[His for a Week 01.0] Bought

by EM BROWN

  He slid his fingers up and down her clit. Her breathing became erratic. Her lashes fluttered quickly, and she grasped the armrest with her right hand. When his digits circled the engorged nub, she surrendered a soft moan.

  “That’s a good pet. I want you to get nice and aroused for your Master.”

  The road curved a lot, but he managed to maneuver the steering wheel with one hand without losing the rhythm of his stroking. She closed her eyes. Muted grunts—little pleas for more—escaped from her throat.

  She knit her brows. “Ohhh...”

  He could feel her tighten below. What he wouldn’t give to be buried in her arse right now as the regions of her sex clenched She gripped the armrest harder.

  “If you want to come, just ask permission,” he told her.

  Eyes still closed, she moaned something unintelligible.

  “Coming without permission is bad sub behavior.”

  He dipped his fingers lower and passed over her pisshole. She nearly leaped out of her skin with a startled gasp.

  “Did you know orgasms can be more intense on a full bladder?” he asked, noting that it hadn’t taken her long to reach her current level of arousal.

  She managed to shake her head a little.

  “Want to see if it’s true?”

  She didn’t reply, but her eyes flew open when he caressed her urethral opening again. Her mouth hung open, and she probably couldn’t close it if she tried.

  “Jesus,” she pleaded.

  “Does my pet want to come?”

  Her left hand gripped the seat belt. She looked as if she were bracing for a steep descent off the top of a roller coast. He wanted to see her fall into pieces.

  “Does she?” he asked.

  “...un-hunh...” she whimpered.

  “Then ask permission.”

  “M-May I come?”

  “Please.”

  “P-Please may I come?”

  He returned his gaze to the window because he had just pulled up in front of the cabin. He pulled his hand out of her shorts. “You may. Later.”

  She looked confused. “Wha...?”

  He shut off the engine, grabbed the keys, and opened his door. “Maybe next time you’ll obey my orders a little faster.”

  Her expression went from shock to anger. Her glare told him he was a bigger jerk than she had thought. He got out of the car and adjusted his crotch.

  Learning the hard way wasn’t fun, but it was more effective. And since they only had a week—correction, six days—he didn’t have time to piss around with being too gentle and nurturing. He had gone over twenty-four hours in her company, seeing her naked, feeling her body, watching her come. It was finally going to be his turn.

  CHAPTER SIX

  When Ben opened the passenger-side door, Kimani didn’t want to get out. She wanted to stay in the Jeep and have him finish what he had been doing.

  How could he be so nice one minute, buying her clothes and taking her to tea, and be such a jerk the next?

  “Come on,” he said, holding all the bags from their shopping excursion.

  “I need a minute to compose myself,” she responded through gritted teeth.

  He gave a her a stern look. “You haven’t learned your lesson on compliance yet?”

  She had a childish impulse to grab those fancy Louis Vuitton shades off his face and crumple them to pieces. With a huff, she zipped and buttoned her shorts, then got out of the car.

  I did not sign up for this.

  Yes, you did.

  She shook her head at the devil’s advocate inside of her. Right now she was too upset for rational thought. Her body still vibrated from arousal, still craved the promise of a more intense orgasm. Based on how quickly the tension had mounted inside her and how his caress had sent waves of pleasure throughout her, she had expected his statement about a full bladder to prove true for her.

  But now she wouldn’t get to find out.

  He nodded toward the cabin, indicating she should go first, almost as if he intended to be chivalrous. But he was far from chivalrous, making her walk into the cabin to face all the others in her current state.

  “Don’t you need to use the bathroom?” he asked when she didn’t move.

  She searched for his eyes behind his shades and found them. “Fuck you.”

  He looked amused. For a second. The next, his hand was curled around the back of her neck, pulling her head toward him. The jerk had moves as swift as Jet Li.

  “That’s going to cost you, pet.”

  After he released her, she stumbled in her attempt to walk forward but straightened when he grabbed her to steady her.

