Chapter 10: The Visit
The two weeks that followed were a study in quiet agony. Nia went through the motions of her life—classes, shifts at the campus library, evenings with Cam—with the numb precision of an actor in a play she’d long since grown tired of. Her body had healed from the bruising, but the memory of that fullness had not faded; it had solidified into a constant, low-grade hunger.
Cam noticed her distance, but he misinterpreted it as stress. He was sweet, bringing her coffee, offering back rubs. Their sex became more frequent, as if Nia was trying to use it as an exorcism. She would close her eyes and chase a feeling that lingered just out of reach, a ghost sensation of being utterly conquered. Cam’s loving touches felt like being delicately traced with a feather when what her nerve endings screamed for was a brand.
The dinner invitation to the mansion was printed on heavy cream cardstock. A “family dinner,” Trez had called it. Cam was relieved. “See? They’re trying. They like you.”
The meal was a surreal exercise in normalcy. Trez, at the head of the long table, held forth on business and football, the picture of a benevolent patriarch. Jax was all easy smiles and brotherly claps on Cam’s shoulder. Not a single lingering look, not one double-edged comment was directed at Nia. They treated her with a polite, almost formal distance. She should have felt safe. Instead, the absence of their predatory attention felt like a vacuum, sucking at her resolve.
After dessert, Cam, emboldened by a few glasses of rich red wine, whispered, “Stay with me tonight. In my old room.”
He’d never asked that before. Their intimacy had always been in her space, a territory she could control. The mansion was their domain. But the wine buzzed in her veins, mingling with a desperate, reckless need to feel something—anything—that wasn’t this aching lack. She nodded.
Cam’s childhood bedroom was at the end of a long, carpeted hallway. It felt frozen in time, with trophies and team posters, a twin bed long ago replaced by a full. It was still a boy’s room, innocent. The irony was a sharp taste on her tongue.
He kissed her, his mouth tasting of wine and chocolate. His hands were more insistent than usual, the alcohol sanding down his gentle edges. He pushed her dress off her shoulders, his lips on her neck. Nia responded, her body operating on a familiar script. She let him lay her back on the comforter, the fabric cool against her skin.
He entered her with a smooth, practiced glide. It felt good. It always felt good. Cam knew her body, he paid attention to her rhythms. He moved in a steady, deep cadence, his breath hot against her ear, murmuring how beautiful she was, how much he loved her.
And she was floating outside of it, watching herself from the ceiling. Her hips rose to meet his, her nails dug into his back, but it was just mechanics. The pleasure was a muted, filtered thing. A song played through a thick wall. She could feel her own core clenching around him, but it was a shallow, polite grip.
The hunger, that yawning emptiness, began to howl.
It started as a whisper in her mind, then became a pulsing need in her cunt. She needed to be cracked open. She needed to be filled until she broke.
“Cam,” she gasped, her voice strange to her own ears.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Harder.”
He grunted, picking up his pace. It was a fraction more intense.
It wasn’t enough. The dam of her pretense broke. “No. Fuck me. Fuck me deeper. Harder. Come on, Cam, just… just wreck me. Please.”
He froze inside her for a second, his body going still. In the dim light from the hallway, his face was a mask of confused arousal. “Nia… what—”
“Don’t stop,” she begged, a frantic edge in her voice. She hooked her heels higher on his back, driving him deeper. “Just fucking pound my pussy. Make it hurt. I need it to… I need more.”
The crude words, so alien from her, acted like a spur. A dark flicker passed over Cam’s face—confusion giving way to a raw, uncharacteristic lust. He drove into her, his hips snapping harder, the bedframe beginning a soft, rhythmic knock against the wall. This was new. This was a Cam she didn’t know, one meeting her desperation with his own.
It tipped her closer. Pleasure, real and sharp, began to spike through the numbness. She was climbing, a frantic race toward release, using his body as a tool to silence the need. “Yes! Like that! God, don’t stop!”
With a choked shout, Cam shuddered, burying himself to the hilt as he pulsed inside her. His orgasm rocked through him, his weight collapsing onto her.
And just like that, it was over. The friction stopped. The fullness began to recede. The coil of tension in her belly, wound so tight, hadn’t snapped. It was stuck, throbbing with unmet demand.
A sob ripped from her throat. The emptiness was a physical pain, worse than before. She clawed at his shoulders. “No, no, no… I wasn’t there. Cam, please, I need to come. You have to make me come.”
He was breathing heavily, spent, bewildered. “I… I’m sorry, I thought you… I can use my—”
“It’s not enough!” she cried, the truth bursting out of her in a wretched wail. She was humping against his softening body, seeking friction, seeking anything. “I can’t… it’s not deep enough. I need it deeper. I need to be full. I need—”
The door opened.
Light from the hall silhouetted two massive figures filling the doorway. The scent of expensive cologne and cigars wafted in, cutting through the smell of sex and sweat.
Cam jerked his head up, scrambling to pull the sheet over them. “Jax? Uncle Trez? What the hell?”
Trez stepped into the room, Jax following, closing the door behind them with a soft, definitive click. Trez’s eyes, glinting in the low light, were not on Cam. They were fixed on Nia, on her tear-streaked face, on her naked breasts heaving in frantic grief.
“Sounds like you’re having some trouble, son,” Trez said, his voice a low rumble. He didn’t sound surprised. He sounded like a man arriving at an appointment he’d always known was on the calendar.
Jax leaned against the dresser, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. He looked at Nia’s desperate, pleading expression and let out a soft chuckle. “Told you she’d be pacing the fence line, Dad.”
Cam looked between them, his brain slowly trying to catch up. “What are you talking about? Get out. We’re… we’re busy.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Trez said, taking another step toward the bed. His gaze was a physical weight on Nia’s skin. “You’re busy. But she’s not finished.” He tilted his head, addressing Nia directly. “Are you, baby girl? That little cock left you hanging, didn’t it? Dripping and empty.”
Nia couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe. Shame and a terrifying, dizzying hope collided in her chest.
“Uncle Trez, stop it,” Cam said, a weak defiance in his voice. He tried to sit up, to shield her.
Jax pushed off the dresser. “Come on, Cam. Don’t be selfish. You heard her begging. You can’t give her what she needs.” He gestured dismissively. “Look at her. She’s fucking starving.”
Trez was at the side of the bed now. He reached out, not for Cam, but for the sheet Cam was clutching. With a slow, irresistible pull, he drew it down, exposing Nia’s bare body, the sheen of sweat and Cam’s release glistening on her inner thighs. Her pussy throbbed, exposed and aching under their combined gaze.
“She doesn’t want your gentle love, boy,” Trez said, his voice dropping to a predatory purr. “She wants to be fucked. She wants to be owned. She wants to be so full she forgets her own name.” He finally looked at Cam, and the kindness was gone, stripped away to reveal the brutal truth beneath. “And you’re going to watch. You’re going to learn how to please your woman. And then you’re going to share.”
Cam’s face went pale. “You’re insane. Nia, tell them—”
Nia turned her head. She looked at Cam, his eyes wide with hurt and confusion. Then she looked at Trez, at the promise of obliteration in his eyes. The hunger won.
A single, tearful gasp escaped her. Then she gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.
It was all the consent Trez required.
“Good girl,” he breathed, the words a dark benediction. He undid his belt, the sound of leather sliding through loops like a gunshot in the silent room. “Now get on your knees. Show your boyfriend what you’ve been craving. Show him what a real cock looks like.”