The Good Girl (17 page)

She moaned in response, her hips bucking up against my hand and I hissed in a breath at the sheer beauty of it. Pumping my hand in and out, I reached around and pushed my other hand between her breast and the bench. I squeezed the nipple between my fingers and brought my mouth down to the center of her back, softly kissing up her spine.

“Cunt. I want you in my cunt.”

I chuckled and wished I could see the grimace I knew existed on her face as a result of it.

“In that case, I’ll take your mouth. It’s something you want and I’m done being generous.

Pulling my hand free, I straightened my posture – then slapped her as hard as I could. She yelped in pain, but settled again, her back moving frantically from the excitement that ran through her body. I rubbed my hand over the red mark on her ass and I smiled at the beautiful color of her skin.

Rounding the bench, I stood so that I was facing her, bending down so I could stare into her eyes. Tears fell down her cheeks and she moved to look away, but I grabbed her face and forced her back to mine.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because I hate you.”

I laughed. “You don’t hate it when I fuck you.”

She diverted her eyes and I allowed her the small indiscretion. After a tense few moments of silence, she quietly added, “That’s because I hate myself.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

~ Eleni ~

I hated him. I hated myself. I hated my life.

The voices were louder than ever and there was nothing I could do about it because I’d finally figured out what I needed to do to survive. I listened, I obeyed, and I let him have his way with me; let him battle his demons while he ravaged me day in and day out.

But what I hated the most was the fact that my body loved every minute of his touch. It responded on its own and the voices encouraged it; telling me that this was right, this was what I wanted.

His dick pressed against my lips and I willingly opened for him. I knew if I didn’t accept him there would be hell to pay. A new black eye, a new cracked rib, or worse. My tongue swirled around the head of his cock and he let out a groan.

“That’s my good girl, Eleni. I love your mouth on my cock.” I blinked rapidly trying to push away the tears that were flooding my eyes again. No matter how much I tried to push away the thought of everything he had done to me, I wanted to do this for him. I wanted this to be good for him, and I wanted the reward in the end; him getting off down my throat and forcing me to swallow every last drop. And maybe, just maybe… if I did, he would return the favor. My cunt throbbed at the mere thought of his mouth lapping my sweet juices.

His dick pushed to the back of my throat and I took every inch he gave with no complaint - no gagging - because that made him mad. I’d become an expert in deep throating simply because I had no other choice. But the sexual training was a turn on, it always had been; long before Gabriel had set his sights on me.

Each day had been the same. He pressed me about my life, my past, finding a way to make me cry; forcing me to open up about my painful past just to break me down. He broke my soul and he broke my spirit. Once I crumbled, he moved in to comfort me in the only way I knew. For him it was about power, for me it was about the idea that someone loved me enough to touch me in a sexual manner. I knew sex wasn’t about love, but it was the closest I’d ever come to it, or ever would. I was deluded and foolish to think this was about anything more than sexual gratification. But, the one quiet voice of the pack told me to believe something good would come of all of it.

I was trying to believe her.

“Eleni, this mouth of yours…” He trailed off trying to force a compliment, but I knew it is impossible for him. In my own mind, I would come up with something that would keep me going for the next couple days. Something nice, pleasant, something that would give me hope to believe he wasn’t going to kill me that night.

I let out a moan as my mouth was still tightly wrapped around his dick, squirming as I was still attached to the bench. I needed some kind of relief and when I felt Gabriel’s balls slowly start to draw upward, I knew it wouldn’t be long until my mouth had completed its job of getting him off. I would be rewarded with his load. I deep throated his cock one last time as his fingers laced through my hair and pulled my mouth to the base of his cock as he unloaded down my throat. His grunts filled the air in the empty room and I knew I’d done exactly what he wanted.

Because, at that moment, I was his Good Girl. 

He slowly withdrew his cock from my mouth, taking it in his hand and slowly began stroking it to life once again. I knew what was coming next. It was my turn. He would reward me for doing as he asked. I never gave into the urge to bite his dick like my voices had cheered me on to do. They always wanted me to defy him. Put my own life in jeopardy. Assholes.

