“I’m not wet. You are.”
He smirks and draws back, leaving me without the touch of his cock. Kneeling between my legs, he swipes his fingers up the seam of my lips, then pushes those same fingers into my mouth.
“Taste yourself,” he orders. “Those are your fuck juices. That’s what you taste like when you want to be taken.”
I bite down. My teeth catch his fingers sharply. He curses and the other big hand comes down between my thighs with a swift slap right to my pussy.
“Ow!” I scream and cry out, but there’s no respite now. The hand that was in my mouth wraps around my throat. The other continues to whip my pussy, his fingers slapping my slit over and over again, making me buck and wail.
“Don’t you ever show signs of aggression,” he snarls. “I can hurt you far more than you could ever hurt me.”
I shriek and cry out as he whips my sex with his fingers. The sharp pain in my most sensitive spot is far crueler than what I inflicted on him, but what else should I expect?
Mattias enters the room. “Is everything alright?”
“Little bitch bit me,” the sheriff says. “I’m teaching her a lesson.”
He gives me another slap, and pinches my sore clit. I yowl, my hips bucking as he squeezes that sensitive spot.
“I should hold you down and fuck you until you cry,” he snarls at me. “Be glad you’re still worth more to me than that.”
“Apologize, Trissa.” Mattias says, his arms folded over his chest.
“Owwww! I’m sorrry!” I’ll say anything to make the spanking stop.
As soon as I say the word, it does. The sheriff’s hand stops slapping my pussy, and instead a finger pushes inside it.
“Look at that,” he growls as he pulls it free. “The wild girl has a taste for pain.”
He holds his finger up, and we all see that it’s gleaming with my juices.
“Now lick these off nicely, and thank me.”
He pushes his finger back into my mouth, those slate gray eyes daring me to bite again. This time, I let my tongue lap at his finger. The taste isn’t unpleasant. It’s mild and unlike anything I have ever tasted before. But the shame of knowing it is my own juices being smeared over my tongue, and the knowledge that this is the least of the perverted things he intends to do to me makes me blush with fresh humiliation.
“Good girl,” he says more gently, pushing the finger back inside me. I like the way it feels. I like how my sore, spanked clit responds.
“I will hurt you if you disobey me,” he says. “And I will probably hurt you even if you don’t, because this pussy is wetter than it was through all those nice kisses and caresses, isn’t it.”
I look over his shoulder, at Mattias. I don’t know what I’m looking for. Help? A cue?
Mattias gives me a brief nod and the hint of a smile. I get the feeling I might be okay. Maybe. I don’t know. I am so confused by this treatment, and by the way I am reacting to it. What the sheriff did to me hurt. My pussy still aches. And yet, I am aroused. More aroused than I have ever been.
Do I want him?
Do I maybe even need him?
Is this what a man does to a woman?
“Almost a pity I sold you,” he murmurs again. “But contracts are contracts, aren’t they, girl?”
I don’t know how to answer him, so I stare mutely as he pushes his thick finger in and out of me. Sensation is building; the same sensation that made me feel so very good when Mattias touched me, except now it is heightened, even more intense, because I do not like this man.
I do not like him at all, but I am going to come for him.
His fingers are working me toward an orgasm I don’t understand, but can’t resist. When his thumb taps the button of my clit, the same sore little place he spanked when I bit him, I explode into climax. My head falls back, my thighs shake, my senses whirl as I close my eyes and escape into pleasure.
When I open my eyes again, he is standing at the end of the bed. His hands are on his hips, his tall body casting a shadow over my quivering form.
“She comes nicely,” the sheriff drawls to Mattias. “She won’t have any problems with the others.”
He looks down at me. Those silvery eyes that hold so much potential cruelty are pleased, for the moment. “You’re going to take them eagerly, I reckon. They’ll have you wet whether you like it or not.”
I don’t know what to say, or what to do with myself. I am at this beast’s mercy. He owns me. He has sold me. More men will be coming to take me. And I will have no choice in it.
As the orgasm fades, panic starts to set in. This is not the life my mother or my father wanted for me. They gave me the gift of freedom and now I have squandered it. It is only a matter of time before that fragile piece of skin hiding up inside me is torn from me by a man I do not know, a man who wishes me to bear a child who will likewise never be free.
Pleasure means nothing in this moment, as I lie there under the gaze of a creature so foul he is barely human. Orgasm leaves me defiant. He can make me come, but he will not claim my soul. He will not win. And not a single one of the men he has sold me to will ever so much as lay a finger on me.