Dirty (A Damaged Romance Duet Book 1)

by Michelle Horst

  That was the day I promised to find a way I could make up for all the evil he has done. I didn’t want people to feel that kind of terror. My prayers were finally answered when he died.

  When Jack frowns, I quickly explain, “I don’t have sex. I don’t like it.” The words are blunt, and I realize my mistake when Jack’s frown deepens. To recover the ground I’ve lost, I quickly say, “However, I do like to watch.”

  I curse myself for thinking of the past when I have to focus on the mission at hand.

  When he grasps what I’m asking for, Jack’s tight features relax a little. Something stirs in his eyes. Did I see right? Was that empathy?

  Hesitantly, I raise my hand to his face. He’s too alive to be a slave. This man feels everything. His suffering must be so much worse than those who manage to switch off. I can’t begin to imagine how he has survived for so long.

  Gently, I brush the tips of my fingers over his cheek. I have no excuse for touching him. I don’t make a habit of touching the people I save, but Jack is different from anyone else I’ve ever met. I can’t explain it. I have an overwhelming need to comfort him. I want to tell him that he will be free. I want to promise him that he’ll never be hurt again.

  But, I keep all the words in, and try to show him with my eyes that everything will be okay from now on.

  I drop my hand away from his warm skin, and walk to the table in the corner of the room. When I take a seat, I make sure my back is to the camera, so they can’t see my face.

  “Satisfy yourself,” I whisper.

  Jack’s eyes linger on me, but then he kneels down on the floor. When he starts to remove the towel, I look away and stare out the window at the dark night. It’s the only privacy I can offer him.

  As the minutes pass, I hear nothing. He doesn’t move at all. My eyes flit back to Jack. He’s still on his knees, his hands resting on his thighs. When my eyes meet his, I’m shocked at what I find. He’s silently daring me to force him to carry out my order. He won’t do anything willingly. If I want anything from him, I’ll have to make him do it.

  This is why they pay so much for him. They want to conquer this wild man.

  I get up and walk over to him. Kneeling in front of him, I take a deep breath. I lean a little forward and whisper so only he can hear me, “I’m not going to hurt you, Jack.”

  For a moment I watch the battle play off over his tense features. His lips part and his voice is deep and hot, like an ocean of lava. “I won’t submit. If you want my body, you’ll have to take it by force.”

  Chapter 3

  Jack

  Feelings swamp me. I’ve always been able to shut down. It’s not because she’s … nice. Mistress Claire is also kind but that doesn’t make her any less of a monster.

  This woman confuses me. She doesn’t like sex, yet she’s here. Good people don’t come to places like this. Any person who is willing to do business with Cameron, is just as fucked up as he is.

  She brings her hand to my cheek and her touch is soft, just like her eyes. She doesn’t look at me with the same lust filled look I normally get. It’s as if she doesn’t see me as an object, but as a man. It’s confusing the hell out of me. I hate that I can’t figure her out. It makes her dangerous because I don’t know what to expect from her.

  I’ve never been in a situation like this before. People always want something from me, either my cock, or my ass, and sometimes my blood.

  Her eyes aren’t filled with hatred and greed. They’re soft and filled with messages I don’t understand.

  When she takes a seat at the table, I start to wonder if she’s crazy. Is she really not going to fuck me? This whole evening with her is foreign to me.

  “Satisfy yourself,” she orders. There’s no bite in her voice, which is unusual.

  I lower myself to the floor and kneel down. When I remove the towel, she looks away. She’s messing with my fucking head. Maybe she’s the kind that enjoys playing sick games. Yes, that’s it! She’s the kind that makes you lower your guard. She’s more dangerous than Mistress Westbrook. This woman wants to rip your soul apart.

  My eyes never leave her. I wait for her to strike. I have to be ready.

  A sad look fills her eyes, and it makes them shimmer. For the first time since I’ve laid eyes on her, I start to wonder about her. Could she really be different, or is this all pretend?