“Now it’s your turn, Eleni.” He rounded my waiting body, still restrained, just the way he liked it. No fear of me touching him. No worry of me having the slightest bit of control. No matter when he fucked me, it was always this way. I dreamt of a time when I would be able to have my hands free; to run them down his back and grab his sculpted ass as he slammed into me. I wanted to run my fingers through his dark hair and kiss and suckle up and down his neck as I came all over his throbbing cock.

I shook my head at the thoughts. They were wrong. They weren’t what he wanted.

“What are you thinking, beautiful?” I could never tell him. He wouldn’t allow it. He would punish me for the mere thought of defying him. I shook my head and tried to leave it at that, hoping he would accept that for an answer; but as usual, he didn’t. I should have known better than to get caught up in my own delusions.

My voice was quiet when I confessed, “I was thinking about touching you.”

The crack of his hand across my face was painful. But I wanted more. I wasn’t scared of his pain anymore; at least that was what I tried to tell myself.

“How would you touch me, Eleni?” he asked.

He was baiting me, He was so confusing - hot and cold – always so hot and fucking cold.

It was impossible to read him, which is why I stopped trying to a week before. His hand grabbed my jaw and he spoke slowly as his eyes held mine hostage. “I asked you a question little girl, and I will know if you are fucking lying to me. Be a Good Girl and tell me how you would like to touch me.”

“I was thinking about kissing you; licking you as you make me come. Grabbing your ass as you slam into my cunt. I just want to feel you Gabriel.” He smiled at me, that wicked smile I’d come to be afraid of; and, at that moment, I knew I’d fucked up.

“Oh, my beautiful Eleni, you are going to feel me.”

He moved back around me, and without any foreplay, he slammed into me. Most days he took his time licking my cunt before shoving himself inside. I thought he had an obsession with it; but at this stage of the game, I had no idea why he did what he did.

He slammed in and pulled out again. He repeated this as I screamed from the pain mixed with pleasure. He wasn’t gentle as he took me. His hands squeezed my ass as he continued his painful pace.

“You feel that, Eleni? Is that feeling enough for you?” I cringed at his words. I should have never told him what I was thinking; but he would have known if I lied.

I tried to push my own feelings away, but the faster he pumped me, the closer I came to my own orgasm. My body was a traitor. No matter how much I shouldn’t have want this with him, I wanted it anyway. I wanted every fucking second of his abuse. I wanted to feel him fuck me until I couldn’t walk.

His pace slowed and he jerked in place; his hot seed flooding into my cunt for the first time.

“How was that, beautiful? Did you get what you wanted?” He chuckled as he pulled himself free. “I guarantee you that you’ll feel that all damn day.”

Chapter Thirty

~ Gabriel ~

Unstrapping her from the bench, I chuckled when I watched her stumble off, barely able to move due to the pain between her legs. She amused me in so many ways, a toy for me to play with – a puzzle for me to figure out.

I didn’t mean to hurt her and, most times, I attempted to keep from marking her for the sole purpose of keeping her beautiful for my eyes. An ornament or trophy – a woman that I’d plucked from the streets after learning everything I could about her. She owed me this because she was part of what ruined my life to begin with.

“Stand up. I don’t have the fucking time for your histrionics. You’re stronger than that, beautiful girl.”

Her eyes peeked up at me from beneath her lashes, but she pushed up – grimacing as she brought her legs together.

“Be careful what you wish for; you may just get what you’re after.”

I smiled and she swallowed hard before weakly returning the gesture.

“What do you say, Eleni?”

“Thank you.” Her voice cracked and I stepped towards her, grabbing her face by her chin and angling her face to look directly at me.

“Thank you for what?”

“For making me feel good. For rewarding me for being good.”

A wicked grin spread across my lips and I allowed the tip of my tongue to roll along the soft skin, before finally asking, “Are you ready to discover more about yourself today?”

