by Vivian Ward
Stop. Tell him to stop.
I can’t.
No matter how much my mind tells me to back away, run, escape, my body won’t let me. Wetness gathers between my legs and I want him to do more.
What are you doing, Kendra?
The wetness between my legs doesn’t let me forget that I like this, yet I can’t help but think about how wrong all of this is. I shouldn’t have sold myself. But I did. And he bought me, fair and square, as a willing participant. Honestly, deep down, I didn’t expect to get sold during the auction. Years of put-downs and abuse has always told me that I’m not pretty enough, not good enough, not worthy enough.
And here’s this sexy, older man who sees something in me. What does he see? Why does he like me? Why does he care? After all, you buy things, property. You don’t buy people. Then again, most people don’t put themselves up for bid.
I owe it to him to give him the 30 days before I think about bailing, even if it pulls me way out of my comfort zone. He did pay a million dollars for me. And I’ll put every red cent I get to good use when I get my mom and sister out of that hell-hole. I owe it to them to see this commitment through.
Sensing my body relax as we kiss, his strong hands grab hold of my hips where he grinds his erection against my belly. Holy hell! He’s big! It only intensifies the wetness pooling in my panties.
My lips tremble as he breaks our kiss and his hot mouth consumes my neck, biting and sucking down the length of my throat. I don’t tell him to stop or push him away because it feels so good. I’ve never had a man kiss me the way he does or hold me like this, but I want more.
“Good girl,” his voice is low and throaty, growling against my skin. “Relax and enjoy. I promise, you’re in for a real treat.”
His warm breath sends shivers throughout my body while he begins undoing my bodice. Like a magician, his fingers skillfully undo the whole thing until it’s just hanging on my torso. Pulling it off, he throws it to the floor and pushes me down on the mattress.
My legs part effortlessly for him as if they’re under his command, obeying his silent commands. He hovers his weight mere inches above me and begins kissing me again, this time biting and sucking my bottom lip until it’s swollen and puffy. My breath hitches in my throat as his hand makes its way between my legs, cupping my sex.
“So wet,” his eyes light up as his mouth moves to my nipple, biting and licking it until it’s a perfect point. His eyes never leave mine the entire time.
Traveling farther south, he stops between my legs, pulling my panties to the side. My breathing is erratic and I can’t control the fast, shallow breaths that fill my lungs as I watch him. Kissing my pussy, his tongue slowly extends, licking my folds. My entire body begins to tremble.
“Why are you so nervous?” He says, his breath tickling me where no man has ever been before.
“I-I’ve,” I close my eyes, trying to form coherent sentences but my thoughts won’t cooperate with me. “Nobody has ever….,” my voice trails off, embarrassed to finish the sentence.
“Never?” He asks, his voice thick and husky. I shake my head before turning away. “Then you’re definitely in for a treat.”
Closing my eyes, I try not to think about how he’s manipulating my body or how good it feels. I try to think about why I’m here and why I’m allowing him to do these things to me, but my mind is in a complete fog.
The more his hands and mouth own my body, the more compliant I become.
His hot tongue licks my folds and clit, claiming every part of my womanhood. The thoughts of the auction, the money, and the 30-day arrangement fly out the window. In this moment, he’s claiming me. Possessing me. Demanding my attention.
“So sweet,” he mumbles, his lips glisten with my juices.
Inserting a finger, he hooks it inside of me, pressing against my G-spot as his skillful mouth continues licking and sucking, kissing and biting me down there. My thighs start to tighten around his shoulders as a slow, deep building orgasm begins to form low in my belly.
“That’s it, come for me, baby girl,” he whispers.
Increasing the pressure of his mouth and finger, I suck in a deep breath and try to think about anything else besides coming on a complete strangers hand and face.
A stranger who bought me.
Yet, I’m supposed to be the stranger’s wife.
It’s wrong on so many levels, but it’s oh-so-fucking hot.
White hot sparks ignite behind my closed eyes as my hands fist the sheets. Bright sparks turn into bursting stars, and bursting stars turn into scorching flames. It’s never ending as I continue coming for him like some sick puppy.
“Oh, fuck,” I say, my back arching off the bed.
“That’s it, give me all you’ve got,” he commands, biting my throbbing button.
The stinging makes me wince but pleasure immediately replaces the pain as he gently kisses it away.
Sweaty and breathless, I lie on the bed, panting and sucking air. Needing and wanting more. But I don’t know what to do or how to reciprocate the same pleasure that he just gave me. He takes his place beside me, kissing the outline of my jaw. “I told you that you were in for a treat,” his warm breath tickles my neck.
Embarrassed that I don’t know what to do, I turn away from him. I don’t want to face a grown man—double my age—and say that, as an adult woman, I have no idea what to do sexually, especially after the mind-blowing orgasm I just had.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, his strong hand cupping my hip.
“Nothing,” I whisper.
“One thing I don’t tolerate is liars. Tell me what’s wrong? Did you not like what we just did? You seemed like you enjoyed coming all over my face quite well.”
Even though he can’t see me, I can feel his eyes burning my skin and my cheeks instantly pink as he asks me whether or not I liked coming on his face.
