LOGINHis thumb stayed right there on the inside of my thigh. Neither of us moved. The fire was the only light left in the room, then the rain went heavier My heart was beating so hard I was sure he could feel it through my leg. This is Nathan, I kept thinking. Brooke’s dad. The man who used to make us pancakes and fix my bike when the chain came off. The same man who called me “kid” even when I turned eighteen. And now his hand was on my bare thigh like it belonged there. I should have pushed it away or stood up and gone to bed, but instead I stayed perfectly still, breathing shallow, waiting to see what he would do next. “Emma…” His voice was low against my ear, the heat streaming off it. “We can’t do this.” “I know,” I whispered back But still, I didn’t move. And he didn’t take his hand away neither His thumb brushed higher like it had a mind of it's hold, but just an inch, then it stopped again. Almost like he was fighting it. I could feel how tense his arm was, h
I stood on the path for a long time after Nathan went inside. The water from the lake was still dripping down my legs, cold against my skin, but I barely felt it. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. His words kept looping in my head: “Good. Very good.” and the way his eyes had dropped to my body for that half-second before he looked away. I know, I should feel ashamed, that was Nathan. Brooke’s dad. The man who used to let me sleep on his couch when my parents fought. The one who drove us to school when it rained. He’d known me since I was nine. And here I was, nineteen, standing in a bikini, getting wet just from the way he looked at me. Disgusted. I judge myself. Shook my head and went inside, and changed into dry shorts and a tank top. I told myself it was nothing, just my imagination. Just loneliness after the breakup, just the cabin making everything feel too close. Brooke left around eleven, yelling that she was meeting friends from town for
Intro:..... . . The drive up the mountain was quiet. Brooke was in the passenger seat with her earbuds in, head against the window, asleep before we even hit the highway. Nathan drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift. I sat in the back with my legs stretched out, pretending to scroll my phone, but really I was watching him in the rearview mirror. He hadn’t said much since we left the city. Just asked if I was comfortable, turned the AC down when I shivered. Same Nathan who used to pick us up from middle school dances, who made us pancakes on Sunday mornings when Brooke’s mom was working night shifts. The man who taught me how to change a tire when I was sixteen because my own dad was already long gone by then. Now I’m nineteen. And every time he glances in the mirror, I feel it low in my stomach. We pulled up to the cabin just as the sun dipped behind the pines. Same place we’ve come every summer since Brooke and I were kids -- Wood siding, bi
Damian took one last drag from the cigarette, then crushed it out in the ashtray. He looked down at me like I was something he’d already decided to break. “You’re not leaving until morning,” he said. That’s not a suggestion.” Before I could even catch my breath, he grabbed my ankles and yanked me to the edge of the bed. My legs were still shaking from everything he’d just done with his tongue. He didn’t care, he just flipped me onto my stomach, pulled my hips up so my ass was in the air, and shoved two thick fingers back inside me I moan scream into the pink pillow He pumped them hard a few times, then pulled them out and replaced them with his cock in one brutal thrust. “Fuck!” I cried out. He was thick, bigger than I expected to feel inside me. He stretched me open so wide it burned but in a good way He didn’t give me time to adjust, he just started fucking me immediately. Hard, deep, angry strokes that made the bed slam against the wall hard His hand came d
The hotel door had barely clicked shut before Damian had me pinned against the wall. His massive hand wrapped around my throat, not squeezing hard, just holding me there while his mouth crashed into mine. The kiss was deep and filthy from the start, tongues sliding, lips sucking mind. I could taste the whiskey on him. My hands grabbed at his shirt, desperate, while his other hand shoved my skirt up and ripped my panties off in one brutal yank. The sound of the fabric tearing sent a fresh gush of wetness between my legs “Fuck… you’re dripping down your thighs already,” he growled against my mouth. Two thick fingers pushed straight into me. No teasing or warmup. He started rubbing my clit fast and rough while his tongue kept fucking my mouth passionately. The pressure built so quickly I couldn’t breathe. My legs started shaking. Couldn't hold it no more I moaned loud into his mouth as I came hard, squirting all over his hand, warm and messy, more and more pouring out
**** A few days had passed since Sam fucked me so hard I could still feel it when I sat down. My hips carried faint bruises shaped like his fingers, and every time I moved too quickly, a dull ache reminded me of how rough he’d been in that boathouse. I should’ve felt guilty, but I know I didn’t, Instead, the memory made me wet all over again. But tonight... Tonight, I needed to forget. Or at least pretend I could. Friday night. Me, Sophie, and two girls from our dorm hit the usual bar downtown. The place was packed, music loud and bass-heavy, neon lights flickering over sticky counters. We started with cheap shots that burned going down, then moved to mixed drinks that went down way too easy. By the third round, everything felt warm and loose, the kind of drunk where your skin tingles and bad ideas start sounding good. We claimed a booth near the back. Sophie was already tipsy, laughing loud about some guy from her psych class who kept sending her dick pics. The ot







