Page 20 of Bought

He fists his hand in my hair and pulls my ear up to his mouth, speaking in a husky drawl that sends a decadent tingle to every part of my body. “That I always win. And that losing can feel very, very good.”

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that he can do this to me. It’s not fair that I am at his mercy. Least of all, it’s not fair that he is right. Losing to Ethan gives me more pleasure than anything I have ever experienced in my life.

He walks me toward the window and bends me forward, my forearms resting on the windowsill, my ass up high thanks to these treacherous shoes that make me naturally arch my back and stand on my tiptoes.

“Stay there,” he orders. “Don’t move an inch.”

He leaves and goes to the bathroom. I could kick these heels off. I could take the dress off and pull my jeans and hoodie back on. I could run downstairs, throw myself into the wilds around his house, and try another escape.

But I don’t. I stand there with this fine dress hiking itself up over my ass, leaving me on lewd display. And I wait for him to come back and take me. My anus is still tender from the rough thrusts in the car, but my pussy is yet to get what it wants—what I want. It’s so easy to separate myself from my body. Tell myself that this is all physical. But he hasn’t tied me in place. I am here, waiting. He is starting to get inside my head. Starting to break me down, and right now, I am too aroused to care.

Is he right? Is this what a woman wants? To be kept and dressed and fucked, to never have any kind of job, to be owned completely? No. This is just a fantasy. But it’s one I’m living right now.

I let out a soft moan of defeat as he pushes in, that thick cock spearing slowly inside me. He takes his time, works it into my wet pussy with a languid thrust. He knows my body is aching with need. He can feel the way my wet walls grip him. But he’s not going to give me everything I want. Not yet.

He fucks me against the window, makes me look out at his world as his cock sluices my wet slit. He fucked my ass, came in my ass, and now my pussy is getting some much delayed reward because I submitted to being dressed up like a doll.

I feel his hand slip around my neck, grasp me lightly by the throat as he pulls me up, still unsteady on those heels. He holds my wobbling form in place against his hard muscular body, arched against him as he surges into me over and over, drawing cries of desire and outrage and need and impending climax.

When Ethan fucks me, there is nothing else in the world. There is only him, his cock plunging inside me over and over, taking me to the verge of orgasm and sanity alike. The hand not at my neck slides between my legs, his fingers rub against my clit as his cock slams in and out of me.

And then he adds another layer of humiliation and pain to the mix—he starts spanking my pussy while he fucks it. He thrusts in, pulls out, smacks my pussy hard enough to make me yelp, and then pushes his cock back in all the way. The hand at my throat keeps my head pinned back against his shoulder as he repeats this treatment over and over, fuck, spank, fuck, spank. My cunt is getting tender and sore and so fucking close to coming, but he won’t let me, not yet. He’s not done showing me all that he can do to me, all he can make me feel.

Finally he buries his cock deep inside my writhing sex and rubs my clit hard. I scream up to the ceiling as I burst into an orgasm that makes it impossible to stand. He has to shift his grip to hold me on his cock, his hands on my hips, driving me up and down that hard shaft as I scream with release. I am a mess. A wet, cum-stained, ass-fucked, pussy-spanked mess. And I am his.

“How long are you going to keep me here like this?” I ask the question when I have had a moment to catch my breath. I am still standing with him, his cock has slid from me and his cum is slipping down my thighs, a thick load of pure domination.

“As long as it takes,” he says, slapping my ass lightly.

“Takes for what?”

“For you to settle down and understand what’s happening here. You’re mine, Casey.”

I’m not his. I am going to prove it too. My first attempt was at escape. But maybe there isn’t any escaping him. That doesn’t mean I can’t take him down. And it doesn’t mean I won’t.

“Come and eat,” he says. “You can clean up and put some underwear on first.”

I bite back a sarcastic retort. This is actually a very generous offer from Ethan. Usually he makes me wallow in his cum. I excuse myself to the bathroom, taking short, unbalanced little steps. With every one of them, I feel slick seed slipping down my inner thighs.

It’s much easier to clean up though, when you’re wearing a skirt. Usually being left wearing his cum means being a mess. This time, a warm wet cloth takes care of most of it in seconds, and then I emerge and find myself some underwear. It’s all silk and satin, of course, none of the simple cuts and colors I usually prefer, but I pick a pair that is relatively full cut, a devil red bikini that settles into place against my well used ass and pussy with a gentle touch. These panties are going to be excellent for wearing after he’s spanked me, I think to myself. Then I realize I am now planning my attire around the fact that Ethan Keller gets to whip my ass whenever he feels I deserve it. This world he has built around me is changing me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Ethan leads me down into the house proper, and for the first time I see the dining room. One of the dining rooms, he says. It’s beautiful, set out on a balcony that juts out over the forest below, and with the lights of the city in the distance.

Again I am reminded of how much Ethan is like a king. A medieval liege would have had views like this over his lands, but unlike his older counterparts, Ethan’s influence of power stretches far wider than the eye can see. His is a global dominion. This man helping me into a mercifully padded chair is almost certainly one of the most powerful people on the planet right now.

And he wants me. That is perhaps, the thing I find hardest to believe in all of this. This man has no doubt been approached by the most beautiful women in the world. He could have anyone. But he’s holding me captive. Fucking me. It’s not a compliment, at least, not in anything other than an incredibly twisted way, but seen through that warped lens, I do have to wonder why he is taking so much interest in me.

“Why are you doing this?”

“You know why I’m doing this,” he says calmly.

“But I mean, this is a lot of effort to go to just to keep one person quiet. And you know… that I’m not going to stop.”

“I know,” he chuckles.

Forsyth slides into the room like a dark shadow. I feel his presence before I see him. An obsequious gloom follows him everywhere he goes. I shut my mouth. I don’t want him to overhear this conversation, which is essentially me expressing my unworthiness as a captive.

“Dinner, sir?”

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