Page 24 of Piggy
Grayson
Charlotte’s hair tangles in the breeze, the air carrying the scent of salt and wet wood.
She stumbles over the thick grass, her heels sinking into the earth. I spin her toward the front of the car. She barely has time to gasp before I bend her over the hood, shoving her palms flat against the warm metal.
Her breath hitches. “Grayson, someone might see—!”
“Good.” I flip her dress up, baring her ass. I drag my hand across the exposed skin. “Let them watch.”
She starts to push up, but I plant my hand between her shoulder blades and press down. “Stay the fuck down, Piggy.”
“I— I believe you now!” she blurts, her voice breaking as she searches the street for headlights. “I do. I believe you didn’t sleep with anyone else.”
“Too late.” My voice is clipped. “You doubted me. And I’m not letting you walk around thinking I’d fuck anyone but you. ”
I finger her roughly — wet already — and I let out a smug chuckle. “Your pussy’s dripping for me.”
Then, I place my blunt tip at her entrance. Instantly, her warm, slick entrance causes me to shudder . I couldn’t get hard for other women, even seeing them screwing on camera.
Now, here I am, rock hard. For this woman.
Fuck, I missed her.
Everything’s perfect as I push forward, closing my eyes to savor her curvy little body taking my shaft inch by inch. She’s fucking tight. She definitely hasn’t had sex for awhile.
She’s braced, arms trembling as I bury myself. Once in fully, she exhales a long breath, like she’s been holding it in all this time. I knew it. She wanted this just as bad as I did.
“Look over there.” I tilt my chin toward the shop window across the narrow road, where the glass glints. “Look at yourself.”
She blinks.
Her reflection stares back — bent over, thighs tense, red dress hiked around her waist. Me, towering behind her, pants down just enough to expose the cut of my hips and the flex of my ass.
And her body taking all of me while I grip her hips, like I’m holding onto a memory that may disappear if I let go.
A breath catches in her throat, her gaze in awe. She doesn’t look away .
“Good girl,” I praise, then move in slow, agonizing strokes. Deep and sensual. Her body clenches with every inch, and fuck if that doesn’t make my eyes roll back.
But soon, I lean over her, chest against her back, stubble grazing her neck as I nip her ear. “How many lucky guys got to fuck you, baby?”
She tenses. “What?”
“How many?” I breathe again, cock dragging slower as I wait for the answer. “Don’t lie. Bet they lined up for a taste once you started strutting around like a slut. That sexy new hair. This tight dress. The way you moved around those guys naked. You know what you are doing now.”
She looks over her shoulder, scowling, but I thrust deep and hard, knocking the air from her lungs.
I work her faster to calm that chaotic little mind. Her body melts onto the hood with each dig. She stops resisting, the shock slipping from her eyes.
She moans.
Beautiful.
I slow again, using her submission to my advantage. “Tell me, Charlotte. I won’t hold it against you. I just need to know.”
She pants, cheeks red and lips parted. Finally, she murmurs, “Nobody. I didn’t sleep with anyone. I couldn’t. I was just... too hurt to move on.”
My heart stutters from her confession.
That fucking loyalty. She had every reason to sleep around. And didn’t. All because of me .
I don’t deserve it. But I’ll take it.
“See?” I reply, brushing her hair from her face. “You went a year. So did I. I missed you too much.”
Her lashes flutter. Her jaw relaxes. She believes me.
And that trust... fuck, it makes my cock jump.
I slide a hand beneath her, my fingers finding that swollen bundle of nerves. I circle it slow, coaxing soft whimpers from her lips as I keep thrusting long, shaky, claiming strokes.
Her hips jerk in rhythm, rubbing against my hand, chasing the pleasure I’m giving her. She’s soaked. She’s close. And she still watches our reflection, her own eyes glassy, mouth open in surrender.
She looks wrecked. Beautifully wrecked.
Mine.
Fuck.
I tried to hold back.
But it’s over.
White-hot ecstasy shoots through my core as I release inside her pussy. Too soon, too hard. But it’s her. She’s just as sweet, submissive, sexy... she’s everything I remember.
I don’t pull out.
Can’t.
I stay buried, panting over her back, gripping her hips so tight my knuckles crack.
Then I spin her around, her back thuds on the hood. Her breath’s ragged, lashes clumped together with sweat. I spread her thighs wide, exposing that gorgeous, messy cunt. My cum drips from her, pooling on the glossy steel.
Perfect.
My dick pulses just looking at it.
I drop to my knees.
Without hesitation, I latch my mouth to her clit and slide two fingers inside her, curling them deep onto that hot, swollen spot.
She jerks, moaning my name, thighs trembling around my head.
“That’s it,” I say, my voice muffled in her cunt. “My sweet little whore. Only mine. Cum for me. Like you deserve.”
Her thighs clamp, locking around my ears, and she convulses. Breath hitching, mouth open, silent for a second... then shattered by a broken, strangled gasp as she hits her peak.
Goddamn, she’s gorgeous when she breaks.
I rise fast, grabbing her and hauling her off the car like she weighs nothing. She throws her arms around my neck, legs wrapped around my waist, clinging to me desperately.
“Don’t leave me now!” she chokes out.
The intensity of her hold. I feel it. Unraveled and vulnerable. Afraid the past will repeat itself.
No fucking way.
“I won’t leave,” I assure. “I mean it, baby. I love you. ”
Fuck, I actually said it. Again. Like I’m begging to lose myself. But it’s true. I’m her fucking simp and she doesn’t even know how bad I’ve got it.
Then—
Whoop! Whoop!
Red-blue lights flash against the trees and buildings. Both our heads snap toward the sound.
A patrol car creeps down the road.
“Shit.” My blood turns ice. I unclamp her from my body, yank her dress down, and cinch up my pants so fast I nearly catch skin.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Charlotte gasps. “Grayson—”
“I can’t get caught. Not when I’m on parole.”
Because if I do, this whole life I just got back?
Gone.