9. Lars

9

Lars

As much as I enjoy Cain dominating me, I enjoy getting one over on Billie. There’s a perverse joy in degrading her. The first time I found out she liked it was by accident. I was balls deep in her, and instead of telling her how she was the sun and the moon, I called her my good little slut. Billie didn’t freak out or get mad. No, her pussy gripped my cock so hard that I thought she’d take it right off.

“You like that, Billie? You like being called a slut?”

She silently nodded as she broke my flesh with her nails and dug her way down my back.

I gripped her chin hard. “How far do you want me to go?”

She panted, casting her eyes down for a moment before gazing directly into mine. There was no hesitation in her voice, no misunderstanding. “Much further.”

“Don’t forget your safe word.”

“Where did you learn how to talk like this?” she asked.

“I’ve never done this shit before.” I looked away from her, wanting to hide the humiliation deep within my heart. “I just heard it somewhere.”

“From your mother?”

I froze, not knowing what to do. Billie was a part of us, and we’d vowed never to keep secrets or lie. We promised our little found family would be free from the bullshit we lived with our biological one. “Yes, the first time. But then I used it with Cain. Just make sure you use your word, okay? It protects you in case I go too far. I don’t want to hurt you, not on purpose or by accident.”

“Hey,” Billie said, gripping my face and forcing me to look at her. “I trust you.

My fingers twist in Billie’s hair, and I pull her head back. “Remember your word, Billie?”

She nods.

I bend to kiss her, our tongues melding as we move the cum back and forth between us. A sick act meant to humiliate and also heal. I spent a lot of time wondering why I enjoyed what I did, but eventually concluded it didn’t matter. What others deem as acceptable has nothing to do with me. For so long, I lived my life concerned about the judgment of others, and all it did was bring me grief. Now I do what feels good, and I don’t give a rat’s ass what anyone thinks.

“Give it all to me,” I whisper as I lick her lips.

Billie kisses me with a passion filled with longing and hatred. A cocktail containing rage and love, hope and regret. No one has ever kissed me like this. This is the type of kiss that poets write about. A tornado ready to engulf you and the summer sun bathing you with warmth.

She pulls away, her eyes soft, and for a moment, I’m no longer lonely. My lips part, and I tip my head back, allowing her easy access to spit in my mouth. But Billie doesn’t stop there; she slaps me across the face and smiles.

Oh, the little girl wants to play. I grip her throat and slam her on the sofa. Billie’s eyes widen, and for a second, she seems scared. I’m not sure how I feel about the fear she reveals. A part of me finds it sexy—it sure as fuck makes my cock throb—but I don’t want her to think I’ll hurt her. It’s a game. A fucked-up game, but a game nonetheless.

She knows what to do if it gets too much. I asked her. Same thing as we did back then. She taps me with her index finger if she can’t talk and says the word “family” if she can. Billie knows what she’s doing. She wants to play.

She fights me, her nails clawing my flesh and ripping my skin.

I like it.

The more she fights, the more turned on I become. I have to give it to her; ten years ago, she would’ve tapped out by now.

I slap her and spit the fluid directly on her face. “You want to act cute, Billie? My dirty whore. If you want a show, I can force you into one. All we have to do is go outside on the balcony.”

Billie stops her assault. She freezes as cum drips from her face and lands on the hotel room floor. I expect her to freak out and beg me not to do it, but she smiles. “You knew me ten years ago. I’m not that same girl. Bring it, bitch.”

She utters a muffled scream as I push on her throat before grabbing her arm and turning her. I place my foot on the back of her head. “Lick up the mess you made, you pathetic whore.”

Silence fills the room as Cain and I listen to Billie slurping his cum off the floor.

“That’s a good little slut.” I bend to her ear. “Don’t forget your place, whore, or next time, it’ll be much worse. Now get your ass up, fuck hole.”

My foot remains on her head, and Billie struggles as she brings her knees in and pushes her ass up in the air. I abandon her head and slide under her, my fingers forcefully digging into her hips. Pulling her down, I impale her on my cock. “Fuck, Billie, you got any idea what it’s like to spend night after night dreaming of this pussy?”

“Fuck you, Lars. You’re acting like you weren’t the one who threw me away like I meant nothing.”

Her big ass jiggles as my palm lands on it with a hard slap. I don’t want reminders of the biggest mistake I ever made. Right now, I want my girl. “Shut up, Billie, or I’ll make you cry.”

“There are no more tears for you, Lars,” Billie wails. “That well dried up years ago. I don’t give a fuck about you or Cain. I’m only here for a fuck, so shut up, be a man, and give me the only thing you’re good for.”

Like an animal, I repeatedly slap her ass. I want her to beg me to stop, surrendering her safe word.

“She won’t bend,” Cain says from above me. He gets on his knees in front of me, a bottle of that fucking THC lube and paper clips in his hand. “She’s punishing us, Lars. She won’t give us the satisfaction. So, it looks like we’re gonna have to break her.”