Underestimated Part 15

He returned a few minutes later with a drink in his hand. "Hmm," he moaned, staring at my naked body. He caressed my breast and pinched my nipple.

"Do you want spanked first or would you rather I f.u.c.k your p.u.s.s.y?" he asked, gesturing his hand along the table of tools that he would use on me. The sick b.a.s.t.a.r.d was going to make me decide. He was going to do both, so it didn't really matter in my book.

"Spank me," I answered.

"You like it when I spank you, don't you, Morgan?" he asked as he ran his fingers up my s.e.x, sipping his drink.

Stupid, deserter, v.a.g.i.n.a.

"Answer me," he demanded, lifting my leg so that he could get a better view.

"Yes. Drew," I answered in a whisper.

He pulled an ice cube from his drink and held it over me. "Spread your legs. You like spreading your legs, that's why your p.u.s.s.y is always so wet. Did you know that, Morgan? Did you know that you get so wet because you love the things that I do to you?" he asked. I flinched a little at the ice-cold droplet of water on my c.l.i.t as I pulled both of my legs higher.

I hated what he did, but was he right? Was that why I always got so wet when he did the things that he did? Maybe I was as sick as him.

I could feel the bed becoming wet as the water droplets ran from my c.l.i.t to my opening, and onto the bed.

I was almost numb from the cold by the time the ice cube was gone. Drew sat his cup down, and my heart started to beat a little faster, antic.i.p.ating what was about to come.

He undressed and sat on the side of the bed. He was already harder than iron, and it stood at attention when he scooted back, making room for me on his lap. He looked over at me and moved his hand, letting me know what I needed to do.

I pulled myself up and lay across his lap. I could feel his shaft on my hip as he thrust it into me a little, needing the contact. He rubbed his hand over my bottom a couple of times and moaned.

"You may be a stupid hillbilly and not good for much, but sure am glad I have you around for this," he said, and I grimaced at the first blow to my bare cheeks.

He spanked me more and longer than he ever had, and I was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to stop. I could feel his welted handprints on my a.s.s, and I didn't think it could sting any more than it was.

Finally, he was bored with that and told me to get up. He laid long ways on the bed, and I stood there awkwardly waiting for his orders on what I was to do next.

"Lay down with your mouth level to my d.i.c.k," he ordered as he rolled to his side.

I did as I was told, and he put his leg over my head and guided himself into my mouth. He instructed me not to move my head and to just keep my mouth open while he f.u.c.ked it. We were both lying on our sides, and I gaged more than once as he held my head down with his leg and thrust in and out of my mouth with l.u.s.tful moans. I was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to tire of invading my mouth when he finally pulled out and rolled me to my back.

"Scoot up," he demanded. He stroked himself while he waited for me to get into position. He fastened my hands to the post and then my legs, which he didn't leave for very long because he said that I wasn't spread enough that way. He positioned my legs where he wanted them and demanded that I not move.

I wasn't sure what the first object that he took from the table was. I had never seen anything like it. It was a long thin metal rod with a wired loop on the end. I watched as he turned a k.n.o.b on the bottom of it and touched the small loop on his finger. He jumped when it came in contact with his finger, and he turned the k.n.o.b again.

Oh, f.u.c.k.

He ran his fingers into my wet folds and I writhed beneath his fingers, wanting release. He spread me open with his fingers, revealing as much as my swollen crux that he could. He brought the rod closer to me, and I held my breath waiting for what I knew was going to be some sort of shocking volt. He brought it to my s.e.x in a slow, leisurely motion and held it centimeters away from my c.l.i.t, wanting me to suffer the expectancy. He moved his hand over my waist and held me down with his forearm, still spreading me with his two fingers.

It was unquestionably some sort of electrical shock and the most painful yet pleasurable feeling I had ever felt.

I tried to jump back, but he held my hips with his arm. I moaned and writhed beneath him. The o.r.g.a.s.m was almost instant, and the shock brought me right to peak, and then stopped. After only three torturous contacts, I couldn't take it, and was begging for him to let me come. He didn't, of course, and I spent the next ten minutes being brought to ecstasy only to have it pulled away over and over again.

Drew finally placed the tool back on the table. He ran his fingers across my lips and asked me if I wanted to come.

No, I would rather you just torture me for hours.

"Yes," I moaned.

He slapped me between my legs with several quick smacks as he stroked himself. I could have come that way too, but I knew he wouldn't let me.

