My Fiancé’s Cousin Owns Me

MIA

My pussy was already dripping when I pushed my fingers in.

The bathroom door was locked. The water ran just loud enough to hide the soft, wet sounds of my arousal. 

I sat on the closed toilet lid with my skirt hiked up around my waist, panties somewhere around, legs spread wide. 

My other hand found my nipple. I pinched hard enough to feel a sting, I needed the sting…soft touches never did anything for me anymore.

I was so empty that it hurt.

Three months engaged to Lucas Black and still nothing. No hands under my clothes, no mouth on my skin, no cock in my pussy. Just polite smiles and closed bedroom doors. 

I started touching myself almost immediately. We started dating, and I would always finish alone, still not satisfied.

Tonight I was desperate and horny.

I rubbed my clit in tight, fast circles, two fingers thrusting in and out of my cunt. The wet noise filled the bathroom, despite the shower running. 

My hips jerked as I pleasured myself. I bit my lip to keep quiet and imagined someone shoving me against the wall, taking me without asking, and looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered.

The orgasm hit hard and was messy. My thighs shook, and my squirt spilled from my clit, messing up the bathroom floor. I kept rubbing through it, riding my fingers until my wrist ached. 

When it finally faded, I slumped forward, breathing hard, fingers still buried inside me, then… the doorknob rattled.

“Mia?”

Lucas’s voice echoed from outside the door. It sounded Calm. 

I yanked my hand free, wiped it on a towel, flushed the toilet as if I had just finished using it, and fixed my dress with shaking hands before opening the door.

Lucas stood there in a light-gray suit, already dressed for the evening. His hair was perfect, expression mild, almost bored. 

His gaze flicked over my flushed cheeks and the damp shine still on my fingers before I hid them behind my back.

“You have been in here a little too long,” he said.

“I… needed a minute.”

He stepped past me into the bathroom, glanced at the running water, then turned the faucet off. When he looked at me again, his smile was thin.

“You are flushed.”

I swallowed as I stepped closer, close enough to smell his cologne, and reached up so my fingers brushed his jaw.

“Lucas… can we…”

He caught my wrist before my hand fully settled on his cheek.

“Don’t.”

He cut me off with a firm grip, but not rough. He looked down at me like I had just asked him to do something disgusting.

But I tried again, softer this time because I knew he could see how starved I was. 

“I just want…”

“I know what you want.” He released my wrist and stepped back, putting clear space between us. “You are always wanting something, Mia. It’s exhausting.”

Shame flooded my face; I ignored it. I could still feel the wetness between my legs. 

“I’m your fiancée,” I whispered.

“And that is already a privilege.” 

His voice stayed gentle, which somehow made it worse. 

“Most women in your position would understand that.” He closed the bathroom door and walked past me to widen the space between us. “They wouldn’t keep throwing themselves at a man who has already given them more than they deserve.”

I stared at him as the harsh word dug something raw inside me.

He reached into the shopping bag he had been holding and pulled out a black dress and tossed it onto the bed behind me.

“Wear this tonight, the Black family masked ball starts in two hours.”

He walked towards the door. “My father expects us both to be presentable.” He checked his watch. “Be ready in forty minutes, don’t make us late.”

I picked up the dress. It was beautiful and expensive,  fitted enough to show every curve I usually tried to hide.

I clutched it against my chest.

“Lucas…”

He had already opened the door when I called him, he paused with his hand on the frame.

“Stop looking desperate.” He held the doorknob, getting ready to close it before he added, “...desperation is not attractive.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

I stood alone in the quiet bedroom, the dress still in my hands, the ache between my legs still pulsing.

I wanted to actually say thank you for the dress, but Lucas has always been Lucas… never interested in hearing anything from me.

I walked to the mirror and stared at my reflection. Still pale skin, flushed cheeks, and big hopeful eyes.

The memory hit without warning.

*FLASHBACK*

I was eighteen again, I had just come back from my birthday celebration. Jax and Judith had insisted I celebrate. 

My father's living room smelled of cigarettes and cheap whiskey. He had just told me about his plans like he was discussing the day's meal.

“Mia, you are an adult now, this family needs support.” His voice slurred annoyingly. “I have some people that are interested in you…” He belched. “It would be a good means to clear up some debt.”

It was so clear to my ears that I didn't know when I started crying. Within that week, I couldn't count how many men had fucked me.

That day, I was sitting in the living room when a man walked in. As usual, he looked at me like I was a piece of meat at a market stall. 

“She’s quiet,” he would usually say, “she doesn’t fight much.” He would pick up his cigarette and pour himself whiskey.

My stepmother would sit on the couch scrolling through her phone like nobody in the room even existed.

Lila was always waiting to hear me scream, with her arms crossed and the satisfied smile she always wore when I was about to be abused.

I had learned not to cry because it only made it last longer.

When it was over, and the man left, my father would count the money and tell me to clean myself up.

I would shower until the water ran cold, and scrub my skin until it burned,  but no matter how hard I scrubbed, I could still feel their hands. 

Even then, I still wanted something that felt like being chosen instead of used. I had left that house two years later with hope that someone somewhere might actually want me genuinely. 

Lucas felt like God sent at first. He was polite and stable. But he never wanted me sexually, no matter how hard I tried.

But a girl needs to be touched. 

*PRESENT DAY*

I stepped into the black dress. It fit perfectly, the neckline dipping low enough to show the tops of my breasts. I put on the simple silver mask Lucas had left on the dresser, and forced my expression into something calm.

I smoothed the dress over my hips one last time and opened the door.

Lucas was waiting in the living room, phone in his hand. He glanced up the moment I stepped into the living room and gave a short nod of approval, and gestured toward the elevator.

“Finally, let’s go.”

That was all. Nothing like you look beautiful. 

I shrugged and followed him without another word, the wetness still cooling between my thighs and the same fragile hope that maybe, somehow, tonight would be different.

Outside, the city lights blurred. The Black family ball waited, filled with money, masks and powerful people who would look at me and see only Lucas’s quiet, grateful fiancée.

But I had no idea how different it was about to become.