Page 31 of Like An Animal
I know it’s not normal to be this desperate for sex when we did it right before leaving for his show. We didn’t spend the entire time we were gone teasing each other. We weren’t in direct contact for ninety percent of the time we were gone.
I’ve recently been seeing a therapist–completely by my own choice–and they said that they believe Jeremy and I are “suffering from” hypersexuality as a result of trauma. The obsessive need I have and the compulsive behaviors match up, but what the therapist said that I don’t agree with–and I don’t think Jeremy would either–is that we need to separate and work on healing our own trauma and “addiction” before pursuing this.
Needless to say, after she said that, I fired her and left. That was only a few days ago though. She didn’t know what kind of trauma we had been through. The memory of Jeremy’s back story kept me from exposing it. His mother found out the truth and Kathy blew up his childhood home with him inside of it. She’d do anything to keep her secret hidden and I don’t want to put Jeremy’s life in danger like that.
Therapists are mandatory reporters. If I told her anything, she’d have to go to the cops.
Jeremy pulls back and thrusts hard back inside me as I moan, meeting him thrust for thrust. My brain fogs as I get lostin him. His hand presses hard into my lower back as he slams into me again.
“Oh, God!” I cry out as he grunts.
“That’s right, baby. Take me. You fit me like a fucking glove. You’re fucking mine. Now, say it.”
My jaw slacks as his piercings drag along my walls, teasing and taunting me with what’s to come. “I’m yours,” I cry out the words and he buries himself inside me to the hilt again, thrusting so hard my thighs slam into the edge of the table. By the end of this, I’ll have bruises that match up to the table’s edge.
“Tell me you belong to me,” he demands as his hand comes down hard on my ass.
“I belong to you, Jeremy!”
“Again.”
“I belong to you.”
“Again.”
“I’m yours.”
“Again.”
“I’m your property. Oh, fuck!” Suddenly, my pussy clamps down on him as his hand slaps my ass so hard his fingerprints will be bruised into my flesh for days to come.
“That’s it, little ghost.”
That’s what he really wanted to hear. He wanted me to admit that I’m his property, that I completely belong to him and only him. It’s something we have fought about for a long time, going back years to when I didn’t realize that’s why he always attacked anyone who touched me in front of him.
I’m his. Maybe I always have been and just didn’t know it yet.
“What the fuck are you doing?!”
A voice booms from the doorway and I barely lift my head to see my father, looking both pissed off and disgusted.
Ain’t that the pot calling the kettle black?
He’s the disgusting one. Him and his wife.
So what if Jeremy is fucking me on the kitchen table? At least Jeremy always has my consent. Even if I don’t want to admit it out loud, I’ve wanted it every single time he has touched me and he knows that. My father never got consent from me. He just stole whatever he could. That alone makes him evil and there are so many more things he has done that just make it worse.
“I’m fucking my woman,” Jeremy growls as he runs his fingers up my back and into my hair before yanking my head back. At the same moment, he slams into me again and I scream from how good it feels.
“Get the fuck off of her, you degenerate,” my father sneers with anger.
Without missing a beat, I reach back and grab the back of Jeremy’s jeans. “Don’t stop.” I don’t give a fuck if my sperm donor is present. I don’t want Jer to ever stop fucking me like this.
“You heard her, old man. She doesn’t want me to stop. Looks like you’re shit out of luck.”
My father looks so pissed that he is five seconds from either leaving in anger or hitting Jer. Kathy didn’t even look that pissed off, but he does and I know why. I’m not an idiot. This is confirmation that he lost his toy.
I’m not his victim anymore.
