Not ownership. I don’t want to own my sister. That’s not why I’m doing this, goddamn it.
I grit my teeth and pull out of Tiffany’s mouth. She sucks in a ragged breath, then sticks her tongue out, eager for my cum as I stroke my cock. Mascara-stained tears track down her cheeks, and hurt reflects in her eyes.
I didn’t go easy on her. She’s probably not used to being treated this way.
For a moment, I feel sorry for her. Even regret it a little bit because she got pulled into this mess so I could teach my little sister a lesson. Then I meet Madison’s stare right as I come, and any sympathy I had toward Tiffany goes out the window. I growl and fist Tiffany’s hair, yanking her head closer as cum jets out in pulses.
Run, little sister. Stay far away from me.
Madison’s chest rises and falls faster with heavy breaths. The hurt in her eyes shifted into something else when I wasn’tpaying attention. Her thighs squeeze together and her hard nipples poke against her thin T-shirt.
Goddamn it. Madison’s turned on. This isn’t what I intended, and now that I know she’s enjoying it, I want to spank her all over again. My lips flatten, and I turn back to Tiffany as the last of my load lands on her cheek. I suck in ragged breaths and release my throbbing member.
Tiffany hums in approval and scoops the cum off her cheek, then pops it into her mouth. She keeps her gaze steady on my face and shakily smiles. It’s all an act to feed into my ego. She dislikes confrontation, preferring to fawn rather than run from the danger.
“My turn.” Her voice comes out rough and with a tremor. I mean, it’s a given after I just used her like a Fleshlight.
I fix my sweats and step away from her. “No.”
Her face falls. “What do you mean,no?”
I check the doorway, expecting Madison to still be there. It’s empty, with no sign of my little sister. I frown and shove the disappointment below the surface.
Tiffany huffs and clambers to her feet. She struggles to find her balance, and I don’t move to help her. The thought of touching her any more than I already did makes my skin crawl.
“So that’s it?” Tiffany growls. “I don’t get to come after you were rough with me? I sucked your dick!”
I keep my expression blank. “I know. I was there.”
She smooths the wrinkles in her pants and shirt. “Whatever. Lose my number.”
I don’t bother moving out of the way as she stomps past me and flings the door open. It slams behind her, and I’m left alone in my bedroom, surrounded by bad memories. What’s one more?
My bed calls my name, promising sleep after I didn’t get any last night. Instead of crashing, I change my clothes and slip onmy boots. I’d rather go for a joyride than be here. If I get in a wreck and die because of exhaustion, I don’t care.
“PUKE” EMINEM
Justin and I sit at a table in a five-star restaurant he picked out for our brunch date. I would have preferred eating at Susana’s, but mylovelyfiancé sneers at “poor” people.
If I stab myself in the ear with this knife, would I die immediately or would I just damage my eardrum? I guess it might be up to how hard I stab myself. I don’t think I could plunge the knife deep enough to kill myself. The pain would stop me from ending my life.
Besides, what the fuck kind of death is that? Shooting myself would be easier, but I don’t have a gun.
I don’t want to die, but I feel so trapped. I’m suffocating. The money I’m saving isn’t building up fast enough. My dad wants nothing to do with me. The only thing he cares about is my looming marriage to Justin. It’s all he talks about when he spares me attention.
My life is out of control.Ihave no control.
Justin finishes texting whoever he’s been talking to for the past fifteen minutes. He locks his phone and sets it face down on the table, then turns his full attention to me. I shudder at the coldness in his eyes and how he looks at me like I’m an object and not a person.
“Isn’t this wonderful?” He relaxes in his seat while fixing the cuffs of his business jacket. When he can’t straighten them anymore, he moves on to pluck invisible lint off his arms.
I cast a disinterested eye around the room and sip my mimosa. The alcohol is helping with the anxiety and thoughts of harming myself, but it’s still not enough. If I had it my way, I’d drink until I’m on the floor.
Justin frowns and folds his arms over his chest, his index finger tapping his bicep. “I bought you a ten-grand diamond ring. Spoil you with new clothes every week. I lavish you with expensive meals and drinks.”
I down the rest of my mimosa and set the empty glass on the table. My focus lingers on the cup. “Where are you going with this?”
“Glad you asked.” Justin’s smile lacks amusement and is more sarcastic. “I do these things and more, and yet you’re still ungrateful. You treat me like a stranger.”
