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)
“Good girl. Now, which of your holes do you want me to use with my cock?”
I answer the way I know he’ll want me to.
“You choose.”
“Fuck yes, that’s my princess.”
I’m so drunk I can barely think straight as Ant rolls me onto my front, grips my hips and fucks my ass, cursing as he slams me. He pins me flat and bites my shoulder from behind, taking the very last of me for himself.
It hurts. It really, really hurts. But I don’t ask him to stop, and I don’t want him to. I just want to give him what he needs. He comes so hard he’s breathless, and that’s all the reward I could ever want.
I can hardly move, but I don’t need to. He lifts me up and guides me to my feet, helping me out onto the landing and through to the bathroom, supporting me when I wince with every step.
“Sit down and pee,” he tells me, and it hurts when I do. I let little jets of piss out, whimpering every time until I give in and let the stream run. Spurts of cum dribble from my pussy and my ass slops as it drains, and it would seem gross if Ant wasn’t smiling at me so proudly. He wipes me clean, giving me another shh, baby as I flinch.
“You need to sober up,” he says, and I nod, but I don’t want to. It’s only going to hurt more when I do.
I’m in so much of a drunken blur that I don’t know I’m retching until I’m positioned over the toilet bowl with Ant pulling my hair from my face.
“Jeez, baby, that’s too much champagne. Next time we’ll take that more steady, I think.”
It’s not just champagne I’m retching up though, it’s cum. Thick, white cum mixed with De Chante.
Fuck, it’s dirty, and fuck, I’m glad I downed the rest of that bottle when I did.
Ant wraps me in a robe when I’m finished over the toilet bowl, and I’m grateful when he opts to lift me up and carry me downstairs. He sits me on one of the barstools and places a plate in front of me. I see two slices of bread.
“Eat them,” he says. “They’ll help sober you up.”
I pull pieces off and force myself to chew on them, not giving a toss what they taste like. I chew and swallow, chew and swallow, then drink down some mineral water Ant gives me, hoping I don’t bring the whole lot of it straight back up again.
Unfortunately, I do. I race to the downstairs bathroom and retch it back up, a part of me hating myself down deep.
Hating myself.
But why?
He presents me with more mineral water as soon as I’m up from the toilet bowl.
It’s more bread when we’re back through to the kitchen, and this time I manage to keep it down.
“I hope you realise just how good you were up there,” he says. “Honestly, baby, you were an absolute goddess. But you need less champagne. It’ll make you ill, and you don’t need it. You were made for this.”
I feel like a battered, bruised piece of meat, not a goddess, but I believe his words more than I believe my own body.
I give him a smile. “Thanks.”
“You know what goddesses get?” he asks me, and I shrug, because no, I don’t.
Another box comes out of a kitchen drawer, and this time it’s a black one. It’s a bracelet sparkling up at me when I open it, and it’s a huge one. Really huge. A cuff of deep green jewels and sparkling stones – as beautiful as the necklace I’ve been wearing all week.
Ant fastens it up for me, and I get a bizarre spring of tears, not quite sure what the hell is happening to me. Does this feel nice? Do I feel proud? Is this what being a good girl feels like – to have a beautiful bracelet on your wrist after taking cock for hours on end?
I guess that yes, it is what a good girl feels like.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Yes, it is,” he says. “It’ll cover up that trashy, piece of shit tattoo on your wrist.”
His words hit me through the drunken haze, because I’m not sure I want to cover up that tattoo, because even though it’s about Jack it still feels like part of me… part of my life…
Ant breaks me from my thoughts. He leans across the counter to stroke my cheek. “Baby, listen to me. You just proved you mean what you say. You really are a slut who likes it, aren’t you?”
I’m still staring at the sparkle of the bracelet when I nod.
“Yeah, I guess am.”
“There’s no guessing about it, princess. You proved yourself tonight. For real.”
“Thanks,” I say, gulping down more mineral water.