Total pages in book: 221
Estimated words: 213317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1067(@200wpm)___ 853(@250wpm)___ 711(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 213317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1067(@200wpm)___ 853(@250wpm)___ 711(@300wpm)
He must see my fists clench, but he writes it off as nothing.
“Jesus,” he laughs. “Seriously, Ger, if you want to get on your high horse, go check them out one by fucking one. I’ll give you a copy of their CVs if you want? Want to give them an interview?”
“Stop it, Ant,” I reply, hackles still up, but he rolls his eyes.
“You’re the one who’s got to stop it. This isn’t G.A.T.A. for fuck sake. It’s my fiancée wanting to get her pussy fucked.” He laughs his dirty laugh. “As well as the rest of her slutty holes.”
He’s pushing me. I see it in his eyes. He wants me to storm in there and make a tit of myself so he can goad me about it for years. And hold it over me.
Here it comes. I knew it would.
“Unless this is about something else?” he says, with the suspicious look I’ve seen so many times before.
“What else?” I reply, even though I know full well.
“Just thought you might be overly interested in what I’m doing with my fiancée. Any reason for that? Are you after a go yourself?”
I scoff at him. “No, Ant.”
“It’s alright. I wouldn’t blame you if you did. You’d be an idiot if you didn’t want to be in there with the rest of them. Fancy a front row seat?”
I pull a face, scoffing again. “No, thank you.”
He laughs at me. “Fine, excellent. Best get this door shut, then, or you might hear the filthy soundtrack.”
I definitely don’t want to hear the filthy soundtrack, so I close the door in his face while he’s still laughing. Off he goes, to the mattress room, and no, I don’t want to hear the filthy soundtrack. I don’t want to hear anything. The crowd in there can like it all they want, but I won’t – not with those disrespectful pricks using Cass like that.
I get back onto my bed with my laptop, staring at the screen like a dumbass as my thoughts tumble.
Fuck this shit.
All I can think about is what the hell might be going on in there. So fuck this shit, again.
I open my bedroom door and listen out for sounds of chaos, but there aren’t any.
I’m being paranoid.
I’m a tit if I think I can sit at my laptop like nothing’s happening. I’m also being a tit if I think for a second that Ant would be out of control in this situation. That’s one thing to be certain of, at least. Ant knows exactly what’s going on in there. He will know what Cass likes and what she doesn’t. He will know who’s in there and what they’re going to be doing to her, and whether she’s enjoying it along with him.
He loves her.
He adores her.
He knows she’s the incredible woman she is.
Just like I do.
Cass
I try telling myself that I want the men walking through the door, but it doesn’t work. The four guys in suits are nothing but a blur of strangers with their dicks in their hands.
Still, I hitch my legs up and work my clit, just like Ant tells me to.
“Who wants to use her filthy cunt first?” he asks the crowd.
“Me,” one of the guys says with a laugh.
He has dark hair, and a trimmed beard, and is clean and neat and smells of expensive cologne, but I’m really damn glad I drank as much De Chante as I did.
It feels so different tonight. Ant seems different tonight, his smirk more intense than usual.
The whole mood feels off, and Ant’s gaze of pure lust isn’t enough to get me in the mood. The guy positioning himself between my legs is just a guy in a suit with his dick out. One random stranger out of four.
He strokes my pussy in a nice enough way that I close my eyes and try to focus on that. He uses his fingers first, three straight in, but it’s pointless. I’m not in the zone at all.
“Tell him how much you like it, then,” Ant tells me, and I smile, pretending like a fake.
“Yeah, I like that… I really like it…”
Ant doesn’t buy into fake, though.
“Louder than that, baby. Really mean it,” he says. “Show him how grateful you are.”
Grateful? For what? For a guy’s useless fingers in my pussy? Sorry, cunt.
It’s amazing how quickly you can adjust to circumstances. I’m getting used to this slutty kind of spectacle, and I’m drunk enough that it’s not all that much of a shocker when the guy between my legs lines himself up and thrusts inside. And it feels pointless… worthless.
I turn to the one thing that might blow my doubts away. I look up at Ant for the glow of pride on his face. But it’s not there.
“I mean it, baby,” he repeats. “Show this whole fucking room how needy you are for cock, or they won’t be giving it to you. Don’t want to miss out on that, do you, sweetheart?”