by Nora Flite
Chuckling in the back of my throat, I twirled a finger. “Face the tablet, face down, ass up.”
My blunt instruction made her mouth drop open. Her feet crossed demurely over each other, that delicious ass of hers exposed. But nothing could distract me from the sight of her pretty little cunt.
Every plan I had vanished.
“Ah!” she gasped when I crouched behind her. Holding her still, I peeled her pussy wide and licked her from bottom to top. The sight of her bending over for me so eagerly, so willingly, had fogged my brain into mush.
I was a wild beast. I needed to taste her salty-sweetness. I longed to roll my tongue on her firm clit until she screamed my name. Messy, desperate, I lapped at her cunt and her asshole because a good man never ignores any part of his woman. My teeth grazed her skin lightly. “Fucking hell, I could eat you out for days, Georgia. You taste so damn good.”
The springs squeaked. She'd bit the material, muffling her sounds.
“No,” I purred, sitting up, cupping her jaw. “Don't you dare try and stay quiet. The music you make belongs to me, understand?”
Her periwinkle-blue eyes went a shade darker. Her voice was thick with arousal. “Yes, I understand.”
Shivering, I ran my knuckle down her cheek. My thumb perched on her bottom lip, sliding over her teeth. “Suck it.”
Locking her stare on mine, she wrapped her lips around my thumb and suckled like it was my cock. Her pink lips were glossy, plush. I wanted to kiss them. I was eager to feel them sliding on my shaft and balls.
Groaning, I clenched my teeth and laughed. “You're too damn good.” I shook myself, regaining my composure. Reaching into the bag on the floor, I withdrew a small bottle. A long string of clear lube extended between it and her naked asshole. She jumped—I chuckled. “This will help,” I assured her. “I'm going to fuck this ass raw. But I don't want to split you in two. This is about pleasure, not pain.”
“It won't hurt?” she asked, looking up at me imploringly.
“Not after I warm you up.” With my fingertips, I rubbed the slippery lubricant over her sensitive skin. Georgia bucked, inhaling sharply. “I'll get you used to being stretched out before my cock even touches you.”
I reached over and turned on the tablet. The sound of Georgia panting obscenely erupted from the speakers. “Please,” she moaned in the video. I'd uploaded one of the tapes of her onto the device.
She froze on the mattress, staring at herself on the screen. “What's this?”
“A reminder of what you're capable of.”
Her eyes narrowed dubiously. Then, like she was telling herself something that gave her courage, she nodded. Her breasts plumped up like pillows on her folded arms. The need that was burning in her eyes was reflected in my own.
I couldn't handle how stiff my cock was getting. Quickly, I unzipped my pants. Georgia watched in fascination as my length arched into the air. Pumping myself, I groaned. “Let's keep going. I want to see what your ass can take.”
She hadn't stopped staring at my thick dick. “I'm not... Conway, that won't fit.”
Her fear lit me up. “It will. They were made for each other.”
Crouching behind her, I squeezed her ass-cheeks. Georgia obediently watched herself in the video. In it, she was kneeling on the floor, drooling as I made her orgasm with the vibrator. It had been her first session with me.
Had it made her understand what I was capable of?
My thumb scraped over her crinkled entrance. Reaching beneath, I lifted her hips higher. I wanted access to her clit. Perfectly in sync, I rubbed both it and her asshole. “Fuck, you love that,” I noted as she rocked against me.
Pushing my thumb into her ass, plunging in and out, I made circles. She was panting like an animal. I kept pushing, working her ring of muscle until I finally slid my finger out.
Her asshole gaped in front of me. She mewled for more, the thrill of her arousal making me feel drunk. “You're desperate to be filled,” I said, almost in amazement. Somewhere between being forced to do this and agreeing to go along with it all in the name of the greater good, we'd both gotten lost.
I wanted this.
And she wanted it even more.
Running my palm along my shaft, I gripped her ass-cheek for leverage. I soaked my cock in more lube, jerking myself in fast strokes. I was losing control but I kept up my facade. I was strong enough to take her in any hole, any way that I wanted, without her say so.
