I'm still the victim who pushed through the self-hatred and blame and became a better person.
Nox does not define me. Parker Miller does not define me. What he did to me does not define me.
"Beg me," he whispers in my ear. "Beg me to fuck your untouched cunt... And don't you dare fucking scream."
His palm leaves my mouth and I rasp, trying to get some fresh air into my lungs. But his impatient gaze tells me he won't wait for those words forever, his hand still lingering on the pillow, ready to cut off my air supply again at any moment.
"I-I-I..." I struggle to speak, tripping over the simple word, swallowing, blinking fast. "I... I want you to..."
"You want me to what, Dove?" He taunts me, mesmerizingly close to me, his lips a breath away from mine. I pray he'll kiss me. Everything else is forgotten, all those bridges burned. Nothing matters but Nox's lips on mine. Taking what's been his all along. "Speak up, be a good girl for me. Don't fucking disappoint me."
"I want you to –" I choke on the words, struggling to catch my breath. "I want you to fuck me, Nox..."
With a growl, he climbs onto the bed and positions himself between my legs. My heart is still pounding, my mind unwilling to accept this isn't just a dream. I pinch myself, and it fucking hurts. This is real. Nox is real. We are real. This is happening.
He slides my panties down my legs. I notice he's only wearing boxers, and he slides them off with lightning speed. My eyes widen at the sight of his cock. I want him. I remember him. How could I ever forget my first cock... my only cock...
He grabs hold of my knees and lifts my legs apart, smirking at what he sees. I can feel how wet I am, and when he leans in close and spits on me, all I can do is gasp for him. He pushes my legs back, positions his cock at my entrance. My heart pounds. Our eyes meet. He laughs at me as he presses his cockhead in the wetness pooling at my center. Laughs as he rubs his spit into me. "You really want it, Dove? Really?"
"Really," I whisper. "Really, really, really, really..."
"I don't believe you," he mutters. "Keep fucking begging."
But he doesn't make it easy on me. He keeps on rubbing the tip of his cock into my pussy, grinding me so much it's almost fucking painful, the denial he's putting me through. I find myself babbling, eager to get more, eager for him, for the love only he can give me.
"Please, Nox, please, fucking please, fuck me, all I want is you, all I ever wanted is you... Take it, it's your pussy, they're your holes. I spent all this time waiting for you. I wanted you... I always wanted you... Don't take this away from me, Nox, please, I'm begging you, please, fucking please, I need you..."
"So, you remember how to beg after all," he smirks. "Good to fucking know... I'm not going to fuck you tonight."
A gasp rips itself from my lips and my bottom lip wobbles in frustration.
"Make your peace with that now, little Dove. But I'm going to make it fucking unbearable for you. I'll make my pussy so damn desperate it'll be weeping, leaking at the sight of me. And you'll beg for everything I want to do to you. Every. Single. Fucking. Thing. Got that?"
"Yes," I manage.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes..."
"Focus," he smirks at me. "Be respectful. If you're not, I'm going to hurt you. What do you call me when we play?"
I remember everything I know about him, thinking hard about the answer he wants. I mewl in frustration, afraid of his reaction because I don't know the answer. But he doesn't seem angry. His palm finds my cheek and he gently runs his fingers over my scar. I close my eyes, anticipating a slap that never comes.
"You call me Sir, Dove. When we play, you call me Sir. Now say it. Say yes, Sir."
"Yes... S-Sir," I whisper.
"Say it again. I fucking like it."
"Please, S-Sir," I croak. "Please. Please. My pussy needs you. Fuck me. Fuck me, please, Sir."
"What did I tell you, Dove? You're not getting fucked tonight. Beg for other things. Things you might actually get."
"Cum." My voice is shaky as fuck and it's embarrassing. "I want your cum, Sir."
He smirks at me from between my still-raised legs, my pussy pouting at him. "You don't want to come yourself?" He presses his hard cock against my clit and it’s enough to make me shudder and squirm.
"I don't care," I whisper. "You decide, j-just let m-me have yours... Please... Please, Sir."
"Good girl." He groans, rubbing his cock over my pussy. I feel him leaking, the precum sticking to my pussy, running between my legs. I'm so turned on I could scream, but I force my lips to stay pressed together. "Keep begging, Dove..."