Breaking Meredith (Disciples 4)

I begin to twist, fighting his grip on my hair, but it only causes his hold to tighten.

His hand slips between my thighs and my entire body jolts as his fingers touch my slick lips.

Just as suddenly as he touched me, his hand jerks back as if he’s surprised.

His mouth tears away from my mouth and he growls, “Where are your panties, Meredith?”

Heartbeat in my throat, I try to regain some of my composure by giving him a smart-assed answer. “I don’t know. They’re around here, somewhere, Simon…”

“Around here, somewhere?” he repeats, as if it doesn’t make sense to him.

His confusion though doesn’t stop him from shoving his hand between my thighs again. His fingers find my folds. Pushing through them, exploring them.

I have to bite my lip and press my ass into the bed to keep from crying out as they brush against my clit.

“Have you done something malicious with them, brat?” he asks.

When I don’t immediately answer him, he pulls on my hair.

“Of course not…” I gasp.

His fingers suddenly press down on my clit and I can’t stop the jerk of my hips. “I don’t believe you.”

“Fuck,” I groan as he begins to rub against my sensitive little bundle of nerves in tight little circles.

“Can’t… a girl… get sick of wearing… dirty underwear…” I pant out as I try to fight back the liquid heat that’s flooding my core.

“I suppose so…” he draws out as his fingers move faster. Pushing me closer and closer to the edge of losing complete control.

Sinking my teeth back into my lip, it takes every ounce of resistance I have left to keep from thrusting my hips up. To keep from chasing his fingers and the orgasm he’s offering me.

Rubbing and working my clit as if he knows just how I want it, just how I like it, he drives me higher and higher against my will.

And just when I’m there, reaching an orgasm I didn’t want but suddenly need, he pulls his fingers away.

Yanking his hand free of my hair, my head hits the bed as he reaches for my shirt. Before I can stop him, he’s grabbing it and splitting it open. The fabric spreads open so fast the buttons pop off like a chain reaction.

“Yet, you’re still wearing your bra…”

I stare up at him, trembling from the loss of my release, and the only thing I can think to say, the only word that comes to mind is, “So?”

Where is he going with this? Why the fuck does he even care?

“So?” he repeats and then his hands move to the little thin strip of material that holds the cups of my bra together.

“So?” he repeats more angrily as he grabs the connector and yanks his hands apart.

The material snaps and my breasts spill out.

“You keep trying to play me, Meredith, like I don’t know you. Like I haven’t been watching you.”

Simon stares down at my breasts with a dark gleam in his eyes, and for once in my life I feel utterly and completely vulnerable. Once again, I’m exposed and at his mercy. Yet somehow this is worse, so much worse, than when he had me draped over his lap with my ass in the air.

He looms above me. Confidant now that he has me right where he wants me. And I feel like prey pinned beneath a hungry predator.

I try to cover my breasts with my hands, shielding myself from him, but he just reaches down and pries them apart.

“Three months, Simon. You’ve only known me for three fucking months. Don’t even try to pretend you have me all figured out. You don’t know shit about me,” I snarl up at him as he slams my fists into the mattress.

I’m pissed because despite how much I try to fight him, how much I try to resist him, he keeps overpowering me. And, of course, because he got me all hot and bothered and didn’t finish the job.

My clit throbs, swollen and achy. Pulsing a heady need deep in my belly I can’t turn off.

“Oh, it’s been much longer than three months, Meredith,” he says, his head dipping down. His mouth dangerously close to the tip of my nipple.

“Fine,” I say softly, afraid to take a deep breath. Afraid of closing that last little distance between my breast and his lips. “You’ve been watching me for a little longer. So what? You still don’t know me. I swear, you don’t have a fucking clue.”

“Try years…” He draws out, his warm breath caressing my breast. My nipple instantly tingles and tightens into a hard little point.

This is fucking torture, and it’s obvious now that he’s just fucking toying with me. He has to be. There’s no way he’s been watching me for years. No way. I would have known…

“I don’t believe you,” I hiss and try to jerk my hands up.