Page 9 of Piggy

Grayson

Just as I am about to leap into the pool and drown Killian, Meghan’s slender fingers slide into the waistband of my swim trunks.

“Come on, Grayson. You’re gonna regret it. Go inside. Cool down. One parole violation and back to prison.”

She’s right, but I fucking hate it.

Cautiously, she takes my wrist to lead me inside. Charlotte’s gaze snaps to me.

Her eyes narrow, like she’s daring me. I look away first. Fuck her. Test me? I’m not giving her the satisfaction.

Meghan and I walk on. I won’t give that bitch a second glance.

Inside, I lean against the kitchen counter, trying to calm down. Meghan strokes my hair lovingly, speaking softly.

“You have a crush on that girl, huh? ”

“Hell no. I took her virginity,” I reply, my voice low so nobody else hears. But I get riled up, adding, “She doesn’t know what she’s doing! Too stupid. Killian will—”

I stop short, my breath shaky. I can’t say it.

“Damn, baby,” Meghan says with a half-smile. “You’re down bad for her.”

“No,” I growl.

But I can’t stop picturing it. Killian’s hands on her. That dumb smile on her face... her making those sounds she made for me.

She’d let him. She’s that desperate. Pathetic. That fucking easy. She’ll let anyone—

Fuck!

My fist slams into the fridge, denting the door.

Meghan flinches, then smooths a hand down my forearm. “Okay. We need to go. My place. Get high. Chill.”

She’s not wrong.

I do need to get the hell out of here before I start breaking more shit... or skulls.

I grab a shirt and slip on my shoes, then glance out onto the patio as we head to the front door.

Charlotte is getting out of the pool.

Killian’s gonna take her to a bedroom tonight. I just know it.

She heads toward the house, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll get you a beer! ”

As soon as she steps inside, she startles. She better flinch. I’m fucking on edge.

Her eyes widen and she says nervously, “Grayson,” then has the gall to scurry toward the kitchen. What a brat.

I’m right behind her, though.

“What the hell was that? Killian? Really? And what the fuck are you wearing? A bikini made for OnlyFans?”

She doesn’t look at me, just heads for the fridge. I grab her upper arm and spin her around. She backs up, frightened, and trapped when her backside hits the sink.

Her arms cross and she says in a small voice, “I’m getting experience, remember? Then I won’t be boring in bed.”

I blink.

Shit.

“So the plan now is to be a whore? That it? Of course. You opened your legs for me in a second.”

Her eyes snap up to mine, a fire burning behind them. She thumps her palms against my chest, but this time, I don’t budge.

She snarls, “Fuck you, Grayson! You’ve been ignoring me for weeks. You used me. And now you call me a whore!”

She grabs the nearest thing, a bowl of chips, and throws it at my face .

Big mistake. I block it. Chips scatter everywhere. I got my hand noosed around her neck, not choking, but God, she’s begging me to.

She’s furious. Face red, hair wet, trembling .

And it’s absolutely killing me. Damn, when she shakes like that... my cock fucking jumps.

Her lip curls, her anger inching higher. “I’m gonna blow all these guys and get good at it, and you won’t get any. So there!”

No fucking way she just said that .

She ducks to sneak past, but I won’t have it and cage her in.

I can’t even think. All I can see is her lips on someone else. Her body under someone else.

No.

No.

Fuck this!

I yank her by the arm and drag her dumbass to my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind us.

Lock it. Twist it hard.

She flinches.

I untie my swim trunks, yanking them halfway down.

“You want a cock in your mouth so goddamn bad? Fine.”

Her eyes go wide, caught off guard.

I shove her down to her knees.

For a second—

She fucking smiles .

A flash of something on her face. A thrill, defiance, I don’t know.

“You really are a whore,” I mutter, grabbing her jaw.

And I press forward, forcing myself into her mouth .

Immediately — teeth.

Too much. Too tight. Mouth too small.

“Fuck—!” I snarl. “You’re terrible at this. You’re not even a good whore.”

Her brows pull tight, and her eyes go glassy.

Good. She doesn’t like it.

I grip the back of her head.