On his face!
“It’s not that,” I huff, frustrated with myself. Why did I always have to live such a sheltered life? I hate myself for submitting to him, for letting go, for liking what he just did to me. I should’ve stood up to him, told him to stop like I wanted to. Instead, I went along with it.
Just like I always let my dad do whatever he wanted. I could’ve stopped him if I really tried. I could’ve stood in front of my mom or my sister, or I could’ve called the cops. But, instead, I let him do whatever he wanted.
And I just let Oliver do the same damn thing.
“Then what is it?” He demands, climbing on top of me so that we can see each other’s face.
“I-I don’t know what to do or even what to think,” I finally admit.
“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?”
Turning farther away from him, I stare at the gold trim on the fancy headboard. “I know you want sex but I’ve never had it before. I’m still a virgin.” The words sting my tongue as they roll off of it. I hate telling people that I’m still a virgin. I feel like such a baby.
A deep, throaty laughter tickles my neck. “I know. That’s why I bid on you.”
Surprised, I turn to face him. “That’s why?” The little confidence that I had diminishes. I knew I wasn’t very pretty.
“Part of it,” he smiles, caressing my face with his fingertips. “You’re young, attractive, and a virgin. What’s not to like about a pretty woman who’s never been had before?”
My cheeks pink again. Oh, he does think I’m pretty. But I bet he bought me more because of the virgin status. There weren’t many girls like that in the auction. I don’t know what the big deal is anyway. Being a virgin at my age is embarrassing. Most people think you’re a snob, or something’s wrong with you, or that nobody wants you. In my situation, my dad always made sure we didn’t want people around us by acting the way he did. It was always so humiliating.
My dad.
Why do I always think about him? I’m in an amazing suite with a very handsome, dominant man who wants to fuck my brains out and make me his w
ife, and yet, I can’t stop thinking about the monster I ran away from. It makes me sick.
“Kendra,” he says, his voice a bit louder.
“Hmm?” I ask, bringing myself back to the present.
“What are you thinking about? What’s troubling you? Why are you so worried?”
“Nothing,” I lie. “I just want to please you, that’s all.” And I do. I know I have a lot of learning to do, and even though he’s very dominant, he also seems very patient. I just want to save myself the embarrassment of having him tell me what to do.
“Something’s troubling you and I want to know what it is. Right now,” he demands, sitting up in bed.
“Why do you care?”
Maybe if I could stop thinking about my family situation, I could enjoy myself. Let loose a little. But no, I’m lying here as I compare this man to my dad, and berate myself for being such a failure at protecting everyone, including myself.
“Look, Kendra, we only have 30 days together before you can either decide to walk away or get married to me. I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to a wife. We’re not going to get past things if you don’t open up and tell me what’s going on. Are you in some kind of trouble?”
Trouble. Ha! I’d be in a hell of a lot more than trouble if my dad found out what I did and where I was at. I’d be dead.
“Why are you asking me so many questions? You already know more about me than I know about you. Maybe I should be the one asking questions.”
I feel proud of myself for flipping the tables on him. Let’s see how he likes being in the hot seat.
He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Kendra, the first thing you should know about me is that I’m an open book—to some people. You are one of those people.”
My heart flutters at the fact that he’d choose me to be one of those people because we barely know each other, but, again, if I’m going to be his wife, I probably should be.
“You can ask me anything you’d like, nothing is off limits. I’ll tell you any and everything you want to know.”
I challenge him to see if he’s telling the truth. “Okay, what do you do for a living?”
“I own my own law firm, Ford and Associates, and have been practicing law for almost 25 years.”
I’m kind of impressed but I don’t understand why a man practicing law would have to buy women. Why can’t he just get one on his own? Surely, someone with his social status and power wouldn’t have trouble finding an attractive woman to be with.
“What kind of law? And how come you’re not already married?” I curiously ask.
“Criminal law, mostly, but we do take on other types of cases. It’s one of the reasons why it’s called Ford and Associates. We have a few lawyers who dabble in other areas of the law such as divorce and civil suits.” He smiles, tickling my nose with his finger. “And I’m not married because I chose not to be. But I’m getting older and want to settle down, but not with just anyone. I’m looking for someone who has an insatiable sexual appetite, someone who is intelligent, and someone who is innocent.”
Confused, I ponder what he told me. “I fit the innocent bill, but you don’t know that I’m smart. I didn’t go to college like some of the other girls, so why didn’t you bid on them?”
“There’s something about you, Kendra. And, for the record, you don’t have to attend college to be intelligent.”
“Oh,” I respond, unsure of what to say. “Can I ask you something?”
His hand gestures before him. “I told you, I’m an open book. Ask me anything.”
“Well, this room is very nice and I know you probably paid a lot of money for it, but can we go to your house? So I can see where I’ll be living?”
“Right now?” He asks, his eyebrows high on his forehead.
I nod. “If it’s okay.”
“Of course. I might be a sexual deviant, but I’m also a gentleman,” he winks. “We can go to the house if that’d make you more comfortable.” He checks his watch. “It’s almost 4AM. Let’s get some rest and I’ll call for a ride in the morning.”