  “I’m fine,” she snapped, not wanting him to touch her. Bad things happened when he touched her.

  He let her go, and she stomped to the cabin door. Vince opened on the second ring of the doorbell. The others were in the great room, the men lounging on the sofa, their feet propped on human footstools. Lisa, Claire and Ryan were still in their birthday suits. Kimani wondered how long they had been made to kneel on all fours.

  “About time,” Jake drawled. He had been the one that all the women wanted at the auction, but Kimani could only see him now as ugly. “Did you forget Slut #2 is supposed to make dinner?”

  “Where were you?” Jason asked Ben.

  A golf tournament was playing on the television screen, which came down from an in-ceiling motorized lift mount.

  “Shopping,” Ben replied.

  Claire perked up.

  Jake rolled his eyes. “Pussy stuff.”

  “Can your slut make dinner fast?” Jason asked. “I’m starving.”

  “I’ve got to use the bathroom first,” Kimani answered, but before she moved, she turned to Ben. “May I, Master?”

  “You may,” he said, his tone no longer stern.

  Taking the bag that held her purchases, she hurried to the bathroom. Her body was still tense down there, so the pee didn’t come out right away. Relieving herself had never felt so unsatisfying. She cursed Ben as she sat on the toilet. She did not enjoy having to ask his permission to use the bathroom but didn’t want to risk his teaching her another “lesson.” As if a man in his position didn’t already get anything he wanted, however he wanted, he had to lord over her body functions, too?

  I’m just role-playing, she reminded herself. This is for The Tribune, your career.

  The longer she hung around, the more she could witness. She needed to deepen the rapport between her and the other women if she hoped to include their stories.

  Feeling a little better, she washed up before heading to the kitchen, glad to be making dinner instead of posing as furniture. She noticed Ben wasn’t around as she searched for something fast and easy. Finding pasta, she pulled out a pot to boil water. Opening the fridge, she looked for ingredients to make a salad. Chopping the vegetables also made her feel better and allowed the last of the agitation in her body to simmer down.

  Ben wasn’t gone long, but he let her have her space, choosing instead to work on his iPad at the dining table. Jake, after helping himself to a shot of a whiskey, sauntered over to Ben.

  “Your slut must’ve done something nice to earn clothes,” Jake said. “She suck you off good?”

  “What’s it to you?” Ben asked without looking up from his tablet.

  “Well, I have certain rules and expectations I like to enforce here at the cabin, and it helps when we’re all on the same page.”

  “Like what?”

  “You take your slut shopping, all the other sluts are going to want to go shopping, too. And I don’t do that kind of shit.”

  “So don’t.”

  Jake pressed his lips together. “I just don’t want them getting the wrong idea.”

  “I don’t see your sub pushing for anything against your wishes.”

  “Yeah, I put my foot down in no uncertain terms on day one. You’ve only got one chance at making a first impression.” When Ben didn’t respond, Jake continued. “It’s not just
in play, you know. Women in general, whether they’re into BDSM or not, don’t want to be treated too well. The more you treat them like shit, the more they want you. Just like they want a guy who sleeps around. It’s why nice guys always finish last.”

  Ben looked at Jake. “Are you giving me this advice because you’re worried I’m nice?”

  He’s not that nice, Kimani wanted to inform Jake as she dumped sliced red onions into the salad bowl.

  Jake looked over in her direction. “Anytime you think your slut needs to learn who’s boss, just send her my way.”

  Ben’s jaw immediately tightened, but an incoming call to his cell cut off his response. He glanced to see who it was before accepting the call, walking away from the table toward the hall.

  Kimani wouldn’t have cared where Ben went except for the fact that Jake had wandered into the kitchen.

  “You look better without clothes,” he said after perusing her from head to toe. “You should’ve stuck with me. I’m much better at being the Dom.”

