Chapter Eight
I am no longer a virgin, and the whole city knows it. My pussy aches and drips with cum as the mercenaries gather me in their arms and take me back into the privacy of the leader’s suite.
There, I am tended to. They examine my pussy, clean it carefully. Tore is particularly affectionate, holding me close and kissing my hair and my face and telling me what a good girl I was for him.
I curl up in his arms and I let them do with me as they will. I am exhausted on every level. I crave rest and quiet. I need time to understand what just happened, and who I now am.
All there is left to do is sleep. I have not been awake for very long, but exhaustion and satisfaction take their toll.
The sex was brutal. It has left me feeling ravaged, utterly taken apart—but also more complete. Nothing has ever felt that way, not any of the caresses, orgasms at the hands of the others, my own fingers could not begin to touch the depths Tore’s cock just found.
“Are you sore?”
I nod a little. He makes a sympathetic little sound. “Get some cream for her...”
I don’t know who he’s talking to. I curl up against his chest and I let them do what they need to do. Large hands spread my thighs, a warm cloth finds my sex. I whimper a little, but it doesn’t feel bad. It feels nice to be taken care of, and when the warm cloth becomes a cooling cream, that too has an effect.
There is no fight left in me. I am not broken, but I am drained.
“So quiet now,” Tore muses, tipping my chin up so I look him in the eye. “But no less dangerous, I’d bet.”
I don’t know if that’s true.
“Who are you?”
The question leaves my lips softly. I do not know these men. I especially do not know this man, the first to ever breach the innermost parts of my person. Tore ripped my virginity away from me, turned it into a spectacle for the crowd. I should hate him. Perhaps I do.
“Tore Olsen,” he says. “That’s my full name. You already know what I am, a mercenary.”
“Did you come to kill the sheriff?”
“Perceptive little thing,” he smirks. “My associates and I came here on a contract.”
“So you will be paid for the sheriff’s death?”
“Very well.”
“But I was the one who took his life.”
“And you shall share in the spoils.” He smiles at me. Looking into the pale blue of his eyes, I feel a chill prickling across my skin and down my spine. This man is ruthless. They all are. They came here dealing death for money, and now they have me.
“So who will become leader now?”
“That is not a question for us to answer.”
“But you know.”
“I do not,” he says, wrapping his big protective arm around my waist. “There are many possibilities. It may be that one of the men who paid us will...”
“How many men paid you to kill the sheriff?”
“Fifteen, in total, I think.”
My jaw drops. “I earned you fifteen bounties?”
“Indeed,” Tore says.
“I want my cut.”