"You were a bad girl tonight. I am not sure I should let you come, but I am," he added, touching my lips again. He moved up and straddled my face. I didn't try to protest, and willing opened my mouth as he once again darted in and out of my mouth, making the most l.u.s.tful sounds that he could muster. I knew he was close, and he would come rather quickly. I was right.

"Stick your tongue out, Morgan," he rasped, frantically stroking himself on my tongue and lips. "Awe f.u.c.k yeah," he moaned as his essence released in bouts onto my tongue and down my throat as he made sure none was wasted or spilled out, using the head of his shaft to push it back in.

"Suck me clean," he demanded, going back into my mouth.

Once he was licked and sucked cleaned, he moved off of me, and retrieved another device from the table. All I could do was watch and wonder what the h.e.l.l was next.

He again restrained my ankles and pulled my knees strapping them to my restrained hands. He then took a black rod with straps on each end and some sort of silicone, rubbery thing right in the middle. I watched as he strapped the rod to my legs and then turned the smaller rubber rod. He adjusted the bar going from one leg to the other and explained that he had some work to do and would be back in later. He turned the object on, and it did a full turn only brus.h.i.+ng my s.e.x once every spin.

Son of a b.i.t.c.h...

It didn't hurt at all and felt incredible. It slowly slid all the up my slippery slit, but it wouldn't rest in one place long enough to do anything. I tried to twist into it, trying as it rotated, to get enough pressure to come. I had never in my life wanted anything as bad as I wanted to come at that moment. I felt like I was ready to pa.s.s out when Drew finally returned, I don't even know how much later.

He turned off the device and removed the rod. He touched my dripping juices, ma.s.saging it into me. I noticed that he was already at half-staff again as he rubbed me. I couldn't help but twist into his fingers, begging for release.

"Please, Drew," I begged and was actually crying from the painful sensations in my body.

"Riley," I heard my name and somewhat woke up enough to see that I was no longer with Drew and Dawson was in my bed.

"Dawson, I need to come, please," I begged, still panting from my nightmare with Drew.

"Ry?" he said, trying to figure out whether or not I was coherent or still back in time.

I was not with Drew, nor was I coherent. It was all still fresh and raw, and I did need s.e.xually stimulated right that moment. I knew what I was doing. I knew that I begged him to spank me, and to give it to me in the a.s.s, and to put his d.i.c.k in my mouth.

Dawson straddled my waist and held down on both of my shoulders, looking me straight in the eyes.

"I am not doing any of those things to you, Riley.

You are not that person, and I am never going to treat you like you are. You don't deserve that and I refuse to be that person for you," he demanded.

I am not sure whether it was because I was so s.e.xually frustrated or if it was the way that Dawson handled me, but I had the most unbelievable o.r.g.a.s.m of my life that night. Dawson made slow pa.s.sionate love to me, kissing me deeply and whispering that he loved me to my lips, over and over. When I would lose myself and venture back to Drew, he would stop until I was back, right there with him. When I came, it was mind blowing over the top, and I called out and writhed beneath him in much needed pleasure.

"Why do you put up with me?" I asked, nestled to his chest.

"Because I love you, go to sleep," he said to the back of my hair with a tone that I wasn't used to from him.

Dawson was up and sitting at the table with an almost angry look when I woke to join him the next morning.

I poured a cup of coffee and joined him.

"Good morning," I said, trying to read his mood.

"I need answers, Ry," he commanded.

"What are you talking about, sheriff?" I asked with a smile, trying to lighten his mood.

"I am talking about these nightmares that you have.

They are either about your little brother or about s.e.x. I want to know what happened to you. I want to know who Drew is."

I looked down. I wasn't going to answer either of those questions. I was too embarra.s.sed to tell him what I had done or where I came from. I would never explain how Drew bought and paid for me to be his s.e.x slave. I couldn't, and if that meant it would send him running for the hills, then so be it.

"Riley, please talk to me," he pleaded.

"I can't, Dawson," I said, quietly looking up to him, hoping that he understood. He didn't. He took a deep breath and got up.

"How about you call me when you can," he said, angry.

"f.u.c.k you. I have been threatened enough in my life. I am not going to be threatened by you," I spouted off before even thinking.

He walked back to me after sliding on his shoes.

"Baby, I am not threatening you. I am just at my wit's end with you. Why won't you talk to me and let me help you?"

"You can't help me, Dawson," I sadly said and kept my eyes down. He kissed the top of my head and retreated with a heavy sigh.

