything I tell you to?” I continue to keep my eyes shut, and I can hear the excitement in that question.
“Yes.” My body shakes. Did I just say that?
He pulls his head back and gives me a soft kiss on my neck. “Good,” he says before he releases me.
I open my eyes and lick my lips. He stands in front of me still dressed in his basketball shorts with that same hard look on his face that he always has. It makes my stomach flip in anticipation of what he is thinking. He keeps himself so guarded—it’s hard to see what he is thinking.
I stand there in the silence as he stares at me. What is he waiting for? Am I supposed to be doing something? Whatever I did in Vegas was alcohol induced. I don’t know if I can be that person right now.
I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and take a step toward him. A man like Tate wants a woman, not some little girl with no experience. I’m gonna have to fake it. I take another step closing the space and reach down before I pull my tank top up and over my head.
I’ll make the first move. Because I want it. That’s why I’m here. Not because he told me to but because I wanted to come.
Before my shirt even hits the floor he pushes me up against the wall with his tall body as his hands slide up the side of my face, pushing my hair back in the process. “Tell me to stop,” he says hoarsely.
“No,” I whisper. My body is already trembling with want for him. Needing him.
“I won’t be able to be soft.” He pushes me harder into the wall as he growls, and I whimper.
“I don’t want soft,” I say honestly. I want all of him. Every bit of him. That’s one thing about Tate. He thinks he’s not good enough for me. He thinks he needs to be someone else. Doesn’t he understand I’m already in love with the real him?
“Missy,” his voice breaks, and I know his control is breaking as well. He lowers his head to mine; resting his forehead on mine. “What are you doing to me?” he breathes.
“Nothing yet,” I respond running my hands up his back. I allow my fingernails to dig in and his body shudders. I can feel his muscles tighten as I make my way back down his back.
“What do you want Missy?” he growls, and his usual dark expression doesn’t change.
“Remind me what it was like,” I whisper, trying to pull him closer to me. His body heat is setting my skin on fire.
“Need me to remind you what it’s like to be fucked by a real man?” he growls, and I gasp. “Tell me, Missy—Braxton not cutting it anymore?”
My mind screams shut up but my insides clench as he speaks of Braxton. I like the jealous side of him.
I suck in a deep breath and lick my lips before I answer. “Tate…” His name is spoken softly, showing how weak I truly am for him, and he rewards me with a slow and sexy smile showcasing off those beautiful straight white teeth.
He runs his thumb slowly along my jawline. “Don’t you?” His deep voice sends a shiver through me.
I swallow nervously and then nod my head. I wonder if he knows that he already owns every part of me. “Please.” My voice is quiet.
He pauses and his blue eyes darken. His body tenses and he shakes his head. “Don’t beg for it. Fucking demand it. Tell me what you want and then make me believe it.”
I inhale sharply. Demand it? I’m not good at dirty talk. What do I say exactly? “I want you to fuck me.”
His lips turn up slightly at the corners at how childish I must have sounded. “Not good enough, sweetheart.” He drops his arms and takes a step back.
“Wait,” I say grabbing for his arm. I pull him back into me and look up into his eyes and tell him exactly what I’ve been wanting. “Fuck me like you’ve wanted me as much as I have you.”
“Have you dreamed of me touching you again?” he questions, running his hands up my sides.
“Yes,” I sigh.
“Tell me what I do to you in your dreams.” He pushes his erection into my stomach, and I whimper.
I swallow nervously. What doesn’t he do in my dreams? “You kiss me,” I say leaning back against the wall.
“Where?” he demands.
“Everywhere.”
His hand runs down my side and slowly slides between my legs. He cups my sex and I moan. “Do I kiss you here?” He presses his palm against me and the motion has me standing up on tiptoes. “Do I?”
I take in a deep breath as my sex clenches with the image of him between my legs.
His other hand makes its way up the back of my neck and he grabs a hold of my hair at the base of my neck and he pulls on it. I gasp.
“Tell me, sweetheart,” he breathes against my lips, “do I fuck your pussy with my tongue?” His tongue comes out and slowly runs the length of my lips teasingly.
My sex tightens at those words, and I start to pant. He pushes his tongue between my lips, and I open my lips to allow him easier access. My tongue dances with his as his hand massages my sex over my yoga pants.
Geez, why did I wear clothes?
His hand stops its sweet torture. “Say it. Say, baby fuck my pussy with your tongue.”
Doesn’t matter how turned on I am—how bad I want him to do just that, I still blush at his words.
I shake my head, not wanting to do it. It won’t sound sexy. It will sound childish, and he’ll laugh at me.
He pulls away and places both hands on either side of my face, holding it still as he lowers his face down to mine. “Don’t be shy, Missy.” His dark blue eyes roam my face.
“I’m not…” He lowers a hand to my chest and he pulls down my bra, showcasing my breast.