  Feelings like anger, disgust and resentment fits me like a second skin. Sorrow and hatred for what happened to my mother, follows me like a shadow. Worry for David’s safety, keeps me vigilant.

  I’ve never felt anything else.

  There’s a slight tightening in my chest, and I don’t know what to make of it. As more time passes and she just sits there, staring out the window, the feeling grows.

  I glare darkly at her, wishing she would just fucking get it over with already.

  She finally looks at me, and my body tenses as it waits for her to attack.

  She gets up, and I watch every movement as she walks to me.

  As she kneels in front of me, I have to clench my jaw to keep from attacking her. My soul is screaming for me to kill her before she can hurt me.

  Everything about her is a carefully constructed lie. The soft look in her eyes will fool you into believing that she cares about you. Her gentle touch will make you feel at ease around her. The faint scent of flowers and her beauty are there to dull your senses.

  But I know better. People like her only care about power.

  I watch as her lips part. She sucks in a breath before leaning forward, and whispering, “I’m not going hurt you, Jack.”

  When I hear her whisper my name, I realize that she has not once called me slave. Only Sophia calls me by my name.

  It’s just another trick.

  The number one rule for a slave is to always do what a mistress or master wants you to do. If they ask you whether you want your freedom you answer no, because that is what they want to hear. If they ask you if you want to be flogged or whipped, you answer yes, because it’s for their satisfaction that you will bleed and scream.

  I let my eyes travel over the woman’s head and focus on the wall. I can’t let her get to me. I have to keep my focus on David.

  “I won’t submit. If you want my body, you’ll have to take it by force,” I grind the words out, making it clear that I’m not an idiot. I won’t fall for her games.

  Chapter 4

  River

  His eyes focus somewhere behind me, a blank look coming over his face. It cuts deep into my soul to see him switching off, as he prepares himself to violated.

  I get up from the floor. I’m tired. This night has been painfully long.

  “Let’s just sleep, Jack. It’s been a long night.”

  I walk to the bed and throw back the covers.

  “Get in bed and sleep,” I command.

  I wait for Jack to slip under the covers, before I glance at him. His eyes are focused on the ceiling, but I know that he’s aware of every movement I make.

  I switch off the light and then walk around the bed to the other side. I strip out of the ridiculously tight outfit, keeping on the bra and panty set.

  I get in next to Jack and then turn my back to him. “Night, Jack,” I whisper.

  I can hear him breathing behind me. He’s not moving a muscle, most probably waiting for me to pounce on him. I hate that he’s on guard around me.

  Slowly, I turn around until I’m facing him. I’m careful as I move closer to him. I feel for his hand under the covers and just hold it.

  “I saw you working in the garden earlier, is that something you like to do?” I whisper so only he can hear me.

  “Yes,” he says, his voice clipped with no emotion.

  “My favorite flower is a daisy.” I glance up at him, trying to see his reaction in the meager light the moon is offering through the window. “Have you seen a Brown Betty?”

  He doesn’t respond. Not that I expected him to.

  “The Black-Eyed Su
san is the state flower of Maryland. It has thirteen petals. Thirteen is my lucky number.”

  My mind races, searching for something else I can tell him. “Do you like water?”

  “Yes,” he answers, but this time his tone doesn’t carry a sharp edge. It gives me hope that someday I’ll be able to get through to him.

  “Me too,” I say. I can’t wait to go home. “I love how it brings life to everything around it.”

  Silence engulfs us again but this time it’s not as tense. I close my eyes, and keeping hold of Jack’s hand, I drift between sleep and consciousness. I’ll never be able to get a good night’s rest in one of these places.

  In the early hours of the morning, Jack gets up. I feel guilty for watching him as he walks to the bathroom, but he’s a masterpiece. Seconds later he comes out dressed in his jeans.

  He walks to the door and unlocks it, before turning back to me. His eyes are filled with confusion when he asks, “Will that be all you require of me, Mistress Ryland?”

