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But she knew what he was doing. He was using her as a pawn — and the fact he had refrained from fucking her, well, that had obviously been because he was going to sell that part of her.
“Why did you stab me, Daisy?”
The question seemed so simple, almost too simple.
“I have to get away from you. You’re using me for something I don’t want to be used for. You’re keeping me here to trade for something. Probably sex.”
“For a woman who has lived a remarkably pedestrian life, you have an instinctive understanding of the darker things in life. I wonder if it is genetic.”
“Or maybe you’re just not as smart and complex as you like to think you are.” She threw the words back at him, knowing he would punish her for them.
He did not disappoint. His palm fell in a fresh rain of slaps, making her writhe in that shameful dance she performed every time he took her so cruelly in hand. Her ass was burning and aching, feeling terribly swollen and sore. But he didn’t care about that. he was more interested in her pussy, as usual.
No man, no matter how deviant or dangerous, could resist a wet cunt.
“I tried to sell this tonight,” he told her, dipping a long, elegant finger inside her pussy as if she were a bowl of some kind. “I showed your pictures to a room of the most powerful and depraved people in the world, and they bid on you.”
She felt her pussy tighten and grip his finger as she listened to his fucked up, twisted story. She believed him. He had not lied to her as far as she could tell since the moment he abducted her.
“You see, your pussy, your body, your womb, they are highly valuable. The first man to impregnate you will have biological claim to an almost infinite amount of wealth.”
Daisy bit her lower lip to stop herself from responding. He was a crazy asshole, a wild narcissist, and probably a sociopath. He wanted her to be afraid. That’s how he liked her, wet, sore, and scared.
“You’re a psycho. And you’re not going to get away with this.”
“You sound just like your daddy,” he smirked, pulling his finger free of her pussy and using the wetness gathered there to tease her clit in those deliciously dangerous slow circles he was so good at.
"That man is not my father. Or my daddy. And you better let me go,” she said, trying not to give into the urge to come. She was so much closer than she wanted to be, every muscle in her lower body tense with excitement.
“I’m not going to let you go,” he insisted. “A little stabbing won’t change that. It will just make me make things right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her question ended in a hitched gasp as he pinched her clit and plunged two fingers back inside her, screwing them into her with a rough finger-fucking motion which made her every curve jiggle.
“You penetrated me with your makeshift weapon. I think turnabout is fair play,” Indigo drawled.
Oh fuck. Those words alone almost put her over the edge as he gripped her by the chin and turned her head so she was forced to look into his handsome but evil face.
“Better wear a condom,” he winked. “Wouldn’t want to inadvertently win my own auction, would I?”
“You can’t find someone else you want to fuck more?”
“At this moment? No,” he said, releasing her face. He pushed her around until she was lying in front of him on the mattress, her legs parted in submission which felt more like surrender to the inevitable. This fucking had been in the stars since before they had ever met.
“Normally, I’d engage in a little more foreplay, but girls who stab their masters don’t get foreplay.”
She felt him line himself up with her inner channel, then surge forward in one wicked stroke. If there was a condom, she couldn’t feel it. There were more intense, pressing feelings to experience, like the tearing of the delicate marker of purity, her hymen obliterated in that first thrust which transformed everything.
It was as if his naked cock was deep inside her. She could feel his flesh merging inside her body, their liquids joining them together in some primal way that was controlling them both. Not just her. Him as well.
He pulled out, threw her over onto her back and shoved himself back inside her, pinning her in place with one hand at her throat, and fingers which tightened imperceptibly with every stroke.
She saw the animal in his eyes, the pure beast which lurked beneath all those layers of control and made her his victim, his prey, and his lover.
The wound she’d inflicted did not seem to phase him one bit. If anything, the pain heightened and enhanced his rough lovemaking. Her juices, his blood, their joint desperation and hatred.
