The Claiming of Sadie Graves
Read The Claiming of Sadie Graves Online
Authors: Angela Price
The Claiming of Sadie Graves
_________________
By Angela Price
Copyright@2013 Angela Price
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brand names and incidences are either a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, designers, brands, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
eISBN
: 978-0-615-75936-4
Cover design by Lacey O’Connor
Cover image @ Thinkstock
For Charles: giver of a thousand belly laughs;
my best friend, confidant and better half.
I’m glad you decided to keep me.
Table of Contents
“Just a Girl”
No Doubt,
Tragic Kingdom
Dusty Kennon
slipped into my room for the first time when I was thirteen. He is husband number two to my mom; younger and handsome. I’d followed my mom from D.C. to Oklahoma the previous summer for their wedding; leaving behind my dad and everything I knew.
There’s something about
Dusty that makes me want to stay out of his way, and I’ve kept a low profile since our move. He has short, medium brown hair and vivid blue eyes. His cattle ranch outside of Norman is huge, and employs a lot of men, but he’s always the boss. He’s the boss of my mom, too; she’s not anything like she was with my dad. I find myself resenting him. How can he make my mother so…shadowy? I didn't find out about his taste for innocence until later.
And later
just happens to be tonight.
I’m sound asleep on my double bed when he appears, as soundless as the night air. It’s
the middle of May, and already hot outside. I always sleep on my right side, and he positions himself behind me before I can react.
I don’t even have the presence of mind to know I should.
He lies down, cuddles my back, and strokes my shoulders and rib cage with a tenderness that wakes me up, unalarmed. “Wha?” I ask, barely out of dream state. “Shhhh”, he says softly. “Just relax. I’m going to rub your back.”
I almost fall back asleep, but there’s something in my subconscious that knows my stepdad shouldn’t be in my room at
two in the morning. Dusty’s fingers rub my shoulders, and slowly he drags my baby tee from my hips to my armpits. With that move, his body language goes from in control and relaxed to radiating pure excitement. I can feel him tense behind me, in more ways than one. He flexes his hips forward, and I feel his erection surge against my backside. I have never been this close to a grown man, and surely I’ve never been this close to Dusty.
I shift, even in my sleepy state knowing…something is wrong. Dusty pushes my tee shirt deep into my armpits and rolls me toward him. His face i
s right on level with my pubescent nipples, all baby pink and soft swell. He moans softly, and shifts my body to his lips, taking my right nipple in his mouth greedily. He sucks it, rolling the tip with his tongue, springing it to life. I open my eyes, confused. I can see the delight on his face from the glow of the bedside clock. “Oh, wait”, I whisper, scared all at once.
But it’s like he never even hears me. His thick fingers find my left nipple, rolling it between this thumb and index finger, a quarter-turn at a time, while sucking my other breast. I’m immediately coated in
a sheen of light sweat.
This is wrong. Why is it happening
? I move to get away, but he subdues me.
He holds me down, co
vering my legs with his own. He’s wearing only boxers, and I feel the hair of his legs against me, the warmth of his crotch against my leg. He’s sucking my nipple deep into his mouth, moving to the second one, and letting his hand dip to my stomach and below. He stops, pulling away from me to stare into my face.
“If you tell your mother I was here, I’m going to tell her how much you like this. And, you
’re going to love it, Sadie. In a week, you’re going to be begging me for it.” He smiles, wags his eyebrows, and rubs his stubbly face gently down my torso. He moves back up, pushes my breasts together, wraps his tongue around both nipples in turn, and heads south. I struggle with him; he’s moved his hands down by now to grip both my wrists. He’s strong.
He stops, irritated and angry.
“Sadie.” He hisses. “Do. Not. Fight. Me.” and I pause – knowing how cruel he can be to the horses, to the help, and to my mother. I’m afraid. I’ve never trusted him, and now he’s on top of me in my remote bedroom. I’m fully awake now.
“In fact, baby, I’m about to
show you something wonderful” he sighs. “No one’s going to know I’ve touched you. I’ll never leave a mark. But I’m going to enjoy you. Oh, shit. I sure am.” He moves between my legs, and pushes my flimsy underwear down to my thighs. When they are near my knees, he positions himself between my legs and pushes them up, so my lower body is wholly exposed to him. The tops of my thighs are resting on my torso, my feet slung over Dusty’s shoulders. “Mmmm. Sweetheart. Your pussy is sooo sweet. I’ve been thinking about it.” His eyes halfway closed, he looks at the petals of my sex, emerging from between my labia. And then he presses forward, his tongue exploring between the folds.