Now I’ll slam my dick down her throat until she passes out. Then she’ll hate it. Never do it again. Never suck off anyone else.

But tears pour from her eyes, probably scared I’m about to hurt her.

I breathe in deep.

I stop myself.

“Don’t fucking cry, I bite out. “Jesus, you’re lower than pathetic.”

I withdraw my dick, but her hands reach for my hips, trembling, grasping for me.

Like she’s not done.

Like she wants more.

What the hell is wrong with her?

I’m so fucking furious, I grab her by the waist and throw her onto the bed.

She lands hard, twisted on her side, but before she can scramble away, I yank her bikini bottoms down to her knees and shove my shaft inside her, rough, raw, and buried in one punishing thrust .

She gasps and squirms.

Her top has ridden up, those perfect tits bouncing free, jiggling with every thrust. I can’t look away.

“And you wore this tiny bikini?” I growl through clenched teeth. “What? I fuck you once and suddenly you’re cock hungry?”

She hides her face behind her hands, saying nothing. Just taking it.

Honestly, her silence enrages me more.

But then, my gaze drags down her helpless body. Her flushed skin. Her curvy, thick shape. The faint shimmer of pool water still drying on her thighs.

And something claws at my chest.

My grip on her hip tightens. I slam into her again.

“I can’t believe you let those guys look at you,” I scold. “This body, this little body, the one only I’ve seen... you’re just gonna give it to someone else?”

She whimpers softly, making my dick throb inside her.

And I slow down.

My anger is still there, but it’s bleeding into something else.

She’s here. With me.

Every inch of her is mine right now. Her tight pussy clenching around me, her shallow breaths driving me insane, the way she feels under my hands, her absolute submission. I didn’t even have to smack some sense into her. Such a slut for me .

And fuck.. .

I like it.

I slow again.

My chest heaves as I stare down, watching myself disappear into her warm, sweet cunt.

I didn’t even warm her up.

I stop.

What the hell?

Why do I care if she’s hurting?

Since when do I stop?

That’s not me. That’s never been me.

I hang my head, confused. Breathing hard. I lean over, forehead dropping to her shoulder.

“Grayson...” she says, her voice muffled behind her hands. “I’m sorry I made you mad.”

What?

My brows knit.

She’s apologizing?

I glance at her, and her eyes are curving. I pry her hands from her mouth.

“What the hell are you smiling about?” I snap, more confused.

She hesitates, blinking fast, like her brain’s racing to decide if she should say it.

Then, she blurts:

“I only said I wanted to sleep around so I could get experience. So I’d be good enough for you.”

My stomach lurches.

She bites her lip, but her smile comes back. “I’m just happy I got to... give you a blowjob. And that you’re having sex with me again. I’m in your bed!”

I blink.

I stare at her. This girl who dare cross me. Soft, stupid, and fucking perfect.

My chest stills, torn between praising or punishing this thing I never wanted... but can’t shake.

Without a word, I roll her onto her back and feed myself into her warmth again. I rest on my elbows, shielding her under me from the rest of the world. I want her to myself. This innocent thing I’m not supposed to have. A plaything I want to use. Keep.

I kiss her mouth deeply, the way I wanted to after I fucked her the first time.

My lips move down her neck, sucking marks into her skin, wanting to claim her even though I shouldn’t. I bury my face in her wild, damp hair and inhale, like it’ll ground me. Like maybe I won’t spin out of control if I just keep breathing her in.

She smells like chlorine, shampoo, and something only she has.

“I don’t want to share you,” I murmur, a thought that slips out before I can stop it.

“You don’t?” she whispers.

I sigh, but I’m drowning in her .

“I dented your fridge,” I say quietly. “Guess I can’t handle other men touching you.”

I figured that would freak her out, but she just giggles and clutches me tight, wrapping her thick thighs around me like I’m a lifeline. Like I’m something good.

She doesn’t even know.

She has no idea who she’s in bed with.

No idea that I’m the worst guy in this entire house.

How the hell did a pure thing like her end up under someone like me?

And then she murmurs near my ear:

Her body tenses, and that clueless, sweet voice cracks. “Grayson... will you be my boyfriend? Please?”