by Gemma Weir
Needing to calm down I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath, trying to slow my racing heart. The moment my eyelids close, all I can see is images of Priss on her knees while I feed my dick into her mouth and tell her exactly what to do to make me come.
Shit. Snapping my eyes open again I count to one hundred, banishing each dirty, depraved image that pops into my head and refusing to allow myself to fantasize. When my heartbeat finally slows to a normal rate, I open the car door, grab the camera from the trunk, and climb onto my boat, letting myself into the galley and immediately heading for the bedroom.
Opening the door, I find her exactly where I told her to be, sat in the middle of the big bed, the TV playing quietly in the corner.
“Hi,” she says, immediately turning all of her attention to me.
Her gaze drops to the bag in my hand and I fight the urge to reach down and adjust my thickening cock. Just knowing that she’s in here because I told her to be, turns me the fuck on.
I have a few control issues but usually they only affect me, I don’t force my idiosyncrasies onto other people. I always manage to tone it down with the girls from school, let them think they’re in charge as they bounce on my dick, but at the back of my mind I’m ordering them around, demanding their complete surrender and compliance.
Priss seems to be the exception to that rule, and I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop myself from taking control with her. Something about the way she looks at me, like I’m beneath her but her savior all at the same time, makes the proclivities that I usually fight to suppress, surge to life.
She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and I wish it was me biting her, nibbling on her soft flesh while she does exactly what I tell her to. And she will, I already know that without ever having touched her. Carrigan—Priss—will do everything I ask her to, because I think she needs that control too. Suddenly I don’t care that there’s a good reason to fuck her, I don’t care that this isn’t about us, that it’s about the greater good. All I care about is that soon I’m going to have her at my mercy, I’m going to own her for as long as it takes, and I can’t fucking wait.
“Hi,” I say, dropping the bag to the bed and immediately pulling out the tripod, unclipping the legs and extending them to reach the floor.
“Did you get everything?” she asks, not moving closer to the bag, her fingers nervously twisting together in her lap.
“Yeah, the video camera has a few hours’ worth of internal memory, so we can record straight to it and then you can transfer it onto a memory stick or just keep the camera, whatever you need,” I say, my hands busily setting up the equipment, my dick more than eager to get things started.
“Okay,” she says meekly, and I stop what I’m doing and turn to look at her.
“Are you okay? We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Arlo’s already planning to get his families lawyers to check the will over to see if there’s a loop hole. I’m sure this isn’t the only way to break it Carrigan,” I tell her, hating every word that’s coming out of my mouth if it means I won’t get to touch her, but knowing she needs to be sure.
“No, I’m sure. A lawyer might find a loop hole, but I can’t stay in the city while they look. My parents are out of control, they want me to marry Rupert before I finish school, they want me to have a baby,” she says, the horror on her face so palpable I almost reach for her, only stopping myself when I remember that we aren’t friends. “So this is my only option.”
Lowering the video camera to the bed, I sit down on the side and motion to her. “Come here.”
She moves forward instantly, then pauses at my side.
“On my lap,” I tell her.
Her movements are slow and filled with insecurities, but she does as I ask, crawling onto my lap and sitting stiffly.
“How old were you when your great-grandfather died?”
“Fourteen.”
“Did you have a boyfriend?”
She shakes her head.
“Has a guy ever touched you Priss?”
“No,” she says, not looking at me.
“Have you ever touched anyone?”
“No.”
“Didn’t you try to climb Arlo’s dick and tell him there were things you could do to him and still be a virgin?” I say harshly.
Her face pales and she moves to climb out of my lap, but I wrap an arm around her waist to stop her. “I asked you a question.”
“I…” her lips harden and she lifts her chin, arching her neck imperiously. “I know what things to do, even if I’ve never done them,” she says, sounding like the Carrigan I know and hate.
“And what things are those?”
Wiggling, she tries to get free but I tighten my hold on her. “Sit still,” I order, and she complies without thought.
