Slut.
Pussy.
Nothing but a fuck.
“Rachel Kensington’s mother called me,” she says, licking, kissing, and panting against my neck. “She said she found you and her daughter half naked on their couch last night.”
I take her waist in my other hand, kneading the flesh through the silk, never blinking as I stare at myself and letting all the emotions rip through me.
Anger.
Shame.
Fear.
Violence.
Pain.
Sadness.
Helplessness.
They float through, jumbling together until I can’t identify one from the other, and it’s not even me in the reflection anymore. Everything in my brain leaves, my mind turns off, and my hands stop shaking. I’m just a body.
This is me.
I am me.
“She was glad nothing serious had happened,” my mother goes on.
Rachel who?
“Oh, sweetie,” she coos. “I understand. Boys will be boys, and she teased you, didn’t she? She wouldn’t let you have it.”
I dig my fingers into her skull, squeezing her hip tighter.
“Shhh,” she says, trying to pull away from my hold. “Little girls just don’t understand what boys need. It’s okay. I’m here.” Her lips trailed a line across my jaw, mewling as she tries to get my grip off her hair.
“You can pretend I’m her,” she tells me, my dick growing hard and hot with blood. “Show me what you were going to do to her. Show me how you wanted to fuck that silly little girl.”
No, no, no…
“Show me,” she urges. “Fuck me.”
No…
“Take what’s yours,” she growls. “Give that girl what she deserves.”
I suck in a breath, tears springing to my eyes, and I jump off the counter, swing around, grab her by the back of the neck, and bend her over the counter.
She spreads her legs and pulls up her nightie for me, bites her bottom lip. “That’s my boy.”
I hold her head right in front of the mirror, staring at her as she challenges me back.
“Do it, baby,” she whispers. “Come all inside me. Come on, come on, come on…”
And I glare at her, tighten my hold on her hair and neck, press her into the counter, and pull her head up—