On her 21st birthday she’s taken. Collected by a rich family as an unpaid debt. Her body sold. Her mind his.
“You’ll like it … don’t worry,” he muses, stepping even closer so he can smell me.
I turn my head to the side while he sniffs me, trying to lean away, but it seems it only makes him come closer. He places a soft kiss on my neck, his tongue drawing a line upward toward my ear. Right before he nibbles my ear, he hovers in front of it, and for a second, I think I can hear him smile.
He hisses, “I love your smell. Your taste. They make me so fucking hard.”
Suddenly, his hand is on my breast, kneading, tugging, and twisting. Everything and anywhere, all at the same time. Sensory overload makes me gasp, and when my mouth opens, he covers it with his. He takes my breath quite literally, kissing me until my moan is silenced, kissing me with everything he has. His taste is familiar, intoxicating, and for a second, I forget that I’m even hanging here. His tongue expertly licks the roof of my mouth, his lips brushing mine with equal fervor.
“This is what I’ll take from you,” he murmurs into my mouth.
His free hand slides down my body and past my inner thighs, pushing my legs apart as he starts rubbing me. I feel humiliated. Used. Shameful, for actually feeling my pussy thump from having him touch me.
“Hmm … you like it when I touch you.” It’s not even a question.
“No …” I say, shaking my head.
He grins. “Yes, you do.” He pushes a finger on top of my clit. “Right here.”
I moan when he rubs it with his index finger and then brings his thumb into the play to roll my clit. Wetness is building inside me as my core clenches, desperate to fight off the arousal, but my body is a fool for his touch.
My mind has been deprived for too long, and when he offers me this release, I’m too weak to fight it. It crosses my mind that perhaps, if I give this to him, he’ll be more gentle with me. Maybe, if I give him anything he wants, he’ll let me go.
It might be a futile thought, but it’s here, and it’s not going anywhere.
“Don’t think I’m doing this for your pleasure, Sky.” He groans. “Oh, no. I’m doing this because I want to watch you writhe from my finger.”
Still twisting and pulling my nipples with one hand, he’s driving me crazy with lust, as the other expertly builds the desire between my legs.
“I’m going to watch you come, and you’re going to enjoy it, and then hate yourself for liking it. And tomorrow, we’ll do the same thing. And then again … and again …”
“Stop …” I moan.
Who am I kidding? He’s not going to, and I’m not even sure I want him to stop anymore.