“Whose idea was it to seduce your sister’s fiancé, yours or your mom’s?”
“I’m not innocent,” she cries, her eyes bright and flashing with intensity. “I know my sister wants me to be a victim, but I’m not. I’m a terrible person, I did awful things, just like our parents did.”
“I know you’re not innocent and I know you’re not a good person, but that’s not the question I asked you, is it?” I wait for her answer, but she doesn’t speak. “Priss.”
“Hers, it was hers, but I went along with it, I did it,” she says in a rush, her cheeks red and her lower lip wobbling.
Carrigan is a bitch, I didn’t imagine that. But unless she’s a really fucking good actress, this girl, my Priss, is a fucking mess. She’s insecure and sad and guilty, so fucking guilty that’s it’s oozing out of her, and I feel myself soften a little towards both sides of her.
“You one hundred percent sure you want to do this?” I ask, wanting to make sure, before I let myself get too excited about this actually happening
“I’m sure,” she says, her voice quiet but steely.
Tapping her knee, I reach up and touch her cheek with the back of my knuckles. “Okay, jump off then and I’ll set up this camera.”
Her inhale is shaky, but like I expected she moves off my lap and crawls back to the top of the bed.
Five minutes later the camera is set up, the power cord plugged into the wall, just in case, the tripod setup in front of the bed. Now there’s nothing left to do but grab the remote and get naked. I’ve deliberately avoided looking at Priss. I can feel her tension from here, exuding off her in waves, but I can’t do anything to comfort her, that’s not what this is about. I’m not her boyfriend, this isn’t about candles and moonlight and roses. This is fucking. Sex. My dick in her hot, wet, virgin cunt, and I wish I could say I’m not excited about that, but I am.
Climbing onto the bed on my knees, my back to the camera, I pull my shirt over my head and drop it to the floor. I’m not ashamed of being naked, its natural and I know I look good, I work out, and it shows. Her eyes widen comically as she takes in my bare skin and I can’t help the smile that slides across my mouth.
“Your turn Priss, take your top off.”
She faulters and I tilt my head to the side and assess her. There’s a light tremor in her hands as she reaches for the bottom of her shirt and starts to peel it up, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of pale smooth skin.
I swear that time stops, and it’s like she’s on slow motion because it seems to take an extraordinarily long amount of time until the pink of her bra is revealed. Pink, what is it with this prickly bitch and the pink clothes? I’d expect her to favor black, like her soul, but it’s always pink, this soft girly color that screams young and innocent, neither of which I’d associate with Carrigan.
Her breasts are small but pert, and straining at the delicate satin cups of her bra; the hint of a rosy nipple peeking out where the lace edges the top. My mouth waters and I fight the desire to pull her breast free and lap at her nipple with my tongue. To sink my teeth into the sensitive skin and bite down, sucking until she’s not sure if she wants to pull away or push closer to my mouth.
Can I make her come just by playing with her nipples? Will they be sensitive, or does she want this to be a mechanical interaction, nothing more than a transaction with the sole purpose of breaking her hymen?
No, I’m in charge. I agreed to do this but only as long as I get to call the shots and sex is about more than just shoving my dick into her, or at least for me it is. I want her mindless, lost to the pleasure I can give her. This is the only time I’ll get her, so I need to make an impression.
It’s a selfish fucked up thing, but I want her to compare every sexual experience she has in the future with this. I want her to remember me, to remember how she screamed so loud her throat was hoarse. Remember how sore she felt the next day, and not just because I was the first person to be inside her, but because she was well used and satisfied. I want this experience cemented in her brain for the rest of her life and if there’s any way to do it, I want a copy of the video so I can remember it too and maybe watch it sometime.
Suddenly time speeds up again and she pulls the shirt over her head. Insecurity fills her eyes as she drops the fabric to the comforter and clenches her hands into fists at her sides, fighting the need to cover herself.
“Beautiful,” I tell her, my eyes roving over her torso, as I reach out and brush my fingertip across her hard nipple.