I gasp as my hands instinctively covers my breast. He grabs a hold of them and pins them to the wall by my head. He gives me a wicked grin. “You are,” he argues, and I try to remove my hands from his grasp. To my surprise he lets go. I go to wrap my arms around his neck, but he drop to his knees before me.
I go to take a step back as he grabs the waistband of my yoga pants but I’m up against the wall. “Step out,” he demands once they are down by my ankles. I do as he says quickly, and he throws them over to the side of the room.
He stands and wraps an arm around me picking me up. He turns around, tosses me onto the bed, and crawls on top of me.
“Tate…”
He places a finger over my mouth quieting me as he stares down at me. “You will tell me what you want,” he says, and my eyes widen. He removes his finger and runs his hand down the middle of my chest. His body slowly makes its way down my body to where he lies between my legs.
Placing his hands under my knees he pulls my legs up and spreads th
em apart. They shake with anticipation as he stares down at me with those dark blue eyes. His finger dips into my panties, and I whimper, arching my back. “You want me to tease you, sweetheart?” he asks, and I lift my hips needing friction against my sex. “I have all night.”
I turn my head from side to side. He’s going to torture me.
He chuckles.
“Tell me,” he whispers, lowering his head between my legs. I jerk when I feel his lips on my sex through my panties.
“Tate,” I cry out arching my back. My body is wound so tight it needs a release. “Fuck me…” I pant. “Fuck me with your tongue.” The words come out sounding desperate, but that’s exactly what I am right now. Desperate for his mouth on me.
I feel his fingers slide into my panties before they are ripped from my hips. Then his wet lips touch mine seconds before his tongue comes out and enters me in my most private area. I cry out as my sex tightens.
“Fuck me! You taste fucking amazing,” he mumbles against my sex, and I whimper.
My body thrashes against the sheets as his tongue slowly runs up my sex before circling my clit. My body bows when he places it between his teeth and lightly nibbles on it.
I tighten my legs around his neck trying to fight the sensation that starts to creep up my spine. My body heats up and I start to sweat. He groans against my clit and his hands grab the back of my knees, spreading them farther apart as he goes as deep as he can, as fast as he can.
I pant and my body thrashes underneath him. I arch my back and my neck as a strangled cry leaves my mouth when the sensation explodes around me.
He remains between my legs, his mouth on my lips, as he takes everything it has to offer.
When he finally pulls away, I lie here spent and unable to move due to the best high of my life. Why have I waited so long to have an orgasm? My skin tingles and my heart races.
I take in a few deep breaths as I hear him rustle around in his room. Then I feel the bed dip next to me before he hovers over me.
I open my heavy eyes and look up at him. He licks his wet lips and then gives me a smirk. “I wanted to taste you for the longest time.” My body shakes as my sex clenches. “And you know what?” he asks, leaning down, bringing his lips inches from mine. “You tasted better than I could have imagined.” Then his lips slam on mine.
I open up for him not caring that he just went down on me. I open my mouth wide allowing him to get deeper. He kisses my mouth just as rough as he just fucked my pussy. No softness and no holding back.
I feel his hand slide down my thigh and my still shaking legs fall open. His fingers lazily run over my sex and I whimper.
He pulls his mouth away from mine and my head falls to the side as I inhale deeply—trying to catch my breath. He places his hand on my face and pulls it back to where I have to stare up at him. He smirks. “You look fucking beautiful like this,” he says softly.
I close my eyes feeling sleepy all of a sudden. I feel his body heat leave mine as he pulls away. My eyes spring open as I’m flipped over to stomach. His hand comes down on my ass; it didn’t hurt but I cry out in surprise.
“Up on your knees,” he demands and I scramble to do as he says no longer sleepy.
I hear a wrapper being opened and then see something being thrown to the floor out of the corner of my eye.
I shift on my shaky knees and a hand grabs my hip to stabilize me. I dig my face into the pillow when his free hand cups my throbbing sex. He grunts when he slides two fingers easily between my folds. “I could play with this pussy all night,” he says softly and I let out a long breath. “Would you let me, baby? Can I have this pussy as many times as I want tonight?”
“Yes,” I whimper as I rock against his hand, needing more. It’s throbbing for another release.
He plunges two fingers deeply into me and I pull away, still sensitive. “Sit still,” he says as his other hand grips my hip tightly. The feel of his fingers inside me, stretching, is burning and enjoyable at the same time.
I relax as he pulls them out but he then pushes them in again, roughly this time. “Fuck,” he hisses. “This pussy is so fucking wet.” I moan as he moves his fingers inside of me. “So fucking tight,” he growls as he shifts on his knees.
I groan in disappointment when he pulls them out and leaves me feeling empty.
“Face down,” he demands, placing his hand on my back, forcing my chest and face down onto the bed. I whimper as I feel my ass up in the air before him. “Such a pretty pink pussy,” he murmurs in appreciation.
