ᴇQᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴅᴇʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ

𝟮

Warning Graphic Content

Desiree POV

I tugged on his pants pulling them down, he gripped my hair pulling me back up roughly

"Oh, so you're one of those guys, you like it rough," I said while licking his neck.

''Don't talk about other guys in front of me'' He growled, and grabbed my neck with one hand and the back of my head with his other hand and pressed his lips against mine he was kissing me slowly and gently as if he was savouring the moment taking his own sweet time, our lips on each other, our tongues moving in sync it's like we were matched for each other, then we started fighting for dominance, our tongue entwined with each other fighting for the upper hand until he gently bit my lip allowing me to just give in to him.

He roughly captured my lips putting a little pressure on my neck and choking me, I moaned feeling my pussy getting wet. I felt my heart beating faster, until he pulled away, looking at me, and it was as if he was looking into my soul.

"Wow, I never thought kissing someone would make me this wet," I said pushing my hand in my panty using two fingers, I take my hand out my juices were running down my finger.

He touched my hand and pulled it towards his mouth and began sucking on wet fingers while looking me in the eye. He pulled me into him and kissed my neck, trailing his mouth over my neck, sucking licking and biting my sweet spot. I moaned softly as he ravished my neck, and my breathing became harder, and I knew for a fact that is drenched.

He pulled off his shirt, putting his torso on display, he wasn't all that buff or scrawny. My eyes trailed from his slender shoulders to his pecs, and his pink nipples, and travelled further down his flat lean tummy. His toned abs. I stopped at his v line, I bit on my lower lips admiring him.

He lifts me and placed me on the counter then began sucking on my neck once more, as he caresses my thighs, he rubbed my covered clit, and I began moaning as I felt my leg shake at his touch.

"I dreamt of fucking you so many times Kkoch, thrusting my dick in your tight little pussy" he said hoarsely, his voice had my legs feeling weak and my pussy throbbing.

"Please, pl-please Kaito" I moaned while trying to grind my pussy on his hand, trying to get some type of friction, but he moved his hand away, teasing me.

"What Kkoch?" He asked whispering in my ears, "What do you want?" He asked again, licking and sucking on my earlobe, that right there is one of my weaknesses.

"Play with my pussy, not my emotions, fuck me!" I said breathing heavily, with my head resting on his shoulders.

"I see you're with another whore again, Kaito. Oh, and this time, a Black one."

The voice was deep and laced with disdain. I turned toward the kitchen, my eyes landing on a middle-aged man. He was undeniably handsome, a refined, older version of Kaito, but that didn't excuse the way he just called me out of my name. Sure, I slept around, but did he have to throw it in my face like that? Damn.

Kaito's reaction was instant—sharp, protective, like a knife cutting through the tension.

"She's not a fucking whore, Father!" he shouted, his voice filled with a rare kind of anger.

I blinked, momentarily stunned. No one had ever defended me before. Not once. The lump in my throat tightened, but I swallowed it down. I could feel my eyes getting wet, but I wouldn't cry. I refused to cry. Bad bitches don't cry. The mantra echoed in my head like a chant, steadying me.

Instead, I plastered on my famous smile and pressed a soft kiss to Kaito's shoulder, silently thanking him.

His father's hateful gaze bore into me, heavy, suffocating—but I blocked him out. Men like him weren't worth my time.

"Go upstairs, Desiree. You can wear one of my shirts from the closet," Kaito said, his voice softer now as he helped me off the counter.

I nodded, slipping away without another glance at the man still glaring at me. As I ascended the stairs, I could feel his eyes lingering on me, tracing the curve of my hips, and for the first time in a long time, my skin crawled.

"What do you want, Father?" Kaito's voice snapped behind me, cold and full of warning.

I didn't stay to listen. I reached the top of the stairs and glanced around. Three doors lined the hall. I pushed open the first one.

"Wow... guess this is his bedroom," I murmured.

The room was massive, exuding a quiet, masculine elegance. The bed was draped in cream-white sheets, the thick carpet beneath my feet a deep black, plush and soft. The wallpaper matched the bedding, giving the space a sleek yet warm atmosphere.

I let out a breath, walking toward the bed. Without thinking, I sprawled across it, sinking into the comfort, exhaling as my eyes fluttered shut.

For the first time in a long time, I felt... safe.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Graphic Child Below

"You're good for nothing. A useless little girl. All you're good for is being a punching bag and spreading your legs."

His voice boomed through the small room, each word dripping with disgust. Then came the belt. The sharp crack of leather against my skin echoed in my ears, followed by a searing pain that felt like fire slicing through my back. My knees dug into the cold floor, bruised and raw from hours of this.

I bit down on my bottom lip, hard enough to taste blood. I knew better than to cry out—he liked it when I screamed. When I showed weakness.

"What are you?" he barked, the belt coming down again.

A sob tore from my throat before I could swallow it. My body trembled. My vision blurred.

"I'm..." My voice wavered, breaking apart like my spirit. "I'm good for nothing... all I'm good for is—s-spreading my... legs."

Silence.

Then a satisfied sigh. "Good girl," he murmured, dropping into his worn-out chair—the throne, as he called it. "Remember, Uncle knows best."

I barely heard him over the ringing in my ears. My body ached, throbbing in places that never healed. My mind floated somewhere far away, somewhere safe. Somewhere where I wasn't here.

"Come here, little girl."

Dread crawled up my spine.

I stared at the ground, my breath hitching. My feet refused to move, but I knew resistance only made it worse.

Mom, I miss you. I'm scared.

Every July since I was nine, she left me here, smiling as she kissed my forehead. She always told me I was lucky to have family willing to help. That Uncle Brandon was doing her a favor while she worked to keep us afloat.

She didn't know. She couldn't know.

He made sure of that.

At first, he was nice when she was around, all warm smiles and kind words. Then she left. Then the locks clicked into place. Then the monster emerged.

The candy always came first, the promises, the threats. He said he'd kill her if I ever spoke a word. That no one would believe me.

And I believed him.

Another slap cracked against my cheek, snapping my head to the side.

"Spacing out again, little bitch?" His voice slithered through the haze of pain.

I blinked back the tears burning my eyes, pressing a hand to my stinging skin. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

But sorry never made it stop.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

"Desiree, Princess" I heard a familiar, soothing voice pulling me from out of my nightmare.