Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I felt his power when he handled me, when he spanked me like a little girl, when he made it clear that there was no choice for me to do anything other than submit to him. My ass is still tingling from his punishment, and other unspeakable parts of me are tingling and pulsing and… I am so physically confused right now.
He is a mystery. I have to hate him, because he touched me roughly, not to mention bought me. He is the final act of the hellish play I’ve been trying to avoid since I worked out what the orphanage really is—a front for human trafficking.
He was there to buy someone.
He bought me.
He’s not a good guy. I can’t let myself think that he is just because he makes my heart race and my lower belly and inner thighs squeeze instinctively together when I look at him.
This is what men do. This is what they are like. Matron warned us plenty of times not to be caught in the company of men outside the orphanage. She told us that they are capable of terrible things, and would likely defile us, take our virginity. I didn’t really believe her, right up until I did.
This man is a cathedral of confusion. I do not know how to interpret him. He wants me to trust him, but that’s impossible. It would require me to stop thinking entirely.
Aside from my youth, I can’t see any reason for him to be interested in me—and everybody on sale at the orphanage was young. He could have picked one of the nicer, prettier girls. The ones who had done their hair and whose makeup wasn’t hastily inflicted upon them.
I know I don’t look my best, and I know my best is not the best. So why me? Why am I here in this car with this man whose scent alone makes me want to do things I’ve never wanted to do before? Every breath I take is filled with him. He is taking up the entire field of my vision. I am absolutely fixated on him.
I tell myself I am just getting to know my newest enemy, but the truth is I am struggling to avoid falling into whatever trap is obviously being set here. I can feel wetness between my legs. An arousal that I don’t want to be feeling, but can’t seem to help.
When he smiles, I feel myself melt.
I am being hijacked by my libido. Hormones doing hormone things with no understanding of how much danger I am in. There is no good reason for good men to show up to an orphanage to buy girls who have just aged out of the system. Whoever this man is, however attractive I might imagine him to be, he is a predator.
“Don’t you mean sigma? Isn’t that the new term for douchebags with too much money? Don’t tell me, you’re the best at video games in the world, too.”
“I don’t play games,” he says, his lips quirking at me with a little amusement. “And I don’t mind attitude either, but you might want to keep a few things to yourself, because there’s more going on than you understand.”
“Right, you showed up to a barely legal teen auction because you’re a good guy alpha dog.”
I think about throwing myself out of the car. It would probably hurt, but it would get me out of the danger I can feel I am in. There is an intensity about this man that makes my stomach do flips.
“I came because I was searching for something. And I found it.”
“You were looking for the craziest girl in the orphanage?”
He tilts his head slightly. “What makes you say you’re crazy?”
“Everybody has told me I am crazy since I was taken there when I was seven. I insisted on telling them that I was a wolf. They laughed at me at first, then they punished me for saying it. Then, when I got older, and still wouldn’t let go of the delusion, they gave me pills that stopped me from saying or thinking anything.”
I see his fingers flex, then curl into a fist. He covers it with his other hand, tries to force the tension out of his jaw. He forces a smile that is more like a snarl. He seems genuinely angry about what he is hearing and he is trying to hide it.
Strange.
“Are you still on the medication?”
“No. I refused to take it anymore, once I got big enough to make it hard for them. They tried to make me for a while, hid it in my food, tried to deny me food at all unless I took it, but it was too much work. I don’t make it easy. Besides, after a while, I knew what I was.”
There’s warning for him in that sentence. He won’t find me an easy captive. I don’t care if I want him. I don’t care if I need him. I won’t ever give myself to him. I have been starved of everything that matters. He cannot take anything from me that someone else has not already tried to take—and failed.