Page 6 of Piggy

Charlotte

My chin trembles, my whole body shaking as I move to take off my shirt. I face Grayson, hardly able to look up. In fact, I close my eyes as I pull it over my head.

Cautiously, I glance up, hoping he’s not repulsed or laughing at my body.

His expression is unreadable, though.

He kicks off his shoes and unclasps his belt. The clink of metal makes my pulse spike. I watch in a daze as his fly zips down.

I blink when his jeans drop to his ankles, now standing in nothing but his black underwear.

I’m speechless. He isn’t.

“Your bra.”

I nod and fumble with it, yanking off the sports bra with all the grace of a flailing raccoon. It’s not sexy to take off a sports bra. I have to tug it over my head, and by the time it’s off, I’m panting and flushed with embarrassment .

Now I really can’t look at him and stare at the carpet. Waiting.

His voice cuts through the room.

“You’ve been hiding those things.”

I glance up. His eyes catch my breath. He... he’s really looking at me... that way.

With lust.

I think.

“Are... are my boobs okay?” I ask, my voice shaky.

“Uh yeah,” he answers mockingly, like I’m stupid.

My cheeks blaze. I always thought my breasts sagged too much to show anyone.

But he’s still here. Looking at me like he might actually touch me.

“My turn.” He hooks his thumbs in his underwear’s waistband and pulls down without ceremony, just raw, shameless confidence.

My mouth parts. My eyes widen. I catch only a flash before I look away, too flustered to process it fully.

I’ve never seen one in person. It’s so intimidating.

“That’s supposed to fit in me?” I say aloud, horrified, my words slipping out before I can stop them.

“It’ll fit.” He doesn’t smile, as if he expected that response. “Breathe, Charlotte. Don’t pass out on me again.”

My stomach flips. He knows I’m panicking.

Stay calm. I think I’m sweating. I don’t know what’s happening. Grayson is in my room, naked, and he wants... me .

Oh God, please don’t pass out.

“Your panties,” he reminds me.

I can’t do it. It feels like I am out of place in my own room. This is too much.

I blurt. “I’m not ready for you!” I cross my arms over my naked chest, my whole body tense.

He furrows his brow, confused. “What do you mean?”

I startle. He’s suddenly right in front of me. His fingers slide beneath my chin and tilt my face up. It’s not gentle. It’s firm.

He wants me to look at him.

“I, I mean, you’re...” I swallow hard. “Grayson, you’re out of my league. I don’t know what I’m doing. Look at me. I’m already shaking, and you said you don’t like virgins because they’re nervous.”

He exhales and rolls his eyes.

He’s not getting it—

“That’s exactly why I should be your first.”

My breath catches.

His hand cups my jaw. “I’ll teach you.”

He leans in. Before I can blink, his mouth brushes mine.

I’m still, arms at my side.

He presses down, a gentle kiss. Then another, hinging open his jaw. His glorious tongue fills my mouth. He pauses.

“Open wider,” he murmurs against my lips.

I do.

His tongue caresses mine. I copy him .

“Follow my pace,” he breathes, gripping my jaw tightly. “You’re moving too fast.”

Shoot! I slow down. Let him lead.

“Better.”

I absolutely melt.

When his lips part and he pulls away, he murmurs, “See? First kiss. Easy.”

I barely remember how to nod, my mouth gaping open. The warm fuzzy feeling, the butterflies, I’m... just wow!

He gives me a double-take, and I snap my mouth shut, face burning.

In one swift motion, he grips behind my knees and lifts. I gasp as I rise from the floor, my back landing with a bounce on the bed.

He doesn’t hesitate. His fingers curl into the waistband of my panties and strip them down like they offend him.

He pries my knees apart and jerks my hips to the edge of the bed. Then... he kneels between my legs.

Oh my gosh! Grayson is going down on me.

I prop myself on my elbows, watching in disbelief. The second his lips meet my slit, I suck in a sharp breath. His tongue parts me, and it’s pure bliss. The warmth, the wetness, the slow speed intensifies every movement.

He reaches my entrance, circles his tongue on the edge, slipping just the tip inside.

When he retracts, he glances up at me. “You’ve got a big hymen,” he says. “I can’t even fit my whole tongue in. ”

“I do?” I squeak.

He nods. “Yeah. I’m gonna tear the fuck out of you.”

I tense instinctively. The fear flickers across my face, and he laughs, amused by it.

“It’s not funny,” I murmur.

His smile shifts, softer. He kisses my sensitive bundle of nerves tenderly, like he’s soothing me. “Don’t worry, Piggy, I’ll take good care of you.”

I frown. “Can you call me something different? Or just Charlotte?” Hot tears pool in my eyes. This doesn’t feel romantic. I pout in a soft voice, “Can we just.... get this over with?”

Grayson goes still.

“Get this over with?” he repeats, his voice low and brimming with disgust.

Before I can respond, he moves.

In one fluid, forceful movement, he lays me flat, pressing my back into the mattress. His body cages me in. Knees between my legs. His palm flat on the bed beside my head. The mattress sinks. He’s heavy — all muscle and power.

The traces of playfulness are gone. No smile. No teasing. Just tension.

I open my mouth, but no words come.

Don’t ruin this, Charlotte.

“I’m sorry... um. I didn’t mean it.”

He doesn’t change his expression, just replies, “Relax. I know you want this. Were you touching yourself when you spied on me?”

I’m speechless and red as a beet, but he just smiles briefly, then holds his shaft, moving it into place.

I close my eyes, bracing myself as his blunt tip presses to my entrance.

Pressure builds.

A sharp pinch. Really sharp.

“Ow!” I gasp, grimacing.

“You ready?” he asks.

My eyes snap open. “What?”

“You ready?” he repeats, voice flatter now, seeming uninterested in making this feel special.

“I thought you were in!”

He grins — smirks, really. “The tip, a little. I’m about to push in.”

Oh my gosh.. . that already hurt. Anxiety surges through me.

“Just go in a tiny bit.”

He tilts his head, jaw flexing like I just insulted him. “This isn’t a game of just the tip. ”

He’s so cold. Uncaring.

Tears burn my eyes. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I thought it would feel different. It was supposed to be romantic. But this is scary. It hurts. I wish it had been with Alex. At least he actually liked me.”

I start to sit up, and he moves .

Fast.

His hand covers my mouth, pushing me gently but firmly back into the mattress. His heavy body lowers over mine, pinning me in place.

I’m stiff as a board, my eyes wide.

In that low, rough voice, he says, “You want romantic? Fine. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since your birthday. The sad little way you said my name. How you couldn’t even look at me, remember? I wanted to fuck you right there on that couch.”

His gaze sharpens, like he’s daring me to flinch.

“I’ve been watching you ever since, telling myself to stay away. But fuck, I don’t want to.” He rests his forehead to mine. “I want this moment to be ours .”

My heart freaking soars.

He keeps his hand pressed tightly to my mouth as his hips turn in.

I close my eyes, the pressure immense.

It’s happening!