  She bit her tongue to keep from retorting that it had been his decision to sell her. Instead, she kept her gaze on the cucumber she was slicing.

  “That’s all I was doing that first day,” Jake said, “establishing our roles: mine as the dominant and yours as the submissive. It’s why you did the Scarlet Auction, isn’t it? To live out your own version of Fifty Shades? That Chinaman doesn’t have what it takes.”

  She glanced up sharply at him. “Does Ben know you use words like that?”

  “Ben? You call him by his first name?” Jake shook his head.

  “I don’t think he’d appreciate being called that.”

  “What are you, some politically correct bitch?” He leaned in close enough for her to smell the whiskey on his breath. “I bet I could fuck the political correctness out of you nice and good.”

  Deciding she’d rather stand next to a leper, she stepped back and reached for the bottles of olive oil and balsamic vinegar to make a dressing. Jake leaned against the counter and observed her with a look that was half interest, half disgust.

  “Maybe I should buy you back,” he mused aloud. “Give you a proper pounding.”

  The prospect made her skin crawl. Ben wouldn’t let that happen. Right?

  “I’m not a good sub,” she muttered.

  “That’s cause you don’t have a good Dom.”

  Standing in the corner, she had no room to maneuver when he bridged the short distance between them. “You ever had white cock?”

  No, and I certainly don’t want yours.

  He leered at her. “You’re on the lighter side. Somewhere your ancestors took white cock.”

  “Not willingly,” she retorted.

  “You don’t know that. Who knows? Maybe once you go white, you don’t go back to black. So how about it? Let Ching Chong know you want dick from a real Dom.”

  He brushed the knuckles of his right hand along her right arm. She flinched away. “Get your stinking KKK hands off me.”

  The area about his mouth went white. Her arms went up as she braced herself to be hit. But the sound of Ben’s voice stayed Jake from whatever he was about to do.

  “Call me tomorrow then,” Ben was saying into his cell, his voice growing louder as he neared the kitchen.

  Jake narrowed his eyes at her. “Changed my mind. Your cunt’s not worth it.”

  With a final glare, he turned around and nearly walked into Ben.

  “You’re not messing with my sub, are you?” Ben asked with a frown.

  “Not a chance,” Jake replied. “I couldn’t be happier you took her off my hands.”

  “Good. I don’t touch yours. You don’t touch mine.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jake grumbled as he exited the kitchen.

  Kimani went back to making the salad, spilling the vinegar on the counter when she tipped the bottle too quickly. Her quickened heartbeat hadn’t gone back to normal yet. For a moment, she had been sure she was going to end up with a second bruise to go with her first.

  “What was Jake doing in the kitchen?” Ben asked, watching her.

  “Being Jake,” she muttered.

  “He give you trouble?”

  She considered telling him the truth. She would like nothing more than to see Ben, if he were so inclined, beat the crap out of Jake. But what if Jake threw them out of his cabin? Without having exchanged numbers with the women, she’d have no way of contacting them. And she couldn’t leave Claire. It was fortunate that Jake had ended up with someone whose disposition tolerated his assholeness.

  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  Her response, however, felt like a lie. She couldn’t have been more relieved to hear Ben’s voice. And it sucked. She didn’t want to have to depend on Ben, whom she wondered whether she could trust a hundred percent, given that they’d known each other all of thirty hours. But if Ben hadn’t arrived, she’d be stuck with Jake. The thought made her shudder.

  That was what was so messed up with the setup of the Scarlet Auction. The women were put in powerless situations—and not just for the sake of kinky role-playing.

  As she tossed the salad, she silently vowed that she would write the story that would put an end to the Scarlet Auction.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Dude, how many calls you going to get in one evening?” Derek asked over the table when Ben’s phone rang for the third time during dinner.

  “It’s Monday morning in Hong Kong,” Ben explained as he got up. He almost didn’t want to let Jake and Kimani out of his sight. She had been agitated in the kitchen. But since she was having her spaghetti and salad over with the other women at the coffee table, she was probably okay.