But this wasn't about force.
I needed her to crave my cock. Georgia had to become the perfect slut for me and me alone. No, for my father. Right. It was easy to forget when I had her silky skin pressing against my own.
“Conway,” she whimpered. My name on her lips was addictive. I wanted to slice open my veins and pour her voice straight in. “Please, fuck me, I'm ready.”
“Are you?” Grinding her clit with my fingers, I bent near her ear. I was pushing the tip of my cock against her asshole, the pressure solid. Impending. Unstoppable. “Beg me to fuck you in the ass, Georgia. Say you're my little anal princess.”
Sweat made her perfect skin shine like diamonds. She pushed back, trying to get me inside of her. “I can't! That's so dirty.”
“Say it,” I breathed, my fingers vanishing from her swollen labia. “Or you won't come at all.”
Georgia shivered. That sensation transferred through her skin and right into my cock; my balls flexed. “I'm your anal princess. I'm your cock slut. I'm whatever you need me to be, Conway, just fuck me. I'm going crazy, I can't... fuck, I want to come.”
My eyes rolled in my skull. I was one big rush of pleasure. Clenching her hips with both hands, I guided my thick cock-head into her asshole. Under me she moaned, the noise mixing with her moans in the video.
It was a crescendo in my skull. It was the closest I'd ever get to heaven.
“Yes,” I panted. Deeper I sank, wedging my cock inside of her. The muscles in her ass suffocated my shaft. It made me dizzy, my vision swimming as I grasped what control I still had. I was close to giving up and slamming into her balls deep. She felt so damn good.
Amazingly, she closed the gap first, thrusting herself backwards. Georgia fucked herself on my rigid length with her face buried in her arms on the bed. Ravenous to feel her come while my cock was in her ass, I tweaked her clit.
I'd hardly touched her and she started to squeal. Every cell in her body flared, her skin pink and her lips curling over her teeth. She was so beautiful when she came.
Her walls milked me, tighter than her pussy could have. The sensation of her asshole fluttering over my cock was my doom. Squeezing her middle, I fucked her for a handful of solid strokes. “You're mine,” I whispered, not caring if she heard. If she even understood how much I longed for her. “I love the way you come for me. I love how your clit cries out for me. And I...” I went so quiet the camera wouldn't pick it up. “I love you.”
There was a hiccup in her moans; she looked over her shoulder at me. Then she looked at the camera in the corner. My smile was sharp. Was she scared for me, or did she trust that I knew what I could get away with?
Throwing my head back, I packed her asshole with rope after rope of my thick come. Hot tingles kept me thrusting, enduring the hypersensitivity.
We clung together on the bed long after the tablet had stopped playing the video. With a raspy hiss, I slid myself out of her. I walked over to turn off the video camera. A whip-crack of guilt erupted inside of me. If you removed all the trappings (the tablet, the toys, the depressing room) you could almost pretend Georgia and I were simple lovers - a couple having normal, sweaty fun.
I turned to face her. She saw the camera was off, and right away, her body relaxed. That, too, cut me painfully. “Are you alright?” I asked, handing her what she needed to clean up.
“Yes,” she said, her lips quirking. “I've never done that before. It was—I really liked it. Is that wrong?” she asked, suddenly acting shy.
My spent cock swelled for
her like magic. “Not wrong at all.” Standing beside her, I ran my fingers in her hair. “It's incredibly hot. Almost like you...” Like you actually want this part of me.
Fuck. Why, after she'd learned so much, did things manage to feel more complicated? Redressing hurriedly, I hoisted up my bag. “I'll be back,” I said. Stepping into the hall, I breathed deeply of the air that wasn't infected by her. I just needed a moment...a tiny break away from—her, from all of this.
The walls flickered as the tablet came to life in my hands. These things are so damn touchy, I thought, swimming with a bitter mood I was struggling to make sense of. As I started to turn it off, I stopped. The still-screen was showing the video of Georgia. The one I'd forced her to watch as I fucked her.