Tears welled in her eyes and I knew that stripping her for my amusement was cruel; but, with my help, she’d remained sober – and with hers, I’d remained sane.

Hesitantly, she replied. “Yes.”

“Walk behind me then. I have a special surprise. One I think you will enjoy. I’m actually glad that you said you wanted to feel me. I want you to feel me too.”

After we moved out of the room and down the hallway, I led her to the stairs that climbed to the second and third floors. She moved slowly because she was newly fucked and I reduced my pace to accommodate her. I wanted her attached, I wanted her helpless, but I didn’t want her completely broken. To do so would make this part of the game boring – it would reduce her to nothing more than an automated object that was programmed to say and feel everything that I wanted. Every once in a while, I enjoyed seeing the fight still in her. It turned me on to see strength still hidden away; peeking out when I’d pushed her too far.

“Tell me about what you were going to school for, Eleni.”

She was quiet for a few seconds and I glanced behind me to see why she’d not responded. Her eyes widened when she noticed I’d looked and she quickly spoke in order to appease my curiosity.

“I – I was going to college for art therapy.”

“You like art?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it heals. In a round about way, it helps those that can’t express themselves because of some affliction – be it mental or physical – or it helps brings things out of people that they may not know exists. Sometimes, by looking at a piece of art – it’s like you can see through it into the artist’s soul; kind of like a window.”

“Give me an example. I’m not sure I know what you mean.” I knew exactly what she meant, but I was interested to see the artist she would choose to use as an example.

She was silent as she thought and I granted her the few minutes she needed to come up with someone to use in order to prove her belief.

“Okay…take Jackson Pollock, for instance. And I’m going by what I was taught in class, so don’t take this as absolute fact…most of it is conjecture anyway. I mean, who can really say what art means when seen from a subjective standpoint…”

“You’re rambling, Eleni. Focus on what it is you want to say and show me how intelligent you can be.”

I turned suddenly, slipping my hand over her neck and squeezing just enough to frighten and warn her at the same time. “You know I like things to be straight and to the point. I don’t have time for your musings.”

She nodded, swallowing hard so that her throat worked against the palm of my hand.

I released her and turned to continue our walk, listening to what she had to say.

“Pollock was an alcoholic…”

I chuckled at the irony, but waved her on to continue.

She breathed out a deep sigh and continued.

“He was an abstract painter and his method was anything but ordinary. He would lay a canvas down on the floor and hurl paint at it; yet, somehow, he was able to do so in a way that it resembled mathematical fractals – chaos. His work is extraordinary to say the least, but it was what he said about how he painted that drew my attention.”

My silence was all it took for her to continue talking.

“He didn’t remember painting the work, so – to me at least – it seemed like it was his soul being poured out in those moments, the chaos inside him being given an outlet for release. It didn’t save him – and his alcoholism eventually led to the car accident that killed him…”

I flinched at her mention of the accident. I was familiar with Pollock, familiar with the similarity between his demise and that of the people who killed by family; but, having pushed those thoughts away, the sudden reminder was enough to shock my system.

She knows. She mocks you. She only laughs…

I breathed in a steadying breath, concerned that the silence I’d enjoyed for so many days had suddenly been disturbed.

“Stop talking, Eleni.”

“But I wasn’t done…”

Her scream as she fell back down the stairs took me by surprise and I looked down at my outstretched arm not remembering exactly how hard I’d struck her.

“Dammit, Eleni. Why the fuck did you have to keep talking?” My statement came out on a growl and every muscle in my body tensed. I felt like a fucking monster, beating on this girl and then taking the pleasure from her body afterwards.

I couldn’t focus on those feelings; they would only bring back the nightmare of whispers and screams that I was trying to escape. After blaming her for the abuse, I shrugged and understood that her pain had been worth it when the silence in my head returned.

“Pick yourself up, Eleni, and it would be in your best interests to remember that when I tell you to stop talking, you better shut that pretty little mouth of yours.”