  “Yes, Jack,” I sigh heavily as I get out of bed.

  I force my body back into the ridiculous outfit from the night before. When I look up, I find Jack’s eyes on me. I can see the questions starting to form on his face. He’s not sure what to make of me.

  I walk to where he’s standing and standing on my toes, I press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you soon, Jack.”

  He frowns at me, and for a moment it looks like he wants to say something, but then he turns and walks away.

  I return to the room I share with Adam, wishing we could just pack up and go home.

  I find Adam sitting on the bed, his face in his hands.

  “Morning,” I say softly, so I don’t give him a fright. He hates it when people sneak up on him. I did it once and I landed flat on my back with an angry Adam towering over me.

  He looks up, a world of exhaustion clouding his face.

  I crawl onto the bed behind him and pull at his arm until he stretches out next to me.

  I place my head on his shoulder. “Want to talk about it?”

  He shakes his head. Adam is not a talker.

  We both just take comfort in the others presence until there is a knock at our door. Adam gets up and opens the door to a girl. She pushes in a cart, and the smell of coffee makes me get up.

  I have some coffee while Adam enjoys the bacon and eggs. I usually have a healthy appetite, but after a night like the one I just had, food is the farthest thing from my mind.

  After coffee, I go to shower. When I’m done, I walk over to the window. I stare out over the estate while Adam freshens up. The garden is really pretty. I wonder if it’s all Jack’s work. If he really loves gardening then I’ll make sure that he can continue his hobby back at the sanctuary.

  Chapter 5

  Jack

  As I make my way to the room where Mistress Claire is waiting for me, I can’t help wondering about Mistress Ryland. I’m even more confused. Not once did she try anything with me. She just held my hand. When she drifted off to sleep, I relaxed enough to take in the feel of her hand on mine. It stirred something deep in me, something that closely resembled survival.

  I knock once and then I let myself in. I close the door behind me and before I can kneel Mistress Claire comes to me.

  “Ahh … there you are, my pet.” She kisses both my cheeks. She smiles up at me for a moment, as if I’m a precious possession.

  “I want to take you hard today. I’ve had an awful week.”

  I step out of my jeans before I start to undress Mistress Claire. I make sure to brush the back of my fingers against her skin. She likes that. When we’re both naked, I go to the bed and position my body over the length of it. I’m never on top. It’s one of the rules to always remind me that I’m a slave.

  Mistress Claire crawls on top of me. She takes hold of my cock, positions it at her opening and then slides over me. It’s easy to just go through the actions with her. I don’t feel like I have to fight, as she’s not out to hurt me. She just wants a good fuck.

  “Oh my, how I’ve missed your cock this week,” she murmurs as she starts to move up and down. She takes my hands and places them on her hips. “You know how much I love it when you touch me.”

  I hold her for a while, and then she begs, “Dig your fingers in, my pet. I want to feel your strength on my body.”

  I do as she asks, tightening my hold on her. She starts to bounce hard on me, and her breaths rasp over her parted lips. Just as she’s about to come she stops. Her face contorts into a lust filled smirk.

  “I’ve been a bad girl, my pet.”

  I scoot to the edge of the bed and she crawls over my lap.

  “I have to be punished,” she purrs.

  I slap her ass and she jerks against my legs.

  “Harder. Hit me harder.”

  I slap her harder, giving her what she wants until my palm stings.

  She gets up and then sits on my lap with her back to me. She takes my cock in all the way and then starts to move faster again.

  Taking my hands, she pulls my arms around her. She shoves one down between her legs, until it covers her pussy. I can feel as my cock slides in and out of her, and it makes a wave of disgust hit hard.

  “Pinch me hard!”

  My fingers find her nub, and I pinch it until she starts to convulse on top of me. She moans deeply as she finds the pleasure she’s paid for.

  When she’s done coming, she gets up and goes to the bathroom.

  I stay seated on the bed. Sometimes she wants to come more than once.

