Bought (His For A Week)

“I do, Master.”

Jake smirked at Kimani. “What do you say? Wanna taste?”

She stared at him, fighting the urge to show her disdain, but her mother didn’t bring her up to back down. Straightening her shoulders, she retorted, “I’d rather puke.”

The vein at his temple throbbed. He grabbed her by the ear, wrenching her to him as he lowered his head to say something.

“Did I say you could touch my sub?”

Jake looked up, and seeing Ben, released her.

“Your slut’s being a bitch,” he spat. “I was just going to teach her some manners.”

“That’s my prerogative.”

Ben jerked his head at Kimani to indicate she should follow him. She scrambled to her feet, eager to get away from Jake, and walked out to the patio with Ben. With night falling, the temperature had cooled. A couple of the heat lamps had been lit. Over at a patio table, Derek and Ryan were making out. Derek had pulled down Ryan’s tank top, exposing her lacy bra.

Ben took a seat on a lounge chair. “Sit down.”

She looked around for the nearest chair.

He indicated his lap. “Here.”

She sucked in her breath. It was time. The edge of the cliff loomed. He hadn’t asked for sex so far, but everyone else was going at it. Glancing inside, she saw that Lisa had rolled on top of Jason, and Claire was giving Jake another blow job.

Could she do it? Should she do it?

Torment you with rapture...devastate you...

She didn’t want to get sent home. Not when her story was incomplete. Gingerly, she sat down on his legs, but closer to his knees than his pelvis. Her body was turned perpendicular to his, so she could easily hop off if he tried anything. She hoped he wouldn’t. Right?

“Are you trying to piss Jake off?” he asked.

She thought for a minute. “Maybe.”

A grin tugged at one corner of his mouth.

“He was being an asshole,” she explained.

“He’s a Dom, you’re a sub. I thought you knew how things worked?”

“He’s not my Dom.”

“Then let me handle Jake.”

He ran a thumb beneath the bruise on her cheek. Did he know that Jake had hit her?

“Do you hit your subs if they don’t snap to?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t quiver because of his touch.

“Some women like to be slapped around—”

“In play. No one wants to be beat up in real life.”

“Of course in play. There’s nothing nonconsensual here. In fact, you’re going to be begging for it all, even the punishments.”

Her mouth went dry, but she managed a doubtful laugh, though it sounded more insecure than confident.

His fingers curled around her neck. His hand felt warm and strong. Suddenly every inch of her skin had come to life.