Underestimated (28 page)

the vibration. “Keep your eyes on the mirror,” he

demanded when I turned away.

“Because I was a bad girl.”

Fucking asshole.

I was twenty four and had to tell him that I was a

bad girl. I hated him. I could have shot him in the head and

never felt bad about it. I could have even spit on him

while he bled out and died.

“Spread your legs, bad girl.”

I did as I was told, and he moved the vibration

between my legs. He pulled my hands back so that I could

lean back more and hold myself up. I tried not to moan as

he slid the vibrator up my already wet folds.

Stupid vagina, always taking his side.

“Does that feel good, bad girl?”

It was a trick question. I didn’t answer.

Drew moved around and sat in front of me,

spreading me as far as my legs would allow. He rubbed

the hard plastic vibrator down to my anus, and I knew

exactly where it was going to end up.

“Open your eyes,” he demanded when I felt the

vibrator penetrate my opening.

He slid it in slowly, enjoying the show as his free

hand massaged my wet core. I was okay with that. I was

used to being violated there. It was the next device that he

pulled from his bag that I despised. I almost stopped

breathing when he pulled out the rod that would send an

electrical current through all of my female parts, bring me

to an almost immediate orgasm, and then stop. I hated that

stupid thing and would have loved to shove it up his ass.

He smiled broadly when he saw the look on my

face. He moved the vibrator in and out of my ass a few

times, torturing me with the rod in his hand. I just wished

he would hurry up and get it over with, but that was too

easy. He got off on seeing the distress written all over my

face.

“This hurts my knees. Move onto the bench,” he

demanded.

Poor fucking baby.

I didn’t mind the bench. The floor was rather hard.

I limped when I put pressure on my sore ankle. Drew sat

at the end of the bench and put both my feet on the tops of

his legs. The vibrator was slowly moved back to where

Drew wanted it. He brought the wand to my clit, and I

jumped. He laughed. It wasn’t turned on.

Dickhead.

He pressed his thumb inside of me while he moved

the vibrator in and out of me. I wanted to come, oh how I

wanted to come. He continued his toying on me and then

stood to remove his clothes. He moved to the top of me

and stroked himself on my lips a little, before telling me to

open my mouth. He fucked my mouth until he was close. I

wished he would have just finished so that I could be

finished. He wasn’t about to do that. He wanted to play.

He moved back to below me, straddling the bench

and placing my feet back on his legs.

“I want to see if I can feel this too,” he said,

pulling me toward his erection, sliding into me. He hissed

as he pulled my hips in and out of him a couple of times,

but stopped. I knew he was getting close, and if he would

just allow some friction to his shaft we could be done with

his charade.

He laughed again when I tensed as he turned on the

rod that was going to drive me insane. It truly was a

torturing rod, and no matter how hard you tried. You

couldn’t come with it.

He pushed himself deep inside of me, and I held

my breath as he brought the tip of the rod to my core. He

did it in slow motion, rubbing it in as much as he could.

He split me more with his thumb and forefinger and

watched my face as he quickly touched my clit. I called

out in pleasuring pain. He rubbed me with his thumb,

spread me again with his fingers, and repeated the

process.

“I don’t feel any current, but you tighten around my

cock like crazy.”

Glad you’re enjoying it, fuckface.

I didn’t know how much more I was going to be

able to take. I wanted nothing more out of life than to be

released at that moment. I don’t know why thirteen, but

that is how many times I had to endure the torturing rod.

He probably wasn’t even counting, and that was the magic

number that he had gotten bored with it. I breathed a sigh

of relief when he laid it on the floor.

“Roll over,” he demanded, pulling the other object

from my rectum.

I lay on the skinny bench, and he moved my hands

back wanting me to spread myself for his entrance.

“Turn your head,” he demanded, wanting me to

watch. I did, not removing my hands from behind me, and

he pushed my hair from my eyes. I watched and felt the

drip from the cool gel.

“Keep your eyes opened,” he demanded when I

tightened them after feeling him penetrate my opening. He

frantically pumped in and out of my ass, and I knew it was

just a matter of time before he let go. He didn’t. He pulled

out and told me to get up.

I got up, and he lay on the bench with his hands

above his head. He stared up at me like I was stupid or

something. He bucked his hips, and I didn’t know whether

he wanted me to sit on him or give him a blowjob. He

jumped up and hit me right across my right eye.

“Sit down!” he screamed and lay back down.

He moaned as I took him in and out of my ass for a

few minutes, and finally, he released.

He stood and dressed as I caught a glimpse of my

battered face in the mirror. He left, locking the door

behind him.

Great.

It was just a matter of time before the room went

black again. I used the opportunity to release myself. I

knew I only needed a minute and hoped the lights didn’t

come back on before I was done. They didn’t, and

although I didn’t want to stay in the empty room, I wasn’t

frustrated anymore.

I was squirming in the warm sand after talking

about it with Dawson. I needed relief.

“He kept you in the room all night?” Dawson

asked.

“Yes. Can we go up to the house now?”

“You still haven’t told me how you got out.”