  He took the call out on the back patio. It was May, the second eldest of his three sisters.

  “I need you to talk to Father about the bodyguard,” she said in Cantonese, her dialect of choice when she was upset. “I’m sick and tired of it. You don’t have one all the time.”

  May was a sharp woman, so the response to such a statement should have been obvious to her.

  “The fact that I don’t always have Bataar with me has no persuasion value,” he stated. “Remember, Father tried to stick a bodyguard on me, too.”

  Ben had ditched his bodyguard enough times that his father had finally stopped keeping track. Ben liked Bataar, though, and kept the man on payroll. May had done her fair share of eluding her bodyguard, but their father wasn’t going to give up as easily for a daughter, especially after the recent high-profile kidnappings that included a young fashion heiress.

  “And I’m six-two, a hundred and ninety pounds with advanced training in kung fu,” he added.

  “The bodyguard makes Little Red nervous,” she said of her girlfriend. “She can’t be herself. She wouldn’t stay the night at my place.”

  “You’re trying to convince the wrong person. First of all, if Red wants to be with you bad enough, she’ll find a way to deal with it. Secondly, I would pay for your bodyguard if Father didn’t.”

  “Some help you are! I don’t know why I even bothered to call you.”

  Ben knew she had called because he was the closest ally she had. Growing up, she and Ben would sometimes team up against their older sister, Phyllis, who was in line to be the company’s CFO and prone to lecturing them on how they should behave. As kids, if Ben was confined to his room as punishment, May would sneak him comics under the door. And May butted heads with their father almost as often as Ben had before he’d turned things around.

  “I’ll talk to your bodyguard,” he offered. “Maybe there are some things he can do differently so you won’t feel his presence so much.”

  “I guess that’s better than nothing,” she huffed.

  Her partial mollification indicated to Ben that this wasn’t the last he was going to hear about the bodyguard. Glancing into the cabin through the patio doors, Ben saw that Jake was no longer at the dining table.

  “May, I’ve got to go.”

  “Talk to the bo
dyguard soon. Now would be good.”

  “I’ll call in the morning—evening for you.”

  “Why can’t you do it now?”

  “I have to check on something.”

  “On what?”

  He wasn’t about to explain to his younger sister that he needed to check on a woman he had bought for two hundred thousand US dollars.

  “Nothing of concern to you,” he replied.

  She sniffed out part of the truth anyway. “Hmm, like a woman?”

  “Goodbye, May.”

  “Is she someone you’re just banging—”

  But he had hung up and walked back inside. Jake was at the bar, making himself a vodka tonic. Ben glanced over at where the women sat around the coffee table.

  Kimani was cleaning spaghetti off herself. It looked like the whole pasta bowl had landed on her lap. Her legs were covered in sauce.

  “Master, may I get some towels for her?” Claire, a young and slender blond, asked Jake.

  “Sure, because you’ve been a good little slut today,” Jake replied, “and I’m such a nice guy.”

  Kimani gave him a hard look. Ben wondered if Jake had anything to do with the spilled spaghetti.

  “You can use the bathroom in my room to wash up,” Ben told her.

  “Maybe one of the other sluts can lick her clean.”

  It wasn’t the worst idea Jake had, but Ben wasn’t in the mood for food play. He looked at Kimani. “Go on.”

  Claire came back with paper towels, and she and Lisa helped clean the mess on the table so that Kimani could go wash up. Even pasta sauce looked good on her. Ben thought about following Kimani upstairs to clean her himself. Instead, he went over to Jake.

  “How did spaghetti end up all over my sub?” Ben asked.

  “Want one?” Jake replied after taking a swig of his drink.

  “No.” Ben didn’t drink much and had even less desire than usual in present company.

  “Her bowl was right on the edge of the table. I accidentally bumped it when I walked by.” Jake turned to Claire. “Isn’t that right, slut?”

  Claire nodded her head vigorously.