I drove to work and knew that I had to break it off with Dawson. I was never going to trust him or anyone else. I was never going to let him in as far as he wanted, and I was never not going to be f.u.c.ked up. There was nothing that I could do about that and I didn't want to hurt him. It was best that I let him go. I hated myself as I unlocked the door to the shop, wis.h.i.+ng that I would have never started anything with Dawson. Lauren and I were doing just fine without adding Dawson to the picture.

Starlight talked excitedly about Las Vegas and her friends that she couldn't wait for me to meet. She could tell that I wasn't really there, nor was I paying much attention. My mind was on Dawson and my terrified state about going to Las Vegas. I should have just told her no.

That would have been nice, had I ever been allowed to say no, I might have done just that. I couldn't go there.

What the h.e.l.l was I thinking?

I ignored three calls from Dawson, and when he stopped by in the afternoon, I made myself busy with a couple looking at the aroma therapy oils, explaining the difference. He was working and couldn't hang around, waiting on me.

He text a while later and asked me if I was not talking to him. I text him back and told him honestly that no, I was not talking to him, and I wanted to end things with him. I thanked him for being so patient with me and explained that I didn't expect him to hang around waiting for me to miraculously be normal. I told him that it wasn't going to happen and that he should move on.

"Don't you dare do this, Ry. I love you. I am not going anywhere," he text right back.

"Dawson, just stop. I don't want you. Please understand that." I shut my phone off and poured myself a cup of coffee.

"Get out of here," Starlight said as I stared off into s.p.a.ce.

"Excuse me?" I asked, not sure I heard her correctly.

"Your mind has been somewhere else all day. Go home and relax. I can handle things here," she said and wasn't giving me time to object. She held my elbow and walked me toward the back.

I didn't object. My mind was somewhere else, and it was in Las Vegas. I didn't want to go there, at all.

I pulled out from the back alley and no sooner got on the road when I saw Dawson in his police cruiser through my rearview mirror. He was riding close and flashed his headlights at me. I knew he wanted me to pull over, but I didn't. I knew he wouldn't follow me all the way home; however, the chances of him showing up at my door once his s.h.i.+ft was over were pretty high. He turned on his red and blue lights next. I blew out a puff of unbelievable air.

I still ignored him and when I didn't pull over he turned on the siren. I ignored that too and turned down the road toward my house. He pulled right up beside me on the narrow road with lights and siren, waving me to pull over.

"What? Are you going to give me a ticket?" I asked my rearview mirror.

I finally decided that I should abide by the law and pulled over, angry that he was stopping me for no reason other than I wasn't talking to him. It p.i.s.sed me off that he was using his authority to control me. I had dealt with enough of that in my life, and I be d.a.m.ned if I was going to deal with it from him.

I didn't even roll down my window. I opened the door and got out. I wasn't about to be compliant with him.

Before I could even speak, he slammed his car door and pointed back to his car.

"That is a G.o.d d.a.m.ned police car. I am a G.o.d d.a.m.n police officer. If I instruct you to stop, you better d.a.m.n well pull over," he yelled.

I yelled right back. "Fine. If you're going to pull me over, you better G.o.d d.a.m.n have a reason to do so."

"You are not pus.h.i.+ng me away, Ry," he demanded.

I crossed my arms and snorted.

"Please, don't push me away," he calmed and ran both hands down my crossed arms.

"Dawson, what is wrong with you? You don't want me," I a.s.sured him.

"I do want you, Riley. You don't want me to want you."

"Why? I think you have seen enough to know how f.u.c.ked I am."

"I don't think you are f.u.c.ked up at all. I think you have been through something horrific, and I would do anything to make it better for you."

"Why? I don't understand you. You are very good looking, funny, caring and compa.s.sionate. You could have any girl that you wanted. Why me?"

"I don't want any girl, Ry. I want you. Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

"Do you like being woken two and three times a night by my stupid hang ups? Dawson, I was practically begging you to do sick perverted things to me last night.

Don't you find that a little disturbing?"

"I find it a lot disturbing, and it breaks my heart because I know that somebody did those things to you, and you won't talk to me about it."

"I can't, Dawson. I relive it enough. I don't want you to know that part of me."

"Ry, I hear things that you say. I see you crying in your sleep. I know you were abused. I know you are hiding from someone named Drew. Don't you think that I could understand a little better if you would talk to me?"

I didn't know what to say. I had given the man every opportunity in the world to run and run as fast as he could, but he wasn't running. He was there as he had been since the day I met him.

"I'm afraid to, Dawson."

He looked at his watch and kissed me. I have two more hours. I am going to bring supper over, and you and I are going to talk about Drew," he demanded.

"Dawson," I tried, but he cut me off with a kiss.