I leaned over and kissed him. “Daw, I can’t right

now. I need for you to take me up to the house and back to

bed.”

“Talking about it makes you want to have sex,

doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know if it makes me want to have sex, but

it definitely makes me frustrated.”

What Dawson did next took me by surprise. He

took off his jacket and laid it across my lap.

“Lay back,” he whispered to my lips.

“What are you doing?” I asked, already listening.

“Taking care of you, so you’ll keep talking to me.”

I looked around at the empty beach. John would

be walking back soon, but as soon as I felt him unbutton

my jeans and slide down the zipper, I didn’t care.

“Damn, you do need taken care of,” Dawson

agreed, feeling how wet I was.

It was quick. I don’t know if it even took five

minutes. I softly moaned, and Dawson kissed me, really

kissed me.

“I love you,” he said on my lips.

“Hmmm, I love you too,” I replied, still trying to

come down from what had just happened.

“Okay, you spent the night in the room,” Dawson

said, getting right back to what I didn’t want to talk about

anymore.

“Three nights. The only light that I saw for three

days was when I opened the little refrigerator. It almost

blinded me every time I reached in for water or the

veggies and fruit that he had left for me. He knew he was

locking me in that room before we ever went to that stupid

party. By the time I got out of there. I was ready to go

crazy. I think that was the whole point.”

I stopped there, and although I wasn’t happy about

the house fire in town, coming across Dawson’s hand held

scanner, I was happy that he had to leave for a while. That

was enough for one day.

Dawson was gone for around three hours. I had a

nice supper made when he got back.

“Hmm, something smells heavenly,” he said,

wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing the side of

my neck in the kitchen.

“Cube steak, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn and

rolls,” I described as I turned to him. “And you smell like

smoke. Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah, everyone was fine. The house is pretty

much history though. Do I have time for a shower?”

“Yes, I’ll set the table.”

I was just getting our two plates down from the

cabinet when Lauren came in.

“I swear I could smell your cooking from inside

my house,” she said, sitting at the table.

I laughed and grabbed another plate. She would

just be at my house later looking for food anyway. I

figured she may as well join us, not that she wasn’t going

to anyway.

“Do you ever eat at home?” Dawson asked,

coming to join not only me, but Lauren now too.

“Not really. Why would I?” she asked, and the bad

part was, she was dead serious.

She did stay and help clean up and was gone right

after.

Dawson and I settled into the sofa to watch Sunday

night football. I had never watched football until that fall.

It was one of my favorite past times with him. We had our

favorite teams and mine happened to be the 49ers. His

was Green Bay. I loved for him to sit and explain the

plays to me while I cuddled up to him on the couch. I had

never felt so safe and secure before him, and I cherished

the feel of his arms strongly around me.

I was glad for the distraction and was really

hoping that he didn’t bring up Drew again that night. I

knew that he wasn’t going to drop it for good, but I was

eager to let it go for a night.

“Take your sweats off,” he requested, pulling the

blanket from the back of the couch.

“What are you going to do me, Sherriff?” I asked

in a flirty tone as he lifted me out of them himself.

He didn’t answer. “Roll over,” he requested.

He didn’t do what I was expecting at all, and

massaged me from my neck to my feet. I don’t think I have

ever felt anything so relaxing in my life. His strong hands

felt amazing as he rubbed the tension right out of me. I’m

sure I moaned more than once.

“Roll over,” he said again. This time with a more

raspy sensual tone.

Hold your horses’ vagina.

I was instantly aroused when he slowly and

seductively slid my panties over my hips. He ran his hand

down my chest and my stomach. I swear his hands were

magical. Not really. I knew I felt this way with him

because he loved me, and wanted me to feel just what I

was feeling.

Dawson made slow love to me and stared down at

me with the most emotional eyes ever. I was sure that he

could see my battered soul. That’s how deep he was into

me.

“I love you, Riley,” he whispered as he pressed

himself in and out of me.

“Hmm, I love you too, Daw,” I was spent. I tried

to wait on him, but I couldn’t. I moaned a soft physical

moan and let go.

Once I was coherent enough after the amazing

orgasm, I opened my eyes and looked up at him.

He bent and kissed me softly. “I love pleasing

you,” he smiled. I was happy that he loved it. I loved that

he loved it.

We lay on the sofa naked, tangled in each other,

and finished watching the game. He got up and took my

hand after turning off the television. We again lay naked

engrossed in each other.

“Do you want to talk?” he whispered in the dark.

“That’s a rhetorical question,” I stated, and he

snickered.

“You don’t have to talk anymore tonight,” he said,

stressing the word tonight, meaning that I
was
going to

talk.

I didn’t have any recurring nightmares that night. I

was actually surprised that I didn’t with all the

reminiscing that Dawson insisted on.

We spent the next few nights at Dawson’s house

because he just couldn’t wait for one more day to start a

fire in his fire place. It was cozy, and I loved sitting in

front of it wrapped in his arms. I loved making love in

front of it even more. He hadn’t asked me about my past

anymore, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to bring it up.

We went to bed fairly early one night while at his

house, and I have no idea what triggered it. I was happy