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“You said it wouldn’t hurt.” She was thankful he’d covered her with her dress or a lot more of her would be sunburned.
“I meant it wouldn’t hurt in the way you thought it would. You were expecting searing, agonizing pain, like a small surface burn only a lot worse, but brands don’t work that way. It’s not torture, even though it looks like it to outsiders. Not if you do it right.”
When they reached the house, he sat her at the kitchen table and poured her a tall glass of water. “Drink. You’re dehydrated.”
She drank the water down while he inspected her. He pulled the dress she’d been clutching away to leave her in her panties, covered in dirt. Her arms, shoulders, and face had gotten burned in the sun. The rest had been protected by the dress.
“I’ll be right back.”
He hadn’t yelled at her or done anything bad because she hadn’t made dinner. He returned a few minutes later with a spritz bottle that looked like it had water in it.
“Close your eyes tight and lean your head back.”
She was too drained to argue or ask questions, but she wasn’t prepared when the strong scent of vinegar hit the air. He sprayed her face, arms, and shoulders until she felt like a salad. Then he patted her face with a paper towel to stop it from dripping.
“It’ll help your sunburn,” he said. “You can open your eyes now. Would you like to see your brand?” He said it conversationally as if she’d gone to a trendy body modification shop and selected the design herself. In reality, it was an ugly reminder that he could do whatever he wanted with her, and she didn’t have the means to stop him.
She didn’t know if she ever wanted to see it, but she said “Yes, Sir” to keep him happy.
Luke took her hand and led her upstairs. “I want you to take a cool shower and get cleaned up while I make us something to eat. It’ll have to be grilled cheese and tomato soup tonight. What I had planned for you to make is too involved for this late.”
“T-that’s okay.” She was just glad he wasn’t punishing her for falling asleep in the backyard.
When they reached her bedroom, he stood her in front of the full-length mirror, turning her to the proper angle to see the brand. She thought she might pass out again when she saw it. It was dark red against her pale skin.
“It looks scary when it’s new. When it heals it’ll look something like what you saw on the video, okay? Just leave it alone.” He brushed the hair out of her face with his fingers as if he were soothing her. She couldn’t be sure if he saw Trish when he watched her reflection in the mirror.
Veronica looked again at the brand. If before she’d had even the smallest hope she’d ever be allowed to leave the ranch, that hope was gone, now. With an identifying mark like this, his crimes were painted across her skin, dark and angry—almost bragging: I did this. She stared at the G with the steer horns coming out of it that marked her as Luke’s property.
She didn’t know what to feel. She knew what she was supposed to feel: rage, violation. Instead she felt blank except for the throb between her legs. It started whenever he walked into a room now, whenever he came near her. Part of her would cringe away, tense, afraid he’d touch her, but another part needed him to. When she looked at Luke again, he was staring at his mark, an unapologetic smile curving his lips.
“This is wrong. I didn’t ask for any of this. You do know the difference, right?”
“I saved you,” he said simply, still convinced anything he did to her was okay because she was going to end up on the streets anyway. “Run along and get in the shower. I’ll bring you something to wear.”
She drifted to the upstairs bathroom in a fog. Maybe she was in shock. Or maybe it was the low-level constant buzz of arousal she’d felt from the moment she’d entered his presence—something she’d ignored as best she could until Luke had pointed it out so many times. Her face burned—more from embarrassment than the sunburn—over Luke so casually sliding his fingers inside her panties in full view of the ranch hand. She’d been too afraid at the time of what he was about to do to her, but now in the house, she didn’t think she’d be able to look at the guy at breakfast tomorrow.
A few minutes later, Luke came in with a white cotton nightgownin his hand. The gown had thin straps and was a thin enough material thatit would leave little to the imagination.
Veronica tried to cover herself. He arched an eyebrow and put the gown down on the counter.
“How long are you going to be so shy around me?”
It seemed ludicrous with what was the equivalent of his family crest burned into her hip and all he’d seen of her already, but she couldn’t help the natural inclination to protect her modesty.
She expected him to leave the clothes and go. Instead, he pulled her arms from her chest and ran his fingertips over her nipples and the full, roundness of her breasts, as if testing their weight. His hand roamed across her flat belly and to the mound between her legs. He stroked her already swollen clit, and she spread her legs as her hips arched up to meet him.
“The brand makes such a difference in you. You know you’re not going anywhere, now. Better to just open to me. Give in. We aren’t in the city anymore. There’s nothing you have to fight for, here. I’m going to be inside you tonight. So get used to that idea.”
A tear slid down her cheek as he rubbed her harder. Despite everything, her orgasm was building. It was confusing and exposing. She never had orgasmswithmen. It had always been later, on her own. She’d faked more orgasms than she’d wanted to admit to. Even the ones who had tried to touch her in just the right way had left her cold.
But then, no one had touched her like Luke was touching her. He touched her like she’d been brought into the world solely for his use, like her entire existence was meant to please him. The proprietary way he stroked her was clearly the only way she could come.
Luke didn’t askis this okay? Is this how you like it?He touched her the way he liked it, and she was forced to run along behind him, panting and hungry for more.
He pulled his hand away from her.
“Please...”
