by Gemma Weir
“I want to spread you out naked on this bed and watch as I slide my dick into you for the first time. Are you a virgin, Princess?”
I shake my head, words failing me.
“I wish I was the first person to take your pussy, but that’s okay. I’m going to fuck you until you don’t remember anyone but me. Until the only person you crave is me. Until the only person who can make you wet, the only one who can make you come, is me.”
His voice surrounds me, the possessive growl in his words wrapping around me and making me crave everything he’s saying.
“I want you to be mine, Princess; every inch of you. All of the broken parts, everything. I want all of you.”
“I want that too,” I say through a gasp, and I’m surprised to realize I mean it. I want him, all of him: the truths, the mysteries, everything good and bad. I want it all.
We should be talking, we should be getting to know each other, moving beyond the fucked- up way we started, but right now, blinded by the tease of pleasure, all I want is his mouth on me, his hands on me, his cock in me.
I’ve had sex before, and I’ve enjoyed it, but I’ve never been desperate for it the way I am now. I’ve never been so blinded by need.
In a rush of hands, I help him pull off my tank, then pluck at the fabric of his shirt until he drags it over his head, revealing his marble like chest and the tattoo I hadn’t realized he had inked across his skin. An angel bowed, his head down, his wings ragged and tattered calls to me and I lift my fingers and run them along the single line of text that runs beneath it. “I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.” I read aloud, barely loud enough to be heard.
His lips on mine distract me and I lose myself again in his kiss. My shorts and his jeans disappear next and then we’re lying on his bed, him just in his boxers, the fabric stretched taut by his straining cock and me in my panties and bra.
His head dips and he pulls my nipple into his mouth through the lace of my bra. I gasp, arching into his touch, pushing him for more. Probing fingers slide my panties over my hips and dip between my legs, stroking the wetness of my sex and rubbing my clit.
“Valentine,” I moan.
His fingers slide from between my legs and he covers my mouth. “Shhhh, you need to be quiet.”
I can feel the wetness on his fingers and without thought I dart out my tongue and lick my arousal from his skin.
“Holy shit,” he growls. “Do that again.”
My gaze locks with his and I deliberately, slowly, lick up the length of his finger as he watches me.
His eyes hood and he sits up, palming his hard dick beneath his boxers. I watch as he climbs off the bed, walks to the door and closes it, before crossing to his backpack and pulling a condom from his wallet.
We’re both silent as he pushes his boxers over his hips and they fall to the floor revealing his hard cock and the patch of dark hair between his thighs. Thick and dripping with pre-cum his dick is standing proud and I gulp.
He lifts the condom to his mouth and rips the foil with his teeth. Gripping his dick, he slides his hand up and down twice, then expertly rolls the condom on and lifts his eyes to mine. Valentine prowls toward me, a hunter catching his prey. His knees hit the bed, and he climbs above me, pausing as he stares at me, taking his fill. In a second my panties and bra are gone and I’m naked.
“So perfect,” he whispers, before his face drops to mine and his lips claim me in a kiss so drenched in lust I can almost taste it.
Fingers slide into my soaked core and I arch off the bed, seeking the pleasure I know he can give me. His thumb teases my clit as he pumps in and out of me. His tongue in my mouth overwhelms my senses until time stops and everything shrinks down to his hands on me, in me, and the orgasm that shatters from my core, pushing upward as my muscles clench and my cries of pleasure are swallowed by his lips.
Before my orgasm can fade, his cock is probing at my entrance, his hands on either side of my face.
“Princess,” he whispers, his face mere inches from mine.
I know he wants my permission, but I can’t make any words come from my lips, so instead I wrap my legs around his back and lift my hips, pushing the tip of his cock inside me.
“Fuck.” The word is a pained groan right before he snaps his hips forward and fills me.
The feeling of fullness is amazing and my eyes fall closed as I tighten my legs around him. He pulls out slowly then eases back into me, his fingers stroking my cheeks, my jaw, my hair. I press my lips to his to swallow my moans as he pumps in and out of me, lifting my hips to deepen each thrust.
“God, fuck,” he whispers, as I claw at his back.
“Faster.” I beg, needing more, my body on edge and searching for release.
“So tight, so fucking perfect.”
“Harder, Valentine, please.” I beg.
I look up and his eyes flash with heat before he sits up, pulling my hips off the bed. Gripping my waist, he thrusts back into my soaking wet pussy, slamming into me hard and deep with an intensity that makes every nerve ending in my body spark to life. He thrusts over and over until my eyes roll back in my head and I slap my hand over my mouth to stifle the groans and cries that are coming from me.
He chases down my orgasm with a single-minded intent, pushing me higher until my core clenches and a strangled cry bursts from my throat. He follows me over the edge, pumping into me, once, twice, three times more, then collapsing onto my chest, his breath ragged and his torso covered in a sheen of sweat.
I wrap my arms around him, tremors still running through my limbs. I don’t want to let go of him. Fear that this connection will fade the moment I release him has me gripping him tighter, clinging to him. My heart is telling me that nothing will change. That we like each other, and the way we touched each other, the way he made me feel is a good thing. But my head is shouting at me that this was just him tangling me even further into his web of deceit and manipulative lies.