I gulp. If we’re going to stay here tonight, there’s only one bed. My eyes scan over the mattress, and he must’ve noticed because he says, “Don’t worry. We don’t have to have sex tonight. But we will soon.”
While I’m relieved that we don’t have to do anything tonight, it only makes my anticipation grow stronger because I know it’ll happen at some point. But maybe I can make him just happy enough for the next four weeks and get by without it. Or maybe I can find a way out of all this. Maybe if he sees or thinks that I’m trying but it isn’t working, he’ll just let me go.
Oliver
It’s a shame that she didn’t want to stay in the suite that I’d rented for our honeymoon, but if bringing her home makes her feel more at ease, that’s what I’ll do. I’d do anything to rip her clothes off of her again and taste her sweet nectar. It’s like a drug, and I’m already becoming addicted.
After brunch, I summon the limo driver to pick us up and take us back to my house. The ride home is silent with the exception of a few passing cars. When we pull into the long drive, I watch her peer out at her new home.
“Wow! You live here all by yourself?” She asks, her eyes scanning the two-story home from the car window.
“I used to,” I answer. “Until now. It’s our home.”
“Will I get my own room?” She blurts out excitedly before bowing her head. “Never mind, that was a stupid question.”
Carrying her tattered duffle bag, I unlock the front door and allow her to enter first. “I’ll give you a tour and show you the master bedroom.”
I don’t give her a chance to respond as I begin showing her around. When we get to the kitchen, I pour us a couple of drinks and sit her down at the table. There’s something she’s not telling me, and I don’t like secrets. I want to know about her past and what she’s so afraid of.
“You have a really nice house,” she says, sipping from her glass.
“It’s what I like to call home. Let’s make a toast,” I suggest, holding my glass up. “Here’s to making the best of the next 30 days, and, hopefully, longer.”
She hesitates for a brief moment before clinking her glass to mine.
“I asked you a question earlier and I’m still waiting on an answer,” I tell her. Her eyes grow into giant saucers as she stares at me. “Tell me about your life. Your past.”
“What do you want to know?” Her voice comes out as a whisper.
I know she doesn’t want to tell me anything about her past since she never answered the question earlier but I want to know everything about her.
“Tell me about your past, your family, friends. That sort of stuff.”
She clears her throat and takes another sip. “Well, I just grew up in the standard household, I guess. Mom, dad, and my little sister. I graduated high school and have stayed home to help around the house,” she shrugs her shoulders.
I don’t believe her for one minute. Well, at least, not all of it. “That’s one,” I say to her.
“One what?” She asks.
“One lie. Now, try telling me the truth this time and don’t spit out some cookie-cutter recipe of an average life. Ordinary girls don’t put themselves up for auction. Tell me what your life is or was really like.”
Her puffy lips part with her tongue licking them before she takes another drink. “I don’t need this shit.”
“You’re wrong. You do. Ever since we got in the limo, I’ve seen your little wheels turning up here,” I point to my head. “You’ve got some internal struggle going on because a normal girl doesn’t auction herself. A normal girl doesn’t sell her virginity. A normal girl doesn’t try to run after making a commitment and then let a complete stranger eat her pussy.” I lean across the table, our faces mere inches apart and can smell the strawberry liquor on her sweet breath. “You fought with yourself to let me do that to you, and then you wanted to give me more but couldn’t for
some reason. You’re like a broken doll, anyone can see that.”
“I’m a virgin, I told you! I don’t know what to do!” Frustration, embarrassment, and anger paint a red-streaked canvas across her face, and she looks absolutely stunning. I’m going to make her look like that again, but in the bedroom—as she straddles my cock and I make her take every fucking inch of it.
“No, no, no,” I shake my head. “There’s more to your story, Kendra. I know there is and until you give it to me, everything stops here.”
Her eyebrows raise as her eyes grow even wider. “W-what do you mean?”
“If you want to play games, we can play. But I promise you, I’ll win. I always do. And if you want to keep lying to me when I ask you a question, there are plenty of ways to punish girls like you. Or you can cooperate, tell me what I want to know, and we can move on. The choice is yours, but you won’t like it if you keep up this little charade you’ve got going on.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” she hisses. “You bid on me and paid for sex. If that’s what you want, I’ll give it to you, but I don’t have to tell you about my past.”
I hate that she’s holding back. It’s driving me mad.
“Do you know what I do to girls with mouths like yours?” Still defiant and refusing to speak, I reach for my zipper with my free hand. “Get on your knees. I’m about to give you your first lesson.”
Moving my hand from her face to her shoulder, I force her to the ground. Her doe-like eyes stare up at me and that’s when I catch her licking her lips. It’s subtle, but it’s there.
“Good girl,” I say, coaxing her. Stroking the length of my cock just inches from her face, she watches in shock as it continues to grow. “Open wide.”
She doesn’t immediately comply until I wrap a fistful of her hair around my hand and push my cock past her lips, leaving her no choice in the matter. But like a good little whore, she begins sucking it as soon as it’s in her wet, warm mouth.
“That’s it,” I say, encouraging her to continue. “Move your tongue, swirl it around.” This is just one of the many lessons I’m about to teach her.