I Wanna Undress You
1709 Words
~Olive~
“…Richard will you take Diane under your protection, under your name, under your blood.”
“I do.”
She’s crying happy tears.
I do.
Across the arch, Cas is watching me notice. Our eyes lock over my mother’s bowed head and his face cracks for one second—yes, you felt it and then Richard slides the ring on and the garden erupts and Cas’s face shuts like a door.
It’s done.
The worst man in America is my stepfather.
****
The reception is hours. I make it through ninety minutes before my skin feels too tight and my thighs keep pressing together under the table like they’re trying to solve a problem I refuse to name. I escape upstairs.
I lock the door. I press my hands flat on the cold sink and stare at myself: pink dress clinging to my breasts, soft hair, my dad’s eyes in my mother’s flushed face. I breathe.
In four. Hold seven. Out eight.
In four.
Hold.
The doorknob turns.
I locked it. I know I locked it.
It opens anyway.
Crew Hayes steps inside, eyes locked on mine in the mirror, closes the door behind him, and turns the lock.
“Hi, kitten.”
“Crew.” I don’t turn around. I keep my hands on the sink like it’s the only thing keeping me upright. My eyes stay on his reflection like a hostage. “How did you—that was locked.”
“It was.”
He leans one shoulder against the wall, hands sliding into his pockets, that lazy, dangerous ease that makes my stomach flip. “Saw you go up. Thought I’d check on you.”
“With your girlfriend downstairs.”
“Mm.” He doesn’t even blink. “She’s three glasses of champagne deep, telling Aunt Lila about her brand. We have time.”
“We don’t have anything, Crew.”
“Okay.”
That throws me. no kitten purr, no move. Just okay. It’s worse than anything.
I finally turn around.
He’s still there, shoulder to the wall, hands in pockets but his eyes are darker now, hungrier. I watch his throat work as he swallows. My n*****s tighten against the thin silk of my dress and I hate how obvious it must be.
“So what do you want, Crew.”
“To check on you.”
His gaze drops slowly down my body, then drags back up. “I meant it.”
“Mm-hm.” I cross my arms under my breasts..another mistake. His eyes flick there again, longer this time, and I feel it like a tongue. “Try again.”
He laughs. “Fine, kitten. Truth? I watched you sit through dinner with your spine like steel and that polite little smile and your thighs squeezing together under the table like you were trying not to soak through your panties. Figured if you weren’t going to come up for air, somebody had to come get you.”
My face burns. “And that somebody had to be you.”
“Yeah.”
“Not your brother.”
“Why.”
He pushes off the wall. One step. Then another.
“Because my brother already had his hands on you kitten. And every time he gets to you first, it f*****g burns.”
The bathroom shrinks.
“There’s nothing for either of you to have.”
“Mm.” Another step. “Keep saying it. Maybe your p***y will believe it eventually.”
I’m not backing up. He’s a foot away now, close enough that I can smell him. My c**t throbs once, hard, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stay quiet.
“Crew.”
“Yeah.”
“Step back.”
“You step back.”
“I’m against the sink.”
“Mm.” His eyes glitter. “Convenient.”
He’s right there. Not touching, but close enough that the heat of his body licks over my skin. I can see the faint flush on his cheekbones, the way his pupils have swallowed the color in his eyes. I can see the thick outline of his c**k pressing against his slacks.
He reaches up, giving me every second to stop him and brushes his thumb along the underside of my jaw. Just that. One knuckle of skin.
I forget how to breathe. My lips part on a shaky inhale and his gaze drops to my mouth like he wants to devour it.
“Tell me to stop, kitten.”
“Stop, kitten,” I whisper back, mocking, desperate.
His mouth twitches. “Cute.”
“Stop, Crew.”
“You sure?”
His breath fans over my lips. Half an inch. I can feel the heat of his mouth, the ghost of what it would feel like if he closed the distance and licked inside me.
He stills. “That’s what I thought.”
“Tell me something honest, kitten.”
His thumb strokes again, slower. “What did my brother say to you in the foyer.”
My thighs tremble. “Why?”