Pressing my lips to his, I try to block out the taunting doubts, to trust in my forgiveness, to trust in his sincerity. His lips move against mine and he sighs. The sound is happiness and contentment and I feel some of the anxiety leave me.
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips. “But we need to get dressed before Brandi comes up here and finds us naked with my cock still inside you. I’m pretty sure that’d push her over the edge, and I don’t want to end up in some group home in Alaska.”
His words are everything I needed to hear. This was real. My throat clogs with emotion, and I bury my face into his neck, hiding as I wrap my arms and legs tighter around him, unwilling to let him go.
“Princess.”
“You need a lock on your door,” I groan.
“I know, but that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”
Reluctantly I release him, watching as he pulls the condom off and ties it in a knot, carrying it with him to the bathroom. My limbs are sated and relaxed and I roll to the side, pulling the covers over me and closing my eyes.
A moment later the comforter is ripped from me and I feel a stinging pain on my butt as Valentine swats me playfully with his hand. “I can’t have you naked in my bed without fucking you again. Don’t be a cocktease, Princess. Get dressed.”
Ignoring him, I curl into a ball, my body too relaxed to move.
“Nova,” he snaps, all hint of his playful demeanor gone. “I’m serious, get dressed.”
My clothes hit me a minute later and I reluctantly unfurl, snarling at him as I do. “You’re mean.”
“Yeah, I’m an asshole for not wanting to get shipped off for fucking my foster family’s favorite niece.”
“Whatever,” I whine petulantly, pulling my tank over my head and my shorts up my legs, not bothering to put on my underwear.
“Are you fucking serious?” he snaps, anger and frustration now lacing his tone.
“What?”
“Is that what you want? For us to get found with my dick in you? Are you hoping that they’ll sen
d me away?”
“Of course not,” I snap back, indignant anger rising in me to match his.
“Then stop behaving like a spoilt little bitch.”
“I’m not behaving like that,” I snap, my voice a little louder than necessary. “But thanks for ruining my post orgasm buzz, you asshole.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. How incredibly insensitive of me. I ruined your buzz. Wow.”
“You’re being a complete asshole right now, Valentine. All I wanted to do was have a minute to enjoy how good I was feeling. I was hoping we could maybe enjoy the afterglow together for a second,” I shout.
Valentine scrubs at his face. “I’m not being an asshole. This isn’t my home. This isn’t my family. I make one wrong step and I’m gone. Do you not get that? I’m hanging on by a thread here as it is after they found out about all the bullshit between us. If they find us fucking, that’s it, game over. There’s no forgive and forget for me, Nova. I’m not like you. I don’t have a hundred people all on my side making sure I’m okay. All I have is me.”
I stare at him, not expecting his outburst, or the way the truth of his words makes my heart hurt. Stepping toward him, I reach for his arm, but he steps back, his hands out in front of him keeping me away.
“Look, maybe you should go.”
“What?” I ask.
“We shouldn’t have done that, not here. After everything that happened last night, I can’t risk it.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, moving toward him even though he obviously wants me to go. “What happened last night?”
“Nova, just go.”
“No,” I cry. “Talk to me. Tell me what the fuck is going on. Ten minutes ago, you were telling me you want all of me and now you’re pushing me away.”
“I can’t, I just can’t. Go, please just go.”
The look in his eyes makes my stomach drop and my breath catch in my throat. I stop moving toward him and pause. “I don’t know what’s happening here.”
He inhales deeply, then pins me with his stormy, turbulent gaze. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“This?”
“Us. I can’t risk getting sent away from here. I don’t—” He stops himself from saying whatever he was going to say next and his fingers fold into fists at his side. “This was a mistake.”
“I don’t believe you,” I whisper, not prepared to see any truth in him.
“Get out.”
I stare at him, shaking my head slowly back and forth.
“Get out, get the fuck out, Nova,” he roars.
I stand my ground for a long moment, then I turn and walk away from him.
What have I done? What the fuck have I done?
The moment the door closes behind her, I want to chase after her, but I can’t. Everything I told her was true and now with my mom making a reappearance I can’t risk getting sent away from here. My mom has enough money to make things happen. Right now, with me here, at least Sleaze and Brandi are on my side. They’ll fight for what I want, or at least I think they will. But if I get sent to another group home, then I’m at the mercy of the state again and money talks.
Mom.
I’ve tried so hard to block all thoughts of her out of my mind. At school I could wrap myself up in protecting Nova, but at the end of the day even she couldn’t keep the memories of the woman who gave birth to me at bay.
Mom.
I scoff, should I even call her that anymore? She stopped playing that role the moment my dad was killed. Tricia said she’s been in some kind of treatment program, but that’s all I know. Last night is a blur.
A pulse of panic wells up inside of me and I try to swallow it down. If my mom wanted me back, I’d be there by now. The mega rich throw money at problems to solve them and everyone has a price. I know that more than anyone.
Bella.
An image of her rises to the front of my mind and I swallow down the tide of revulsion that follows it. I thought she loved me. I thought she needed to be protected. I thought I loved her. All of those things had been wrong.