  When she’s finished in the bathroom she gets dressed and it makes a wave of relief wash over me.

  “That will be all for today, my pet.”

  Her facial expression is always sad after an appointment with me. It’s as if she actually feels guilty for coming here.

  I wake early on Saturday morning. Cameron always has an appointment for me on a Saturday night. Sometimes it’s a private party I have to attend, and sometimes it’s a one on one fuck.

  I spend the day outside clearing weeds and tending to the gardens. When it’s late in the afternoon, I go back to my room. I eat the food that was left in my room at lunch time, before I go to get ready for the appointment.

  Dressed in jeans and the leather bands, I leave to go to the room that is always assigned for the clients coming to see me. Most of the slaves are kept in a building separate from the main house. Sophia and I are kept in the house, on the ground floor. The visitors’ rooms are all on the second floor. The third floor is reserved for Cameron. Everything has its place here, exactly how Cameron wants it.

  I knock once and open the door. With my eyes on the floor, I enter. I close the door behind me with a soft click. I go down into my kneeling position and wait for the orders to come.

  I feel a soft pat on my head and icy chills race down my spine. Fuck. I close my eyes as anger and disgust explode in my chest.

  “You may rise, Slave,” Mistress Westbrook purrs.

  It’s seldom that she’ll book an appointment with me outside of a party. But when she does it’s a fucking nightmare. Heaviness fills my chest as I get up.

  I glare at her, not even bothering to hide the hatred I feel.

  “I’m disappointed that we didn’t get to finish the other night. You know what happens when I’m disappointed?”

  I keep perfectly still. There is no need to answer her.

  “Take off the jeans!” she snaps.

  I just stare at her. She should know me better by now. I’ll never obey her.

  Her face draws tight with rage. She raises her hand and when the palm of her hand connects with my cheek, I keep my eyes locked with hers. It only angers her more.

  She starts to yank at the jeans and then shoves them down my legs. Once I’m bare, the old bitch grabs hold of my cock. I can’t stop the shiver of repulsion from spreading through my body. I hate this woman so much. She works roughly with me as she places the same straps from Thursday night a
round the base and at the head of my cock.

  “If you don’t want me telling Cameron of your disobedience, you’ll do as you’re told. Go kneel on the bed.”

  I wish I could kill her. I have a burning desire to wrap my hands around her next, and to force the air from her lungs until she’s nothing but a lifeless shell.

  But, she will run to Cameron, and I can’t risk David’s safety for this woman.

  I walk over to the bed and get on top of the covers. I kneel down in the same way Sophia does, with my cheek pressed against the covers, my knees open wide, and my ass in the air.

  “Fuck him,” the old bitch barks at her spineless husband. He seldom talks and lets her have full control over every meeting.

  I hear him move and then his cock presses against my ass. A burning sensation fills me as he pushes in. I close my eyes and try to let my mind escape to the gardens outside. I focus on the smell of the ground. I think of the plants and flowers.

  An electric pulse sizzles up my cock, splintering my focus. My hips jerk just as Master Westbrook shoves back inside me. He groans loudly, and starts to thrust harder.

  I grab fistfuls of the covers beneath me and press my face hard into it. I can’t find my escape again. Another electric pulse shoots through me, and my cock starts to harden.

  Rage burns through me and before I can calm myself, I kick back. My foot slams into the man’s hip, and the blow sends him sprawling across the floor.

  “That’s it!” The old bitch shrieks with delight. “Fight back, Slave. It will only make my victory so much better when I break you.”

  The electric pulse hits again, much stronger than before. There’s no relief as the pulse keeps intensifying. It slams me back on the bed, lifting my hips off the mattress. It feels as if my cock is going to explode.

  Fuck! Disgust overwhelms me and then cum spurts over my abdomen.

  “It’s my turn,” Westbrook says with a voice filled with victory. My body is numb from the assault but I try to sit up so I can fucking fight back. Westbrook climbs on top of me, shoving me back down. “I told you I would make you come,” she gloats.