Pennies (Dollar #1)

Temper masked my thoughts. “Don’t disobey a direct order, silent mouse. You have to do what I do, remember?” Taking her hand again, I guided it back into position.

Letting her go, I latched onto her knee, yanking her legs farther apart.

The moment I had a full view of her, I swallowed my groan. I’d seen many women in my travels; I’d sampled some and avoided others, but never seen one as pretty as Pimlico.

Could a woman be called pretty down there? Addictive and bare, yes, but pretty? I didn’t fucking know, but Pim was. Everything about her was delicate and petite, tucked away as if terrified of yet more abuse but still womanly enough to hold a hint of sex.

Biting my lip, I curled my fist to stop myself from touching her. If I felt her…that would be it. There would be no tease or appetiser, just a fucking banquet as I took her over and over again.

“Touch. Go on. I order you not to be shy.”

How could a sex slave be shy? Every part of her was owned by someone else. I didn’t understand the sudden terror on her features.

“Wait…” I paused. “You have come before, right?”

She froze.

Ah, fuck.

“You’ve…never come?”

What was I supposed to do with that?

She squeezed her eyes, trembling as if preparing for a beating. Would Alrik hurt her for such a thing?

Would I?

I ran a hand over my face. “You’ve never orgasmed with another person? How about on your own in private?”

Her entire body shot pink with embarrassment.

Her answer was loud and fucking clear.

Shit, how old is she?

How old was she when she was fucked for the first time? Surely, at some point, a release would’ve found her? Or at the very least, curiosity would’ve forced her to find it on her own if not with another?

My first orgasm was when I was twelve while I slept behind a dumpster. It’d been the only good thing in a sea of awful. After that, I’d become rather addicted to the brief but blistering bliss I could administer.

If Pim had never been given such a tool, how had she survived this long? How had she not wasted away and willed herself into a coffin whenever Alrik summoned her?

Goddammit, tonight just became far more complicated than I’d planned.

At least, she hadn’t moved her hand this time.

I shifted my body closer, wedging my dragon-tattooed chest against her nakedness and placing a trouser-clad leg over her thigh, holding her down. With our eyes tangled, I once again looped my fingers with hers directly over her pussy. “You have to do what I do. But for now, we’ll do it together.”

Putting pressure on her middle finger, I forced her to stroke her clit. The warmth from her skin seeped into me, regardless that I wasn’t the one touching her.

My cock hardened to the point of pain. Seeking salvation, I rocked against her hip.

Her eyes flared.

I rocked again, hating that her sharp hipbone dug so bloody right against my erection. “I’ll show you how. But to do so, I’m going to have to use you in other ways. Otherwise, I’ll go out of my fucking mind.”

She shied away even as I forced her hand south, finding her entrance.

“No, you’re not running. Not this time.”

Breathing hard, I ordered my rapidly fading control to stay strong. This would test my limits. She would test my limits.

“Get ready to touch yourself, silent mouse. I’m going to enjoy this.”

HOLY SHIT, WHAT is he doing?

I stiffened as his hand forced mine, pressing my middle finger, giving me no option but to obey. My knuckles grew hot as his large palm smothered me.

I couldn’t look away as his teeth clamped his bottom lip. He made it impossible to prevent every cell burning with the erotic way he thrust against my hip. He hadn't removed his trousers, but that didn’t stop the steel heat of his erection branding me.

Too much was happening.

Too many stimuli.

I didn’t know what to focus on: his body sandwiched along mine, his hand ordering me to feel myself, or his cock taking pleasure from me in the strangest of ways.

He made me claustrophobic and prickly.

I want to run!

But then, everything else faded as the tip of my finger entered me.

Stop!

I deplored it.

I loathed it.

I…hated, hated, hated it.

My finger was so slim and small compared to what normally brutalised me. My nail was sharp as it slid inside me with the aid of Mr. Prest’s domination. My body stretched to accommodate the skinny digit and the strangest sensation of feeling myself made me shiver with wrongness.

I’d never touched anything so weird in all my life.

I wanted it over.

Now!

“Does it feel strange?” Mr. Prest angled my hand, pushing deeper.

My face contorted as the pad of my finger found an odd ridge inside me—something not quite as flexible or as warm as the rest.

Was it a scar from the mistreatment I’d endured? An injury that would never fully heal? Whatever it was vanished in importance as he forced me to sink further.

His deep voice rumbled from his chest to mine. “Do you like it?”

Like it?

No, I don’t like it.

I suffered guilt and shame and confusion.

He chuckled softly. “You’ll grow to like it…just wait and see.”

I doubt it.

He laughed again, his wrist shifting to capture my first finger and dip inside me, too. This time, the pressure and stretching was greater. However, two of my fingers were still far narrower than Master A’s cock.