TAINT ME, DADDIES

6: Lose My Number

MAISE

I got back home on shaky legs.

The s*x had gone on and on till I couldn't take it anymore. When we finally finished, I expected the awkwardness to set in, but it took them looking at me like I was all their dreams come true and Ian calling me a good girl for that to dissipate. They cleaned me up and, in the process, couldn't resist fingering me till I came again and again. By the time they finally let me go, I've lost count of the number of orgasms I've had.

I sat in a trance at the back of the Uber they got for me, other thoughts suspended with the thoughts of what happened between us, the only thing on my mind. By the time I walked into the house, it was late, and I was grateful that no one was in the sorting room.

I slipped into my room, and my relief died the moment I saw who was in my room.

“Maisie, are you alright?” My brother crossed over to me and held me by my shoulders, “I've been trying to reach you for hours now, but you didn't pick up. Did you have an idea how worried I was? It's so unlike you to come back this late.”

Shame and regret washed over me. I couldn't even meet my brother's eyes. Here he was, worried about me because he thought something bad had happened to me while I was busy choking on his enemies’ c**k. The thought made me recoil. I couldn't believe I'd let it happen again.

“I'm sorry. I got carried away planning for the Christmas trip in the library,” I couldn't believe how easy it was for me to lie, “and I put my phone on dnd.”

He exhaled loudly in relief, “Just always let me know you're okay, hmm?” His hold tightened on my shoulders. “With the nonsense our parents are trying to pull, I can't be sure they won't whisk you away without your permission.”

I wanted to say that they won't do that to their child, but forcing me into an engagement was already terrible enough, and Dad would do anything to fuel his propaganda of being better than the Vanderbilt family.

“You don't have to worry about a thing. Just pretend to go ahead with whatever they're planning, but I promise you that you're not going to marry that man.”

“What are you going to do?”

He squeezed my shoulders before he let go, “Don't worry your pretty head, Maisie.”

“Don't do anything stupid, Knox.”

He smiled, but it was a broken little expression before he walked away. He stopped at the door and turned back.

“You look replenished by the way. It's beautiful to see, seeing how these last few days have left you drained. I'm glad planning the Christmas event is doing that to you. You should keep it up.”

With that, he slipped out of the room while my heart hammered painfully in my chest. I wasn't replenished because of the Christmas event; I was replenished because his enemies had spent the last hour showing me heights of pleasure that I never knew were possible.

I was such a terrible sister. The weight of what I had done settled heavily on my shoulders as I had my bath. Fine, the s*x was phenomenal, and I wanted them too. It killed me to admit it, but I wanted everything they had to offer. I wanted them to brand me, to f**k me till I was a quivering mess. I wanted them to ruin me for other men. I wanted everything and much more.

But it was inconceivable for a Hawthorne to be with the Vanderbilts like that. I couldn't care less about my father's feelings because he doesn't care about mine when he sold me into an engagement to a man I've not even met. But I cared about Knox. It'd break him to know I even allowed one of them to touch me.

It was the both of us against the world and I should respect that.

With that resolution, I stepped out of the bathroom with my white towel wrapped around my body, only to see my phone pinging continuously. I thought it was probably from the Christmas planning groups, but when I picked it up, Princess💦 was sitting at the top of my chat.

The profile picture caught my attention, so I clicked it. It was a picture of what he sketched earlier. In the sketch, I looked slutted out and messy. My head fell back, eyes half closed in ecstasy, mouth dropped open in a silent moan, and my face contorted into all shades of pleasure.

Seeing myself like that made me wet. I mentally cussed. I blamed them. I blamed their hot bodies, skillful tongues, deceptive words, and expertise that made me forget that I shouldn't want them.

I opened the chat, forced myself not to read their messages as I typed.

Tonight was another mistake. It shouldn't have happened, and it won't happen again. Lose my number, Vanderbilts. Find another girl to obsess over.

I sent the message to the group. Didn't wait for them to reply before exiting it.

Now I hoped they got the message loud and clear and would leave me alone.