Page 24 of Jagger
I stare at her.
Even like this, she's beautiful. She's on her back wearing just her underwear. Her chest heaves, making her nipples strain against the fabric of her thin bra. Her lips part as she looks at Lawson with disgust, her defiance making me hard. Molly can make me hard without effort—this is no exception. Her eyes are puffy from crying, and the fear she's managing to hide does nothing but make her more alluring. She's an enigma. I watch as Lawson dominates her, forcing me to endure everything she is enduring.
It's hard, but I'm doing this for her.
I'm buying her freedom at a high price, and I don't mean the millions of dollars. I mean, with what scars I'm about to leave her with. Lawson treats Molly like shit before tearing her underwear from her body. The sight of her breasts and pussy excites me, and I'm fucking grateful. Otherwise, how would I get through this? I like rough sex. I like rape kinks. But this is real.
Molly hasn't got a fucking clue.
I don't expect her to ever forgive me for this, but I don't need her to—wouldn't expect her to.
Because with every step I take, my limbs grow heavier, and my soul splinters into tiny pieces. I'm going to hurt her in a wayonly a man can hurt a woman. Bile rises in my throat, but I try to detach myself from my heart. To listen to my brain. She'll hate me for this, but not as much as I hate myself. But I'm doing what I have to do to save her. I may be doing this for her freedom, but I know what I get from it. I get to fuck Molly out of my system and out of my heart because, after this, she'll truly despise me.
And I need her to.
14
MOLLY
I can hear muffled voices from above me, and I roll onto my side with a groan. I wince when my head throbs, reminding me that Lawson hit me once I was in the trunk of the car.
Lawson.
That sick fucker!
I sit up too quickly and try not to vomit, my toes curling at the sight of what lies across the room from me.
No.
It's a table, but the table isn't the problem.It's what's on it.
Whips. Chains. Handcuffs.
I swallow and stare down at my body, relieved to see I'm still wearing underwear, at least. It's cold in the room, even though I can't see a window. I try not to panic, but there's no fucking window! The walls are made from brick, and the ground is concrete.
I'm in a basement.
The bed I'm on has a thin sheet and nothing more. Not even a pillow. The iron bars holding the bed together make me feel like I'm in a horror movie, which isn't far from the truth.
It doesn't take a genius to work out what Lawson has me stripped in a basement for, especially with the toys on the table.
Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.
I can't go through this again.
Footsteps sound from my right, and a door I hadn't noticed swings open. A harsh white light floods the room, and I hiss before covering my eyes.
"Alright, Sleeping Beauty?" Lawson drawls like we're catching up over drinks.
I grit my teeth and lower my hand, forcing myself to adjust to the light so I can see my abuser. Dread fills my stomach when I immediately notice someone in the shadows behind him and know what they're here for.
"No," I say quickly, focusing on Lawson. "You can't do this to me!"
Lawson smiles, and it makes me whimper.
The fucking bastard. He's already sold me.
"Doll," he says, moving forward so he's staring down at me. "You know the deal. You're mine, and you ran. You hid from me for too long. What have you been doing, hmm? Fucking all those little rich boys for free?"