It was paused, but even when she wasn't moving, she was a creature of life. It taunted me; too crisp, too saturated, too real. My thumb moved of its own accord—I deleted the video.
The immediate wave of relief left me dazed. I hadn't considered erasing the videos until I'd done it just now. But I fucking had to. Not just because it was wrong for my father or brother to ever see Georgia like this, because it was wrong for anyone to.
Anyone but me.
The smoky lure of possessiveness took over—I was out the backdoor of the house, canvas bag in hand. Jogging to the slope that led to the water, I slid on the wet gravel. Sea spray burned my nose. One by one, I tossed the tapes into the water, soaking them in the salt that was sure to ruin everything.
This vision of Georgia belonged to me.
These memories were mine.
Looking down at the pile of wrecked tapes, my heart raced. I'd known I was a traitor but this was the first time I actively lashed out against my father's wishes.
A tiny voice told me this was just the beginning.
- Chapter Nineteen -
Georgia Mary King
I did everything he said.
I performed for the camera as well as the porn stars he'd made me watch. Facile's ultimate goal was for me to be his perfect little sex kitten. That I'd never talk back, never fight, no matter how he abused me.
I couldn't imagine obeying Facile.
But for Conway... it was almost too easy.
When he called me his cock-slut, I became it. I shivered, melting on him, slobbering on his shaft and eating both his come and my own. He'd rub his thumb on my lips and make me suckle it perversely. I did it with an eagerness neither of us expected.
That we couldn't ignore.
And he taped it all.
The blinking red light was a constant enemy in the room with us. Pretend it's Facile, I told myself, kneeling at Conway's feet. You said you could behave. You promised Conway that you'd do everything perfectly.
I'd said I'd give up my own dignity to save his sister. I'd meant it. In the late hours, after we were done performing, and as we lied there on my bare mattress staring into each others eyes, I wondered if he knew the truth: that I was risking my own soul to save his.
I could never tell him that.
I loved him too much.
- Chapter Twenty -
Conway
“This is a farce, and you know it.” Lonnie slammed the scissors down on the table. He'd just finished pulling out the hasty stitches he'd done on himself weeks ago.
Patiently, I moved the box I had away from his bloody threads. “She's doing exactly what Dad wants. That's good enough.”
“It's not good enough! Not one fucking bit! And what's up with those videos, hm? Why haven't you shown them to me by now?”
“The ones I recorded are corrupted,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I'll make new ones once I buy a better camera.” I had no intention of that.
“Dad is going to be pissed,” he said, his anger sliding through. I didn't see Lonnie lose his cool often. “He's seen no solid proof that you're doing anything that he's instructed.”
“Have you heard from him?” I asked, taking out my phone. “Because I haven't, not since I first arrived here with Georgia. For all we know he got shanked in prison and he's dead.”
Lonnie coiled with tension from head to toe. “He's not dead. And she's not fooling anyone. When Dad meets up with us, you know what's going to happen to her? He's going to beat the shit out of her. She can trick you, but not me, and not him. Everyone will be fucked. Including Emily.”
I didn't think—I just grabbed him by the front of his sweater and slammed him against the fridge. Breathing in great heaves through my nose, I said, “Don't talk about her. Not when you're not responsible for her life.”
His eyes trembled in their sockets, yet he smiled. “But I am. I'm very responsible. Dad said I'm the Watcher. I'm watching to make sure you make Georgia perfect for him. But you're not, so I can't stay quiet about it.” He leaned close to me. His newly healed scar shined. “If you don't crush her actual fucking spirit, this shallow, surface level game you've got her playing will put all of us in the ground.”
Letting him go, I stepped back, grabbing the box. “Let's hope for the shanked in prison thing, then. Yeah?”
His eyes burned on the back of my head as I left the room. Outside, Georgia was waiting for me on the front steps. November had created constant rain, but she wanted to be out in the open as often as I'd let her.
