Shame still filled my voice and pulled at my lips.
“Evan, please,” I moaned. “You said we were done. You said –“
“That's sir to you from now on in this room. I don't give a shit if you use my name, actually, but the other bastard will. The sooner you start treating me like your new master, the better.” He rubbed, pressing through my slickness more insistently, enjoying the excitement in my hips. “Fuck, babe. Even more responsive than I thought. This is good news for both of us.”
I wanted to ask why. I also wanted to beg and plead to keep me from the other man, to offer myself to him.
But saying anything was impossible with his hand there, moving faster and fiercer, teasing horny flesh that had been denied for far too long.
Shocks ripped through my body. He parted me, collected my wetness, slathered its heat over my clit.
Did I ever think my first time with a man doing anything would be like this?
A thousand times no. This was beyond sin and anything I recognized as love, but my flesh wouldn't resist. I didn't have a prayer when his thumb covered my clit and began to stroke. His free hand moved up and his fingers caught my nipple.
He pinched and stroked and circled in matching rhythm, bringing two sensitive buttons to overload. I instinctively bucked against him, surrendering to his grasp. Once, I rocked into his lap and brushed against something hard.
Realizing it was his erection only fed the storm. I whimpered, moaned, and lost myself in his hands. I gave in, rolling my hips with his strokes, twisting into his wonderful fingers.
“You like that, babe?” He growled into my ear. “Course you do. You don't know what to think or feel or do with yourself. Well, I'll tell you: come for me. All you need to worry about is coming when I tell you to. I'm gonna make your little clit sizzle...”
He drew his fingers away, pressed them together, and slapped my folds to give his words life.
Oh, God, this couldn't be happening! It wasn't supposed to be like this, his touch giving me totally to the frenzy in my core.
“Fuck, baby, forget all this shit and come. Do it for me. I know you come beautiful.” His fingers were back, thumb and forefinger tightening around my clit as they swirled pure twisters. “Come, Cassie! Come your sweet brains out.”
My teeth sank together. I'd given myself orgasms before, often quick, alone, and always at night when my family couldn't hear. But to compare them to what he sent throttling into my system was no justice.
His hand worked me faster and his words kicked me into the storm building at my core. Screaming fire shot up my spine, hit my brain, and I lost control.
Muscles convulsed, my legs locked together around his hand, twitching and bucking at his magnificent touch. He played me, an expert in sex against the clueless novice.
No, a master.
I came hard, all muscles and shearing lighting, until the sweet climax turned everything blurry and white.
When it was over, I slumped in his arms, wincing as his fingers continued to dance around my folds. My hips shifted against his hard-on.
God, it was incredible, but it hadn't been enough. The climax hadn't relieved me, hadn't blown the insane desires swirling through my system. No, if anything they were stronger, and now I wanted to feel his bare flesh against mine. I wanted him to push into me deep and hard, turning me into white hot pleasure and limbs entwined with his.
I stupidly leaned in, begging for a kiss. He tipped his head and turned away. His fingers disappeared, and he got up. The coolness that replaced his heat was so cold.
Evan was leaving me.
“Hey, wait!” For the first time since this all happened, I yelled so loud my voice cracked. It was enough to stop him near the door. “Was fingering me what you came to do?”
He cocked his head, amused, folding his arms. “You're supposed to be a good girl. Where the fuck did you learn to talk like that?”
“I'm not as pure as you think. Neither is Beacon Grove.” I swallowed. “Why, Evan? Why'd you do it if you're giving me up to another man?”
It took him a few seconds to answer. “Because I needed to show your ass that good things come to girls who listen. It'll be the same with him. I'm doing my job – getting your pretty ass warmed up. Nothing else.”
I yelled after him again, but this time he wasn't stopping. He was gone, and the door slammed shut, loud and final as a vault cover clicking into place.
I never understood how I slept that night. Maybe it just found me, or the ordeal left me way more spent than I realized.
Evan left my flesh with a nascent hunger buried beneath the exhaustion. Hate and confusion lapped just as deep as lust.
In my dreams, I saw the Prophet. It was one of the first sermons he delivered and repeated many times after, not long after Daddy packed up Heather and me and dragged us away to Beacon Grove.