* * *
Eighteen months earlier
“Baby, it’s going to be so easy,” she assures me, her eyes bright with excitement.
“How are we going to get there?”
“Vaughn is going to lend us his car to use. We drive over to Lenny’s house, get the stuff, then drive to your old school, find whatever party is on and start to sell. We have the whole weekend before anyone will report us missing and by then we’ll have a shit ton of cash and be one step closer to freedom.” She smiles and steps into me, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“Do you even know how much we charge? I’ve never bought drugs; what if we don’t sell it all?” I ask, still not convinced on Bella’s plan.
“Lenny will tell us how much to sell it for, then we add a bit and keep the skim off the top for ourselves,” she says, her hands running over my back, her tits pressing into my chest.
“Do you think skimming from a drug dealer is the best idea? What happens if he finds out?”
“Vali, baby, you sound like a pussy. This is easy money,” she scoffs, her tone both annoyed and taunting.
She’s been telling me this for weeks: how easy it is to make money, how we’ll be able to run away together. But something is warning me that this is wrong, that we shouldn’t do it.
I think back to the girl I met all those months ago in the media room, but that sad, skinny girl is gone. From the first time I spoke to her there was an instant connection and we’ve been inseparable ever since. We know everything about each other. She’s my best friend, the love of my life, my soulmate. We both have tragic pasts. She’s been in and out of foster homes her whole life and she’s here because she ran away from the last place when her foster dad kept coming into her room at night and even though she tried to tell people no one would believe her.
Being with her is effortless. She knows all about my mom and my dad; my life before everything went to shit. I remember the day I told her about my past and her tiny arms wrapped around me, comforting me as her heart bled for me. I love her so much. This girl who’s been a throwaway her entire life was moved to tears by my tale of woe when hers is so much more gut-wrenching than mine could ever be. We need each other and when I told her about my trust fund, how if I can get emancipated, I’ll have enough money to look after both of us, I saw the flash of hope in her eyes.
Bella was the first friend I made in my new life, the most important person in the world to me. But since she brought up this idea about selling coke for some guy she met in her last group home, I can’t help but feel like she’s acting differently. The Bella who wants to sell drugs to kids isn’t the same person as the one who held my hand and cried as she told me about being separated from her sister and constantly having to move school.
“Valentine, are you even listening to me?” she snaps, her chipped red-painted fingernails digging into my spine.
“Of course I am. I just don’t think we should do this. If we get caught, we could get arrested. What’s the point of risking being separated when all this is so we can be together? We just need to wait it out. Maybe if I can get my GED, I can get my trust? Then we just have to wait for you to age out of the system.”
“No,” she hisses, cutting me off, her face screwed up into an angry snarl. “No, I don’t want to wait years. We need to do this. I want to do this, and if you loved me like you say you do, you’d want to do this too.”
I jolt back at the venom in her voice. “You know I love you.”
Her expression softens and she curls into me again. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, baby. Let’s do this; let’s get this money then run. If...” She pauses, blinking a huge wet tear from her eye. “If they split us up, I could get sent anywhere. They could send me back to the Bakers and Mr. Baker, h- he could...” She blinks rapidly and another tear spills from her eye.
“No,” I snap. “No, I won’t let them send you back there, I promise.”
“So we’ll do it?” she asks, her smile glorious and bright, the tears gone from her eyes.
“Yeah, let me go grab my shit from my room, then we can go get the car from Vaughn.”
Squealing, she jumps into my arms and kisses me, wiggling provocatively before shimmying back down to the floor. “I love you. Go get sorted and I’ll let Lenny know we’re on our way.”
Stepping away from her, I leave the room and turn toward the stairs to go grab the few meagre items I want to keep from my shitty bunk in the dorm. Then I stop, feeling the weight of my cell phone still in my pocket. How can she call Lenny, she doesn’t have a cell?
Retracing my steps, I pause when I hear her voice. The door is ajar and silently, I push it open an inch. Bella is looking out of the window, her back to the door, a cell phone pressed to her ear.
“Yeah, he’s in. Yeah.”
She laughs and the sound is unfamiliar. How’s that possible? I know all of her laughs; the slight variations in her voice that tell me how she’s feeling. I know them, I recognize them all.
“Yeah, I told him we’re borrowing the car from Vaughn. So get Morris ready to pick us up once we’ve collected the gear on the way out of town.”
She pauses again, obviously listening to whoever is on the other end of the phone.
“No,” she giggles. “He won’t have a clue that the cop is fake, and if he does suspect anything, I’ll convince him he’s wrong.”
She pauses, listening. “He’ll believe anything I tell him. Because he loves me,” she says in a mocking tone.
“I already told you, we’ll convince him that you paid off the cop, but that we owe you. He can sell product until he can convince the courts to give him access to his trust or until he turns eighteen.”
She pauses again.
“Millions, baby, millions. His mom’s loaded.”
Pause.
“Yeah, his dad got shot and his mom lost the plot.”
Pause.
“No, it’s his money. We can wring him dry, baby, all that money.”
Pause.
“So what if I fuck him? I’m still fucking you.”