Sweet Girl by Quell T. Fox
Charlotte
It’slatewhenIgetbacktocampus,thedormsarestillmostlyempty,Ibarelyhearasound.Therearen’tmanykidswhostaybehindduringthesummer.Andeveniftheydo,theywon’tbehere.Likelychoosingtospendthehotsummernightsbythebeach.
I wave to Jorge, the night guard, as I enter my building. I go to the elevator and hit the button. The lights above the door flash as it descends to the ground floor. It pauses on the second floor before it goes back up. I groan at having to wait even longer for this stupid elevator. There really should be more than one.
I am tired and exhausted. My body aches from sitting down for so long. When I left this morning, I was not expecting to spend the entire day in the airport.
I knew there’d be a small wait, but six hours is a little much. I had nothing to do, so I sat around and napped, waiting until my flight was ready to board.
Finally the elevator reaches the ground floor and dings, the doors sliding open. I step onto it, pressing the button for the fourth floor.
I pull the key out of my pocket and let myself into my room.
It’s pitch black and I can’t see a thing, so I keep the door open. We didn’t leave any lights on and Izzy won’t be back until the start of school. The dorm rooms here aren’t very big. It fits both of our twin sized beds comfortably, along with our desks and a dresser each. There are two small closets that are stuffed to the max with clothes, shoes and boxes we’ve still yet to unpack. Two small windows are against the far wall with the shades pulled down, both with a sheer, light blue curtain.
I’m just now realizing how sad our room looks. It lacks any personalization. Neither of us taking—or having—the time to make it our own. Thinking back to my mother’s house I’m hit with a pang of sadness. I hadn’t known how much I wanted to be there until I went back. Hell, until right now. That house holds memories. And she’s getting rid of it. Selling it without a second thought. Like it doesn’t even matter.
I drop my bags onto the bed and flip on the light. But when I turn around to shut the door my heart practically jumps out of my chest.
“What are you doing here?” I ask in a whisper, looking to the hallway, my hand placed over my chest. There are not supposed to be visitors at this time. How long has he been waiting in my room? And how the hell did he get in here?
Jonathan gets to his feet, having been sitting on Izzy’s bed, and strides towards me with slow, sure steps. He pauses to shut the door before turning towards me. Dark grey slacks, a white button up… the man is delicious.
“You ran away from me, sweet girl.” He reaches his hand out to cup my cheek. “I can’t let you get away with that.”
His hand slides down the column of my neck slowly. I could get away from him, but I don’t. I choose to stay and see what he has to offer. His fingers squeeze around my throat, and I can barely breathe. He gets close to my face. “I told you that you were mine. I told you that you would be punished for any transgressions. Did you think leaving me would change that?” He squeezes tighter as I fight for air, my hands clawing at his wrist. “Did you?”
I try to shake my head since I can’t speak. This should frighten me, right? This man somehow managed to get here before I did, got past security, ended up in my room, and is now choking me.
But fuck, my panties are so wet.
He brings his lips to my ear. “Get. On. The. Bed.” He pushes me with the hand that’s against my throat, releasing me, but I catch myself so I don’t fall. He takes a step closer. “Now,” he growls. I take a step back and sit on my bed, looking up at him. He gets down on his knees, face to face with me. “Oh, Charlotte, we’re done with the games, got it? When I say get on the bed,” he grips my hips and spins me so I’m now facing the bed, palms flat on the mattress with my feet on the floor. My wounded hand stings but I do my best to not put weight on it. “I mean ass up.” His arm slides around my waist, hoisting me up the rest of the way as if I weigh mere pounds.
His hands slide down my hips and over the curve of my ass.
“So fucking beautiful.” He says the words slowly. “I’m going to take this pussy now, Charlotte. Because it’s mine. It belongs to me. The games are done, it’s time for the real fun. Got it?”
I don’t say anything and I expect him to chastise me for it. I’m panting and my heart is thundering.
He yanks my leggings and panties down, my bare ass now on full display for him.
“This perfect fucking ass… yes, this will be mine too.” After what feels like forever, he’s dragging a finger along the top of my ass crack and then down the center. “Maybe not tonight, but it will be. Have you ever given someone your ass before, Charlotte? You better hope I like the answer.”
I pull in air quickly, feeling dizzy at how worked up I am.
“Yes.” I say it quietly, almost ashamed.
“Sweet girl…”
Crack.
The slap of his hand against my ass is so sharp that I’m sure they heard it all the way downstairs in the lobby. I bite down on the bed, trying to keep myself quiet.
“That just won’t do.”
Crack.
He does it again and it fucking stings, but I’m so wet it’s dripping down my thighs. His finger drags up the inside of my thigh, running along the wet drips, smearing them into my skin. He brings his now wet finger to my clit, over my pussy, and rests it on the other hole. The one he is so angry about. I’m aching and needy.
“I’ll just have to make sure I take them all. How does that sound?”
“G-good.”
“Not tonight, though. No, I don’t want to rush it. Tonight, this pussy will be mine. The rest will wait.”
The blood rushes through my body, my veins pumping with adrenaline as I wait for him to do something. I cry out when he slaps my ass again, tears burning in my eyes. Fuck, it hurts but it feels so good.
“You’re going to take my cock in this tight pussy. You’re going to come all over it, and I’m going to erase every memory you have of other men. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I say as he slides a finger over my slit, brushing against it slightly. His other hand is still resting on my ass, his finger dancing around the hole.
“After tonight, Charlotte, it’s just us. Just you and me. No more Michael, no more other boys from school. No more Mom.” I shiver at his words. He leans over my back, his warm body pressed against mine, his hot thickness pressing against me. His hand slides around my neck slowly as he grips my chin and pulls it up. He whispers in my ear, “But I expect you to call me Daddy still.”
He pulls back, tugging my shirt up but not removing it. His fingers trail down my spine, and rest on my hip. The sound of his zipper being undone has me clenching, needing to feel him. I wait for more clues of him getting undressed but there are none. Soon enough, he’s at my entrance, the head of his thick cock pushing forward. He pulls away and I groan at the loss, my fingers digging into the blankets furiously and I’m met with a sharp ache as I remember my hand is still healing, but I ignore it. His husky laugh fills the air. I want to yell and swear at him. I want him to leave, but more, I want him to stay. I want him to do everything he’s said. I want him to fuck me so good that nothing and no one else matters.
“Tell me this is all a game and I’ll leave right now. Walk out this door and never talk to you again.”
I can’t do that because I’d be lying. I don’t want to lie to him.
“Say it, Charlotte. This is your final chance. I’ll leave if you tell me to.”
“No,” I say quietly.
“Then tell me, sweet girl,” he says softly. “I want to hear the words leave those perfect lips. Tell me and I will give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.” He leans forward pressing gentle kisses along my spine, brushing his thumb along them as he goes.
I push back the tears, believing every word he is saying to me. I know he would do anything and everything for me. I saw it every time he looked at me, but I especially saw it that night in the hospital. This has never been just a game with us. Never. I should have accepted it sooner. I didn’t want to accept it, so I ignored it.
“This isn’t a game to me. Not anymore.” I say the words he wants to hear. I want to say more, spill my entire heart out to him but now isn’t the time.
“No, baby.” He lines up again, his cock pressing at my entrance. He slides in so slowly, filling me up and fuck does it feel perfect. He is perfect. “It’s never been just a game.”