I can sense his triumph. He licks and sucks, soft sounds emanating from his throat. I squirm, now sweating with fear. He gains ground, pushing my thighs further apart. He is patient, oh my God; he doesn’t stop for long minut
es. He’s tuned to my breathing, and in no time I’m panting.
Finally, he find
s that spot between my legs that’s nothing but nerves. He makes an audible noise; almost as if he knows he has me now. I get very still. He lets go of my hands, and busies his fingers between my legs. I can barely breathe. He pushes one finger into me and rubs, but relentlessly licks and sucks that spot. His rough tongue teases, sucking me deep into his mouth three, four, five times. He stops, only to command. “Pinch your nipples. I want to watch you.”
As much as I hate him at this moment, I feel a wet rush of heat between my legs. Moaning softly, I obey, swallowing thickly. His mouth and fingers…oh.
Dusty’s saliva has trailed down my backside, and he rubs a knowing finger against the pucker of my anus. I tense under his tongue, fingers and body – loathing him to the core of my soul. He sucks my clit relentlessly. I look at him, disembodied, as he skillfully builds me to pleasure. I realize I’m whining softly. My body jerks with an orgasm that’s long and deep. He extends it with slow licks and pulls, never releasing my clit from his lips.
Finally he stops, and pushes himself toward me – his penis fully erect and ready.
“There’s no way I’m doing time for you, Sadie. Don’t you make a sound, now. I mean it. I know you liked that, baby – now it’s time for you to please me.” He gets up on his knees, yanking down his boxers. I close my eyes. I feel sick. I open them to see him rub his erection and spit in his hand. He eases me forward on the bed toward him, pressing my legs further apart. And then he pushes his erection up vertically against me, without entering me. He pulls on my labia, wrapping the lips of my sex partially around his erection. He uses his fingers to hold them in place. He rubs, and in the dim light of the clock I see the head of his arousal surge, cresting again and again against my little patch of pubic hair. He presses his shaft up and down until he is close to release. He never opens his eyes.
It doesn’t take long.
He holds his penis out, rigid, and a long rope of semen squirts out of its end, onto my belly and breasts. His eyes roll back into his head, and he strokes himself with abandon.
A minute later, he shoves a box of tissues towards me and tells me to clean myself up and flush them when I’m done.
There’s an unspoken threat; I’m not to tell anyone he’s been here. He expects me to be dead quiet. He leaves silently, like he came.
And that’s when I have a sickening realization; he’s going to be coming back to my room over and over.
Forever.
And he does. Of course, he does.
Seven months later, I board the plane to D.C. for the Christmas holidays. After two tearful phone calls, my dad has insisted. He can’t quite figure out my upset, but he says he can’t wait to see me. I have a small checked bag and a carry on backpack. I sit down in my window seat and lean into the plastic of the plane’s interior. Two silent tears leak down my cheeks, but no one looks at me. I’m never, in a million years, getting on the scheduled return flight to Oklahoma.
I figure we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.
I make a silent promise to myself; that I’ll never let another man touch me like that – like I don’t matter at all. That I’ll wipe my memory clean of what’s happened, and that I won’t ever discuss it.
I wonder if I can pretend that I’m the same, to everyone. He’s shown me every dirty thing that can be done without intercourse. I’m spoiled now.
Spoiled forever.
Sure, I escaped with my virginity. Isn’t that what matters?
Honestly,
I’m not so sure.
The plane speeds up and my stomach drops
; we’re airborne. We lift away from Oklahoma, miles of flat land visible from the plane’s small window. I’m hurtling toward safety, and away from the one person who can hurt me.
“I Will Not Be Broken”
Bonnie Raitt,
Souls Alike
Tuesday
dawns cold and sunny, and I’m not ready to wake up – as usual. But Tuesday is ‘trash day’ in my neighborhood, and the backup warning on the waste truck jars me out of a pretty sound sleep. My bedroom is on the third floor, but it’s unreal how the sound carries upward. I might as well be standing on the sidewalk. That’s New York for you.
I figure I’d better get moving, and the first thing on my mind is
the promise of a big glass of iced tea. I like mine with extra ice, a quarter of a lemon, and three Splendas. I wish I liked coffee, like the rest of America. But I guess all taste buds aren’t created equal, right? My morning routine is pretty simple, since I’m single and childless.
Boy, am I ever.
Get ready. Take the subway to work. Have a little fun with customers. Lather, rinse and repeat. That’s my life in a nutshell.