Page 57 of Stolen

“My pleasure,” he moaned and slammed into me harder than he ever had. I screamed as my wrists took their usual place above my head while he held me down and drilled into me like a jackhammer.

My body rocked back and forth under his, and I could feel the release building higher and higher no matter how much I tried to deny it. An unstoppable force was ready to punch right through the fragile veil of my dignity.

And then it happened. I could feel my core clench around the owner’s cock as I rode out an orgasm that shattered my body, straining my muscles and causing me to cry outharder than I ever had. It wasn’t three seconds later before he found his own release and poured himself into me.

“Did you like that?” he taunted with a sneer as he pumped the last of himself into me. “You don’t have to answer. We both know you did.”

Suddenly, the hot tears of rage I had been fighting broke from their chains and spilled down my cheeks, soaking into my hair. This twisted motherfucker somehow just made me orgasm from my own rape. How could that possibly happen? Was I just as fucked up as he was?

“Shhh, baby,” he cooed, catching on to my distress as he began to gently wipe the tears away with his thumbs. “You did exactly what was expected of you, and I didn’t even need to tell you. You’re such a good girl.”

“Get off me,” I cried. “Get off me!” I started to fight against him again, but I barely had any energy left, so my attempt was beyond pathetic. “Please…just get off.”

The tears flowed like a waterfall, and I didn’t even care if he saw; there was no possible way I could hold them back. After everything I had gone through, after everything he had done to me, this was by far the worst. I had taken pleasure from a man who had taken me from my family, beaten me, raped me, and was planning to sell me so I could live my life under those same conditions until I took my last breath.

I felt like I was nothing, like I meant nothing. All I was worth now was a good fuck, and the fact that my body couldn’t tell the difference when it came to what kind of monster was pleasuring it was more destructive than I could handle.

“Shhh,” the owner whispered, his fingers tracing along my jawline.

Why was he trying to console me? Shouldn’t he be reveling in his victory? Enjoying the pain he caused? This fucking guy was so twisted I couldn’t make sense of him, no matter what I did.

My body was shaking, and all I wanted to do was curl into a tiny ball and disappear.

“Please,” I pleaded with him. “You got what you wanted. Now let me wallow in it alone.”

“Kiss me, and I’ll let you return to your cage,” he commanded.

Fine. I could do that if it meant getting the fuck away from him, even if it was only for a short period. He would call upon me again, find some other way of provoking me—but the next time, he would fail.

I raised my lips up to his, but before he lowered to meet mine, he traced his fingers down my nose. “You’d better kiss me like you mean it, or I’ll just do this all over again,” he threatened.

I nodded in confirmation, my stomach clenching with dismay. He dipped his head, and I pressed my lips to his, giving him exactly what he wanted. It was the only way he would give me what I wanted. An unfair trade.

Ikissed him like I was kissing Jason, with love and passion, as if nothing else at this moment mattered but him and me. But as soon as our lips touched, I felt a darkness come over me—like a shadow swallowing up all the light and forcing it into the dark where it could never be seen again. I couldn’t explain the feeling, but it scared the hell out of me.

When he finally released me, I was on the verge of tears all over again.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered satisfied, and then removed himself from my body, leaving me to soak in the damp chilling mess of the sheets. “Now go clean yourself up.”

I curled into myself, away from the mess, my body aching and my core humming from use. I somehow managed to push myself off from the bed, but when I took a step forward, I fell straight to the floor, my body incapable of holding myself up in any way. As soon as I hit the floor, I heard the chuckle of the owner echo off the walls as he took a few steps toward me.

“I told you I was going to wreck you.”

Ignoring his cruelty, I tried to push myself off the floor, but I had no energy to do so. The owner walked away into the bathroom where I could hear him cleaning himself off. He came back out a few seconds later to put his clothes back on. By the time he was done, I still hadn’t moved a muscle, and I considered just passing out right here on the floor.

I cringed as his footsteps came around the side of the bed, and he lowered himself to me. He swiped a piece of my hair away from my face and tucked it back behind my ear. And then he snickered at me.

“Come on, silly girl,” he teased, picking me up off the floor by my arms and leading me over to the bathroom.

“Let go of me,” I groaned, pushing away from him and attempting to walk on my own.

“Shut. Your. Mouth,” he ordered before placing me on top of the counter.

Feeling too pathetic to argue, I leaned back against the mirror, anger and exhaustion ready to take me to the waiting abyss. The owner ran a warm wet rag down between my legs, collecting all the smeared and dried evidence of our orgasms and cleaning it away.

“Do not move,” he warned, glowering at me before heading back into the bedroom. When he returned two seconds later, he had my dress in his hand. “Arms up,” he said, bunching it in his hands. I weakly held my arms up in front of me so he could slip the dress through them and over my head.

He tugged it down to my waist, only covering my chest, before pulling me from the counter and leading me out of the room back to the double oak doors of his office. I weakly pulled the rest of my dress down so that it actually covered my ass instead of just bunching at my hips like he had left it.

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