Her exhale of breath is loud and a little of the fear leeches from her eyes.
“Bra next,” I order, my voice harder than I planned, my control slipping a little.
Lifting her hands she moves to unclip the strap, but I find myself moving before I realize I’m actually doing it. “Stop.”
She freezes and I move closer. “I changed my mind, turn around, I want to do it.”
Slowly she shuffles around until her back is to me, and I get to see her shoulders and the smooth skin that flows down her spine to the waistband of her shorts. Reaching out I trail a fingertip from the base of her neck, down over her bra strap, all the way down until I reach coarse denim. With the edge of my fingernail I scrape my way back up, not pressing hard, but just hard enough that I can see the mark on her skin.
I deftly unclip her bra, pushing the straps off her shoulders. Her breaths become more visible, and without thought I lean down and press a kiss between her shoulder blades, watching as goosebumps rise across her skin.
“Turn around,” I whisper, still a command, but I don’t need to be loud for her to hear me and comply. She needs this as much as I do, I don’t know how I know it but I do.
Her movement is faster, like she’s made the decision to embrace what we’re doing, like she wants to do as I say, and then she’s facing me. Her eyes glance at the camera behind me for a split second, before all of her attention refocuses on me.
“Shall I take off my shorts?” she asks.
“Not yet. Cup your breasts, offer them up to me.”
For the first time she doesn’t immediately do as I ask, her hands lift then fall back down twice while I wait unmoving for her to obey. When she does, I smile a barely there smile, leaning forward and capturing one of her nipples between my lips.
I suck hard, loving the gasp it pulls from her lips as I lave at her sensitive tip, alternating between sucking, licking, and nipping, as her breaths become pants and moans and gasps. Her back arches and she pushes herself closer to me, desperate for more. I pull back, enjoying the way her pupils dilate and her eyes become wild and feral, and perfectly out of control.
“Don’t stop,” she gasps, reaching for my hair and trying to pull me closer.
“Stop, hands by your sides,” I snarl, my dick hardening further when her hands fall obediently from my hair. I know that in this moment she’s confused and frustrated and probably a little angry, and I love it. I want her out of control, I want her desperate and she’s close, but not close enough, nowhere near close enough.
But she will be.
Leaning forward, I pull her other nipple into my mouth. She mewls and I’m not sure if it’s relief or need, but I don’t care. I tease her, taunting her until her fingers are on my head practically ripping my hair out at the roots as she pulls and yanks trying to force me closer.
“Lie back,” I tell her, smiling at her glazed expression. She unfurls like a lazy cat, draping herself back against the pillows; a femme fatale sent to seduce me. I follow her back, pressing kisses against her stomach as I work my way down her body, until my lips are pressed against her pussy through the two layers of clothes that are still covering her.
“I can smell you,” I growl, inhaling deeply and scenting her desire, the smell intoxicating. “You want me.”
Unbuttoning her shorts, I pull the zipper down exposing her matching pink panties that look so fucking enticing on her, I already plan to steal them as soon as I peel them from her body. Pulling her shorts free, I leave her panties in place so I can see the way she looks spread out for me, just for me.
She lifts her butt without me having to ask and I pull the shorts over her feet and throw them to the floor, not caring where they land.
Placing my palms on the insides of her thighs I roughly part her legs. Her gasp is loud and I smile even wider, loving that I’ve shocked her, that she’s off balance. “You good?” I ask, needing her compliance and to know she’s still with me.
“Yes,” she rasps, her voice rough.
Burying my face between her legs I inhale deeply, my thumbs pressing into her thighs as she instinctively tries to close her legs. I can feel her watching me, her fingers twisting the fabric beneath her as she fights to stay still, shy but not wanting me to stop. Lifting my head, I watch her as I slide my hand up over her mound and curl my fingers into the waistband of her panties.
Her eyes widen and she exhales sharply as I kneel up between her legs, pushing her thighs together as I drag her panties down, revealing her pussy inch by inch. “No,” I snap, when her hands move to cover herself.
