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“You’ll adapt. Just relax,” the man muttered. He’d wound his fingers through her hair and jerked her head back. “Come on, lady, tell me you want me here,” he seethed.

She refused to speak.

“Tell me!” he shook her hard. “Tell me, or there will be more that will shame you far beyond your bounds.”

“But I…” she started to object.

He ran his one hand over her face and thrust his fingers inside her mouth. She sucked them unthinkingly, as she might her husband’s. “That’s it. Now tell me, Mrs. Crowe.”

He slapped her ass again and again, so hard the pain there compounded.

“Tell me!”

“Yes, yes, I want you in me!” she finally cried.

“More, Mrs. Crowe!”

?

??I want you in me, sir.”

“More, tell me what you desire. You know what I want to hear.”

Desire? How could that be? It could never be true; she could never feel these things!

But she knew what he wanted to hear, what he wanted to extract from her for spite, because he was bigger, meaner, more ruthless, and she was just a woman in a savage land victim to a lust she could not control. She said the words because she had to. “I want you to use me,” she sputtered. “I want you to use my ass, sir!” she repeated. Then she fell into a convulsive sob as the man’s erection worked the channel hard for the sole purpose of humiliating the proud woman. He took pleasure in being the third man that day to dispense his seed in the ass of another man’s wife. And what her convulsive weeping did was hide the fact that her inner body shook from more than terror or shame. It bit off a piece of unspeakable pleasure, that for just a few brief seconds took her body and mind from this travesty and gave them glory not dishonor. Cain knew that, and so did she, even if she never admitted the truth.

Hannah was still lying over the kitchen table when the three men were ready to leave. She was too exhausted to rise to her feet. Her pride was gone; she was bathed in shame.

“Get up, Mrs. Crowe and address me proper,” she heard Jarrett Cain’s voice pierce her misery with the command. He had little to say, but he wanted to see her face and make her look him in the eye.

With what little strength she had, Hannah peeled her sweat-soaked body from the table and stood. Her skirt kindly dropped down to cover her used ass end and she steadied herself against the table. She raised her trembling chin in a proud but faltering fashion.

“When you see your brother again, you will remember him to me, won’t you?” Cain said.

“Yes, sir, I will,” she said coolly.

His two companions had already left the house, and he did as well, after one long look—a little admiration mingled with scorn.

The three men mounted their horses and rode off with the sound of their hoof beats lingering in the air.

The two women were silent, almost afraid to move, and too stunned and ashamed to speak. Then Hannah, suddenly, lifted the butter paddle and handed it to Jolie. “Burn it!” she ordered.

“Hannah, you must report this to the sheriff. Someone will have to find Daniel.” Jolie’s words were so unexpected. So calm. So sure and steady. So unlike the whimpering girl of the last hour.

Hannah whipped around, having found some reserve of strength.

“NO!” Her eyes flared with purpose. “No one is telling anyone. Ever! I will not go to the sheriff. No one needs to search for Daniel. I will not have you telling my husband or anyone else that I’ve been soiled by these men! It would dishonor him as much as it has dishonored me. He does not deserve that. I brought this on my house and I will bear it myself. You hear me?”

Jolie stood back, stunned.

“You hear me, sister? We keep this to ourselves. No one knows. No one! Ever.” She shook her sister by the shoulders. “I want to hear you say so.”

“You’re making a terrible mistake.”

“But you will honor my wishes. This is my body that has been violated, and my husband’s wife who has been defiled.”

“I was abused as well!”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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