I didn't believe she'd run again. Not after what I'd revealed to her. Perhaps being honest was the truly selfish thing, because it had insured that Georgia finally did as she was told. But my guilt over it all was a constant weight on my chest.
The heavy rain had left massive puddles around the outside of the house. As we passed the left side, I noticed the ground there was sunken in. “I hope we don't get flooding inside,” I mumbled. “I'll ask Lonnie about it later. There was a big storm back in the spring, he said the cellar got pretty wrecked then.”
Georgia followed my eyes. “You were here in the spring?”
“Lonnie was. He's been holding up here since then, kind of like a squatter.” He'd come here to get away from the world while he figured out what to do without Dad guiding us. It was convenient that the abandoned island served as a perfect place for our current dirty work.
“It's dry today,” she said, stretching out her arms. “Maybe it'll stay like that.”
“Maybe.” We circled the island, crossing by the fence that blocked the docks, by the cliff that could snap our necks. Finally, we spread a blanket on the gravel and sat on it.
“When asked for more fresh air, I never expected a picnic,” she said, chuckling.
My smile was wry. “Happy birthday,” I said, offering her the box.
She blinked. “Sorry, did you say birthday?”
“Today is November 2nd.” Her face fell. My black guilt spread to my limbs, I became sluggish all over. Reaching for the box took too long. “You're right. I'm sorry, this was tone deaf of me.”
To her credit, she recovered and smiled. “It's fine, just... shocking. Come on, what did you get me?” She picked the present up curiously. I hadn't wrapped it, but I'd stuck a purple, shiny ribbon on top.
Examining the box, she opened it like it was full of fragile porcelain. I watched how wide her beautiful eyes were capable of getting. “I told you forever ago that I'd sneak you some cake,” I said. “I never got to. And I'm glad for that, of course, but a promise is a promise.”
Georgia gazed down at the whipped cream topping on the small slice of cake. Lonnie thought I'd left yesterday morning to get more supplies. I hadn't lied entirely; I'd just also bought a strawberry and cream cake slice from the nearest bakery.
It had been a huge risk.
I didn't regret it at all.
“Conway, how did you remember?”
I settled my hand on hers. Our pinky fingers linked together. “How could I have forgotten?”
Dipping her head, she scrubbed at her eyes with her free hand.
“Are you crying?”
“Forget it,” she laughed. Lifting her hands, she fanned herself and stared at the clouds. “It's no
thing some sugar won't fix. Let's eat this cake.”
I was torn between thinking I'd done something amazing... and something horrible. Could it really be both? We ate in silence, the air around us shifting into something easier to manage. It was almost joyous, but it never quite tipped there.
She plucked the purple ribbon off of the box and wrapped it around her wrist. “Can I keep this?”
My eyebrows lowered. “I don't care. But once Dad arrives, I can't guarantee anything.” Thinking about the future made me sick.
Her eyes were glistening. I expected her to cry again, but she didn't. “I know. Just for now.”
“For now,” I whispered, brushing the curling ribbon.
****
Lonnie was still in the kitchen when we went inside.
“Go on,” I said to Georgia, waving her down the hallway. She hesitated, eyeing my brother, before she darted out of view. When she was gone, I looked back at him. “You want something. What is it?”
He pushed his phone towards me. I expected there to be a message from our father, but it was a website instead. We had very spotty Internet on the island. Squinting, I read the article.
The police had started searching for Georgia back in October. That wasn't news to me, I'd paid attention to everything that had to do with her abduction. But I'd quit looking up news stories around two weeks back, when they still hadn't connected me to the crime.
Yesterday, they'd finally done it.
The article had my photos from the gas station plastered all over. It talked about my connection to the white van they thought was picking up girls. That the vehicle had been in the area Georgia Mary King was last seen in.
Her friend, Chelsea, insisted there was foul play. Georgia hadn't returned home the day after a party and her purse was still in Chelsea's car. Again, this was all old information. What was new was that piece of shit that’d tried to rape her finally come forward.