“I—” she starts.
“Hands by your sides,” I order, stifling my groan when her clenched fists fall down to the bed.
Lifting her legs up, I bend her knees so I can pull the panties free of her feet, shoving them into my back pocket as a memento of today.
She’s completely naked, vulnerable to my gaze, panting for breath, her eyes still wide, her hair a mess spread haphazardly across the pillows behind her. She looks the most free she’s ever looked and my dick is so hard a soft wind could tip me over the edge and have me coming in my pants.
“Part your legs, let me see,” I demand, my eyes narrowed on the space between her legs, hair free, like I knew it would be and for today at least, all mine.
“Priss,” I demand, my voice hard when she doesn’t do as I ask.
She inhales sharply then spreads her legs wide, no hesitation, like she made the decision and then acted once she had.
Her eyes move to the camera, the one I’d forgotten was even there and I move forward blocking her cunt from view. That’s for me, only me, and if I could I’d delete the footage where she shared herself bare, even though hopefully nobody but us will ever know the footage even exists.
“I’m sorry, I forgot about the camera,” I say earnestly, looking her in the eyes.
“It’s okay, I kind of forgot too,” she admits, her voice softer now that some of the lust in her has dissolved.
“It’s not okay, so now you get to choose. Do you want me to make you come with my fingers or tongue first?”
“First?” she chokes.
“I’m going to make you come over and over Priss,” I tell her, rubbing my thumb in circles over the soft skin at the top of her thigh.
“But why? You don’t even like me.”
“It doesn’t matter how I feel about you. You asked me to do this and I am. I told you it would be my way, that I was in control and this is how I plan to do it. I want to own you. Until this is over I want your soul to belong to me. I don’t want you to even think unless I’ve told you to do it. I want you mindless, boneless, and consumed. I want to hear my nam
e fall from your lips and have it be the only thing you know how to say, because the only thing that exists to you is me.”
Her lips part and a ragged gasp is the only sound she makes.
“Is that what you want? If it’s not we can stop this now, but if you do, if you want to fall down this rabbit hole with me, if you want to give yourself over to me until this is done, then say yes. I need to hear the word.”
“Yes,” she says, and a single tear rolls down her cheek.
I can’t help myself, I lean down and lick the tear from her skin, because it’s mine, all of her is. “Fingers or tongue, or do you want me to decide?”
“You decide, I... I don’t... You decide,” she mumbles, her words rushed.
I chuckle, I can’t help it. “Put your heels on the bed and hold your knees back.”
She does exactly as I ask and I dive in, licking at her clit while she almost jumps off the bed, her back arching as she lets out a shocked mewl that makes my dick ache. I eat her, lapping up her taste as I slide a single finger into her sex, loving how tight she is.
She’s wet, her body excited and I preen that she’s so aroused for me, as I suck on her clit. I wind her body up, touching her, listening to the way her breath increases, the tiny moans she makes as I hit that spot inside of her that makes liquid heat roll down my hand, coating me in her arousal.
Her first orgasm comes out of nowhere and she screams out in pleasure, her cunt tightening around my fingers as I smile against her sex. Not stopping I slide in a second finger, stretching her as I flick my tongue faster, not giving her body a chance to relax before she’s hurtling toward a second orgasm. This time her entire body arches, her muscles tense as she cries my name, her voice ragged and fucking perfect.
“Carson,” she cries again, her muscles twitching as wave upon wave of pleasure courses through her.
“One more Priss, then I’m going to fuck you, but I need to watch you come once more,” I tell her, my own voice nothing more than a rasp as I move upwards. My fingers are sliding in and out of her pussy and I carefully add a third finger, stretching her. She’s so wet that my hand is coated in her arousal and her scent has consumed the room, my mouth filled with the taste of her sweetness. Taking one of her nipples between my lips I suck and bite, rubbing my thumb over her clit as I fuck her with my fingers.