“Because you’ve had that f****d-out look on your face all night. And I need to know whose words put it there.”
I’m dripping. I can feel it sliding down my inner thigh under the dress.
…he said it was a problem. For both of us.”
Crew’s thumb freezes under my jaw. His breath fans hot across my lips.
“And?” he asks.
My face burns. My thighs are trembling. I can feel fresh slick sliding down my inner thigh as I whisper the filthy lie.
“Your brother said he wants to rip off my dress and f**k me. Right there against the wall in the foyer. That he’s been hard since he saw me. That he’d bend me over, shove my panties to the side, and make me take every thick inch until I’m creaming around his c**k and crying his name.”
Crew’s pupils blow black. His c**k twitches visibly in his slacks, thickening even more, the fat head pressing against the fabric like it’s trying to reach me.
“f**k,” he breathes. His thumb strokes my jaw again, slower, possessive. “He said all that?”
I nod, lips parted, breathing shallow. “He looked at me like he already owned my pussy.”
Crew’s other hand comes up, braces on the sink beside my hip, caging me without touching. His voice drops even lower. “And what did you say back, kitten?”
I bite my lip. My c**t is throbbing so hard it hurts. “I… I didn’t say anything. I just stood there getting wetter while he talked about stretching me open.”
A low, dirty sound rumbles in his chest. “Jesus Christ. You’re soaked right now, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve been wet since the foyer. And then you walked in here…”
He leans in until his mouth is right at my ear, voice a filthy whisper. “Tell me how wet. Be nasty about it.”
I shiver. “My panties are ruined. I can feel it dripping down my thighs. Every time you look at me my p***y clenches like it’s begging for your cock.”
His exhale is shaky. “Good girl. You want me to touch you?”
I whimper. “Yes.”
“Say it properly.”
“I want your fingers in my soaked little cunt, Crew. I want you to feel how tight and sloppy I am for you and your brother.”
He groans softly, forehead almost resting against mine. “You’re going to kill me, kitten. I’m so f*****g hard it hurts. My c**k is leaking for you. I’ve been dripping pre-c*m in my boxers since I saw you come down those stairs in this dress.”
I glance down between us. The wet spot on his slacks is visible now, dark against the fabric. My mouth waters.
“You’re making a mess too,” I whisper.
“Yeah. Because I keep imagining bending you over this sink, flipping that pretty dress up, and burying my tongue in your dripping p***y until you’re grinding on my face and begging to come.”
My knees nearly buckle. “Crew…”
“Or maybe I’d just pull your panties down and slide in raw. Feel how hot and tight you are. f**k you slow and deep so you feel every inch stretching you open while my girlfriend is downstairs smiling for pictures.”
I moan quietly, hips rolling forward on instinct. “I’d let you. I’d let you f**k me right now.”
His hand tightens on the sink, knuckles white. “Don’t say that. Don’t tell me you’d let me ruin you in my father’s bathroom on his wedding day, you filthy little thing.”
“But I would.”
“I’d spread my legs and take it like a good stepsister. I’d bite my lip to stay quiet while you pump me full.”
Crew’s eyes flutter shut for a second, jaw clenched. When he opens them again they’re blazing. “You’re going to be the death of both of us. Cas wants to destroy this pretty p***y… and so do I. But not here.
Not like this.”
He steps back slowly, dragging his gaze over my body one last time..flushed face, hard n*****s, the way my thighs are pressed together trying to stop the dripping.
“Five minutes,” he says.
“Different stairs. Fix your face… and wipe that slick off your thighs before you sit down, or everyone’s going to smell how turned on you are.”
He unlocks the door but pauses, looking back at me with pure hunger.
“And Olive?”
“Yeah?”
“Tonight, when you’re in bed touching that needy little c**t… think about both of us. Because we’re both going to be stroking our c***s thinking about you.”
Then he’s gone.
I stand there shaking, p***y clenching uselessly, so wet I can hear it when I shift my thighs. My laugh is broken and horny as I stare at my ruined reflection.
“Moon goddess …I’m f*****g cooked.”
- Writer
