Underestimated (20 page)

was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to stop. I

could feel his welted handprints on my ass, 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 dick,” 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

fucked 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 lustful 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 knob 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 knob

again.

Oh, fuck.

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 sex in a slow,

leisurely motion and held it centimeters away from my

clit, 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 orgasm 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 lustful

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

fuck 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 hell 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 brushing my sex once every spin.

Son of a bitch…

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 pass 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, massaging 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 sexually 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 ass,

and to put his dick 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

sexually frustrated or if it was the way that Dawson

handled me, but I had the most unbelievable orgasm of my

life that night. Dawson made slow passionate 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 sex. 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 embarrassed 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 sex 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.

“Fuck 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 fucked 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, wishing 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 hell 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

space.

“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 shift 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 pissed me off that he

was using his authority to control me. I had dealt with

enough of that in my life, and I be damned 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 God damned police car. I am a God