He leans over my back as he positions his dick between my legs. I tense as I feel the head at my entrance. “Relax,” he orders through gritted teeth as he enters me from behind.
I close my eyes tightly as I scream out as he stretches my sex. My heart pounds against the mattress as I take a few deep breaths. It feels just as good as I remember. I like that burning sensation that I get only when he stretches me.
He growls. “Fuck.” His hands tighten on my hips as they dig into my skin. His knees push against mine spreading my legs even further apart.
He pulls back “Fuck, baby,” he repeats. “Feels so fucking good.” He slams into me, and I gasp.
He pulls back and does it again and I arch my back as my hands dig into the sheets. He lets go of my hip and his free arm reaches around. It finds its way to my clit, and he massages it roughly—pinching and pulling—while his hips work back and forth in a fast pace.
I gasp for air as my body shakes and my skin breaks out in a thin layer of sweat as I feel the sensation start to build up again. “God,” I say through clenched teeth. Trying to ignore the pain and only find the pleasure. The pleasure that only he can bring me.
“Come,” he orders. “I want you to come all over my cock this time, baby.” He pulls back and thrusts forward. His fingers pinch my clit and I cry out into the pillow letting go once again.
He slows down and leans over my back as my body shakes still propped up on my knees. His lips softly land on my shoulder and he whispers, “You sound so sexy when you come.”
“Tate…” My voice is hoarse and my throat is dry.
“Hmm?” he mumbles before sucking my earlobe into his mouth. “We’re not done, sweetheart.” I whimper. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard and for so long that no other man will ever satisfy you again,” he says matter-of-fact.
I know him seeing me with Braxton tonight is the only reason he brought me over here, and honestly it’s the only reason I came. I am the girl who Braxton mistakened me for. I’m the stupid girl who will tell herself a lie in order to get what she wants and I want Tate. Even if it is just sex.
CHAPTER FIVE
TATE
“I wouldn’t do that. I love you,” she cries as I come up to the front door.
“Lies,” he shouts before I hear him slap her.
I try desperately to get the right key in the front door. My heart pounds and my hands shake. In an effort to move better, I throw my backpack to the ground.
“Please?” she sobs, and my chest tightens. He loves it when she begs. Why does she give him what he wants? “You have to believe me.” Her words come out slurred from her desperate attempt to keep him from beating her.
“Last chance. Where the fuck was your son today? Is he over at that whore and her little bitch’s house?”
I fumble the keys and curse myself for dropping them. Screw this! I run over to the living room window and pick up a rock from the garden. As soon as the glass shatters, I jump through the window, cutting myself in several places. I ignore the pain and run through the house until I come sliding into the kitchen.
She looks up to him with big eyes and he goes to walk away from her but she clings to his leg like a small child would a comforting teddy bear. I don’t understand why she wants him to stay. Why she lets him do this to her.
“No,” she cries but as soon as the words leave her mouth he shoves her back down to the ground.
I watch as he turns and looks right at me.
His blue eyes are narrowed and jaw tight. “Where the fuck have you been, son?” he demands.
“I’m not your son,” I shout, not caring to fill the drunk bastard in on the fact that I had school today. Just like every other day. I’m only ten after all.
His nostrils flare and his eyes stare into mine as his anger festers. “I will teach you some fucking manners,” he snaps before he comes charging at me.
My mom screams and I only take a second to look down at her as she crawls on the kitchen tile, but that second was all that he needed. I blink looking up to the ceiling as I lie on the kitchen floor with him sitting on top of me. Splitting headache and aching back, I throw my hands up to protect my face. I try to be brave and stand up to him, but I lose every time. I’m only ten and the bastard has over a hundred pounds on me.
My mom jumps on his back and he leans up before tossing her to the side like a rag doll.
He turns back to me and I see stars before me as his right fists connects with my jaw. He goes to throw another one when I reach up and block it.
“Who the hell am I?” he demands as he grabs my shirt and pulls my head up off the floor. “Who the fuck am I?” he yells, and the smell of alcohol fills my nose.
“My dad,” I say, giving up the fight. He could go at it for hours until he passes out. And lately that’s late into the morning hours.
He lets go of my shirt and my head falls to the floor once again. He pulls his arm back as if he’s gonna hit me and I flinch. The bastard laughs at me.
A loud scream comes through my dream. I sit up in bed, breathing heavy and sweating. The darkness has me disoriented but I hear a soft cry from beside me. I turn on the lamp next to my bed and look over to the blonde lying beside me.
Missy is sitting next to me with her hand over her face and blood running down her chin.
“Missy?” I croak out. “What’s wrong?” I ask leaning over to her but she pulls away. Did I do that to her?
“I’m okay,” she says quietly.
“What happened?” I ask, fear gripping my chest.
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