Underestimated (Underestimated, #1)

I should have known that it was just for show, but a little part of me wanted to believe that he wanted me and that the rings were a symbol of that. I slid the rings from my finger, and he dropped them in his shirt pocket. He still didn’t tell me who the man was, and I was a little taken aback at how he seemed to cower to the older man.

The driver didn’t drive us home, and we went to a penthouse in downtown Las Vegas. I knew that it wasn’t going to be a pleasant romantic evening, and I was in for a night of hell. That was an understatement. I froze as he led me to the bedroom. The bed was draped with a red velvet cover and had black straps with soft red collars at all four post. There was a table with different sex toys laid out, and I knew that they were all for me.

“The next time somebody asks me to leave you alone with them, and you hear me say that I don’t think that it is a good idea, you need to agree and ask me to stay,” he said in a low warning tone as he circled me and kissed my bare chest.

“You should have clarified that before we got there. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I don’t even know who the guy is,” I tried to explain and took an angry blow from the back of his hand.

“You shouldn’t be so stupid,” he accused. “Don’t you ever talk to someone without my presence again. Do you understand, Morgan?”

“Yes, Drew,” I answered, holding my face.

“My father is none of your fucking business.

Nothing I do is any of your business. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

Father?

“Yes, Drew,” I answered again. He seemed to think that I gave a half of an ounce about what he did. I didn’t, and I didn’t want to know him, his father, or what he did. I just wanted out of that room, and was terrified that he was going to hurt me.

“Take your clothes off and lay on the bed,” he demanded and left the room.

The first thing that I did was walk to the glass doors. I didn’t care that I was somewhere high in the sky. I would jump. It would have been better than living and being married to that monster. The doors were locked and wouldn’t budge, of course. That was my luck. I didn’t know how much time I had before he came back, so I did the only thing that could do. I undressed and lay on the bed, close to the edge with my feet crossed, trying to cover my naked body as long as he would allow it.

He returned a few minutes later with a drink in his hand. “Hmm,” he moaned, staring at my naked body. He caressed my breast and pinched my nipple.

“Do you want spanked first or would you rather I fuck your *?” he asked, gesturing his hand along the table of tools that he would use on me. The sick bastard was going to make me decide. He was going to do both, so it didn’t really matter in my book.

“Spank me,” I answered.

“You like it when I spank you, don’t you, Morgan?” he asked as he ran his fingers up my sex, sipping his drink.

Stupid, deserter, vagina.

“Answer me,” he demanded, lifting my leg so that he could get a better view.

“Yes. Drew,” I answered in a whisper.

He pulled an ice cube from his drink and held it over me. “Spread your legs. You like spreading your legs, that’s why your * is always so wet. Did you know that, Morgan? Did you know that you get so wet because you love the things that I do to you?” he asked. I flinched a little at the ice-cold droplet of water on my clit as I pulled both of my legs higher.

I hated what he did, but was he right? Was that why I always got so wet when he did the things that he did? Maybe I was as sick as him.

I could feel the bed becoming wet as the water droplets ran from my clit to my opening, and onto the bed.

I was almost numb from the cold by the time the ice cube was gone. Drew sat his cup down, and my heart started to beat a little faster, anticipating what was about to come.

He undressed and sat on the side of the bed. He was already harder than iron, and it stood at attention when he scooted back, making room for me on his lap. He looked over at me and moved his hand, letting me know what I needed to do.

I pulled myself up and lay across his lap. I could feel his shaft on my hip as he thrust it into me a little, needing the contact. He rubbed his hand over my bottom a couple of times and moaned.

“You may be a stupid hillbilly and not good for much, but sure am glad I have you around for this,” he said, and I grimaced at the first blow to my bare cheeks.

He spanked me more and longer than he ever had, and I was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to stop. I could feel his welted handprints on my ass, and I didn’t think it could sting any more than it was.

Finally, he was bored with that and told me to get up. He laid long ways on the bed, and I stood there awkwardly waiting for his orders on what I was to do next.

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