Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
I heard myself crying out Huck’s name, but it sounded like it was far off. I held on to his shoulders, and my knees buckled beneath me. One of his arms wrapped around my waist and held me up as more tremors racked through me, bringing even more pleasure as I moaned.
When I finally came back down from the world’s best orgasm, I remembered the gush between my legs, and I tensed. Oh dear God, had I peed on him? My eyes widened in horror, and I stared at him, expecting to see a similar expression.
He didn’t look disgusted or horrified. Instead, he was watching me with a feral-looking expression. I was still gasping for air. Dropping my eyes to between my legs, I saw the wetness running down my legs and some on the floor. That wasn’t normal.
I covered my mouth. “Oh God! What did I do?” I asked, although my words were muffled by my hand.
“You’ve never done that before?” Huck’s deep voice sounded surprised.
I couldn’t look at him. I shook my head.
“Not even during sex?” he asked.
I’d never had sex, but, no, that would have been traumatizing if I had. I doubted I’d ever let a man touch me again, for fear of doing it.
“God, no!” I said, panicked.
Huck ran his hand up my leg, and I winced as he touched the wetness. How was he not grossed out right now? This had gone from the best moment in my life to the worst. Okay, not the worst, but still humiliating.
“I’m sorry,” I told him.
“Trinity”—he said my name in a way that made my eyes snap up to meet his—“you’re a fucking squirter.”
If I could cry, I would. “What does that mean?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer. If it meant you peed during sex, then I was going to die a virgin.
He ran his hand up my thigh with that same savage look in his eyes. “It means, if I ever stick my dick in you, I might never be able to stop,” he said slowly. Then, he jerked his hand away from me like I was diseased before standing up. “Jesus Christ,” he growled, then stalked away from me.
“I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what that means, but I swear it’s never happened before. I’m sorry,” I told him. But then no man had ever made me orgasm before.
He spun around and looked at me. “You’re sorry?” he asked me. “Because you can fucking ejaculate? That I’m gonna think about you squirting on my dick all the damn time? Yeah, well, me too, baby. Me too,” he said, then headed for the door.
“Wait, I don’t know where you brought me. Don’t leave me here,” I begged, bending down to get my bottoms.
“Walk straight once you exit. The house is up ahead. We didn’t go far,” he replied, then swung the door open and stormed out as if he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
Did he mean ejaculate, like a man? Ewww.
I covered my face and sank down to the floor. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I began to rock. I couldn’t stop it. I wasn’t strong enough to fight it off.
Fourteen
Trinity
Thirteen Years Old
I waited until I was sure the house was empty before leaving my room. Roy was here for his winter break, but Tabitha had taken him to church with her. Dad always went when Roy was here too. I had to be careful what I got from the kitchen to eat though because Tabitha kept track of everything. I had to get things she couldn’t be sure of exact amounts on, like peanut butter, shredded cheese, dry cereal, that kind of thing. Also small amounts. I usually got a little of everything I could.
She’d told Dad that I wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to join them for breakfast. I was standing at the door, listening for him to enter the kitchen so I would be safe to go eat. But she’d stopped that. It smelled so good, and I almost went out there anyway just so I could have some. My fear of punishment later was all that kept me from it. I’d wanted some bacon, but not bad enough to be forced to eat it until I vomited, then forced to eat my vomit.
I took a spoon and filled it with peanut butter, then stuck it in my mouth. Turning to get a bowl for the cereal, I almost screamed when my eyes landed on Roy standing in the doorway, watching me. Why was he here?
I swallowed the peanut butter, but it went down like cement. “You aren’t at church,” I said as the dread coiled in my stomach.
He smirked. “Nope. Seems I wasn’t feeling well. Needed more sleep.”
Did my dad stay home then? Hope sprang in my chest. If Roy hadn’t gone, then Dad wouldn’t go. I wasn’t going to be locked in the closet in the basement for hours, sitting in my urine.