Page 37 of Counter Bet

After closing the bedroom door behind me, I grab clean clothes and stuff them into my bag. I’m almost finished packing when the door opens, and one of my uncle’s guests steps inside. I recognize him as Greg Clifford, one of the regulars down at the local pub. It’s not the first time Greg has been to visit, and he’s always overly handsy.

I’m instantly on alert, backing up against the edge of the bed.

He’s dressed in loose jeans, and the buttons on his creased shirt are done up wrong. He locks the door, scratching his unshaven beard.

The very door I forgot to lock in my rush to pack a bag and make my escape.

My heart thuds heavily in my chest as he stops in front of me, flashing his yellowed teeth.

“If it isn’t my favorite girl.”

I’m trapped against the bed with nowhere to escape.

He palms my breast through the fabric of my tank top. “I wondered when I would see you next.” His sour breath turns my stomach.

I slap his hand away. “My uncle will kill you if you touch me!” It’s a lie. My uncle won’t give a shit. Greg knows it too.

He calls me out on my lie. “Your uncle doesn’t care about you. You’re an inconvenience to him.” He strokes his fingers over a fading bruise on my jaw. “He does like to take his anger out on you, doesn’t he?”

I rip my jaw away from his touch but don’t reply.

“Now, sweetness, this will be over so much quicker if you don’t fight,” he says, taking hold of my wrist and pressing my palm over his hard length.

Panic seizes me. I push past him, sprinting for the door, but I don’t get far before he grabs my hair.

I cry out in pain.

“You ungrateful little bitch!” he growls, throwing me down on the bed. He punches me repeatedly in my ribs and stomach until I lie sobbing on the rumpled sheets.

Everything hurts. I draw my legs up in the fetal position.

He leers down at me, unbuttoning his jeans. “I told you not to fucking fight. Now, look what you made me do.” He kicks the bed, and a startled scream escapes my lips. “I didn’t want to have to hurt you, but you gave me no choice.”

He kneels down on the bed and wraps his big hand around my throat. It hurts. I struggle to take a breath.

“Now, are you going to be a good girl, or will I have to discipline you some more?”

I claw his wrist, drawing blood in my fight to ply his fingers off, but he’s too strong.

“Maybe you enjoy a heavy hand?” His smile is cruel. He releases me, so he can free his dick. He begins stroking the long length, watching me with his beady eyes. “Come here and wrap your hand around my cock.”

When I don’t make a move to comply, he grabs my hand in such a fierce grip I feel as if the bone might snap. He wraps my fingers around his length and guides my movements up and down his veiny dick.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

He fucks my hand, grunting deep in his throat.

I feel sick.

He buries his fingers in my hair and fists the strands tightly. I’m in so much pain already that my stinging scalp barely registers.

“I’m going let go of your hand now, sweetness, and you’re going to make me feel real fucking good, understood? If you don’t, then I’ll have no choice but to bend you over and fuck your tight little ass.”

I whimper in fear. Greg’s voice tells me he would like it very much if I resisted him.

“Good girl,” he breathes when his hand falls away, and I’m still stroking him. Tears pool in my eyes. The pain in my body has nothing on the emotional pain.

I pick up speed to get him off faster, so this hell will be over sooner.

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