Page 136 of Morally Gray Daddies

His gaze was locked on my face, tracking every tear, challenging me to fight him.

I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Willing myself to stop crying, I met his challenging gaze with one of my own. Because, fuck him. I wasn’t going to give in to his stupid game anymore.

“Well, I guess you’re about to find out.” With a huge evil grin, he pulled the bottle out of my pussy one last time. I almost wept with relief, but something in his eyes warned me not to get ahead of myself. I didn’t know what was more shameful, the bottle or his fingers. Actually having Damon touch me, to feel my wetness and know for sure that there was some tiny part of me that was actually not hating this, that was the worst.

Worse still was when he smugly grinned. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. I knew exactly what he was thinking as he pushed one finger, then two up inside me.

“Such a tight little pussy,” he taunted. “I’m going to have far too much fun ruining this tight little pussy, tearing you open for my cock, making you take me.”

I shook my head from side to side, wishing he would stop, wishing for some glimpse of the boy I’d known.

But at this moment, there wasn’t one. He added another finger, strumming me, stretching me, and then another. I wished my hands weren’t tied so I could bite my fist as the pain tore through me when he added a third, a fourth, and then his thumb.

When every digit was inside me, that’s when the really torture started.

The width of his hand burned as it opened inside me. I felt every millimeter of stretching my body did to accommodate him.

The pain, the excruciating humiliation was awful, but it was almost nothing compared to the smug, evil grin on Damon’s face. I gritted my teeth together, trying not to cry, determined not to give him the satisfaction of breaking me, all while lamenting how terribly broken he must be to have become this person, and realizing that I was at least a little bit responsible for his brokenness. I didn’t bother asking him to stop, or cry out. I didn’t beg for mercy. I held myself stiff and rigid, and just prayed it would be over soon. Either because he came to his senses or because Fin finally arrived.

Swallowing a fresh wave of tears, I looked over his head at the clock on the wall. It was old and broken, and probably had not kept time in years, but I let it serve as a reminder that Fin would be here soon.

Fin would be here soon.

He’ll be here soon. Soon.

I repeated the mantra even as Damon caressed my cheek with his free hand, even as he fucked me brutally with his fist, burning my insides.

He smirked when he caught a stray tear on the crook of his pointer finger, brought it to his lips and let his tongue savor the salty evidence of his cruelty.

I repeated it still as Damon stood, dragging his fist from my pussy, leaving me raw and gaping, bereft.

Even as he walked to the far corner of the room and worked the buckle on his belt, even as he undid the fly on his jeans, even as he shoved layers of fabric over his hips, revealing his thick erection.

Even as he stared at me and wrapped his hand around his shaft.

“That sweet pretty pussy belongs to me, baby girl. You promised. Forever and always. I've waited six years. To touch you again. To taste you again, to fuck you again.”

No. No. No!

I shook my head back and forth, as hard as I could, letting him know exactly how I felt about that now. Earlier, before the bottle, before his fist, I would have accepted it, I would have just taken it and been thankful it wasn’t worse. But not now.

He was going to do whatever he wanted; I got that, there was nothing I could do about it, but I wasn't about to let him pretend I was into it. I wasn't going to let him fool himself into thinking I was enjoying it.

To tell myself I wanted it.

I went stiff as a board as he stalked toward me with his cock in his hand.

As he climbed back over me, straddling my hips. As his hard cock pressed between my thighs. As he teased my pussy with his cockhead.

I held my breath as he pushed the tip between my lips, searching to breach my entrance. To put himself inside of me. Without my consent. Was it rape because I couldn’t consent? Would I have said no if I was able?

I honestly didn’t know. Earlier in the day, I wouldn’t have.

Where was Fin?

Damon looked down at me, catching my gaze, with his cockhead still nestled just between my pussy lips, not quite inside me yet. “God, babygirl. How I’ve missed this sweet, tight pussy.”

I gulped hard, my eyes widening as he continued.

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