Page 55 of Under Rusted Stars

“Wait. Jett,” I say, but he moves me to my belly and pulls my hips up so my chest stays on the cot. I am about to panic, thinking he is about to shove into my ass, but he doesn’t. He pauses for a moment, and I realize that he is using Miguel’s assault to his advantage. I don’t even want to consider how repulsive it is that he is waiting for it, but when he pushes back into me, there is less resistance, and my body can relax a bit.

Jett reaches around my body and starts rubbing my clit as he forces himself deeper, and right away I realize that he is trying to cause me less pain. It only takes a moment for my body to respond, and he’s able to start rocking his hips.

“Fuck,” he growls when we hear the basement door open.

“If you stop, I’ll make you fuck her dead body instead,” Miguel says. “Rico, get over there and fuck her throat.”

A man grabs me by the hair and pulls me up to my hands before forcing his dick into my mouth. I gag violently as he starts to attack my throat, and Jett quickens his thrusts as he loses control of himself. The man down my throat grunts as he takes my mouth, and it’s a mind fuck of a combination. I am half moaning and half screaming as Jett violently fucks me, all while trying not to vomit as the man in my mouth starts to come.

“Swallow, bitch,” he growls, slapping me across the face. I try. I really do, but it’s fucking rancid. I start retching immediately, and another man manages to get a trash can in front of me as I start to vomit. The moment I stop, fire slices across my back when Miguel hits me as hard as he can with a thin metal rod. I scream and collapse onto my chest. He keeps hitting me over and over, and Jett falters, but then I get hit harder. The harder Jett fucks me, the less Miguel hits me.

By the time Miguel stops, I am sobbing, and Jett is fucking me so hard that it has me clawing at the cot as I scream in pain. Jett is growling and grunting, but his hands on my hips never tighten. He holds me as gently as he can, but doesn’t let me get away when I instinctively try to evade his thrusts. His fingers don’t dig into me, and it’s a reminder that he doesn’t want this any more than I do.

Chapter Eighteen

Olivia

Eighteen Hours Later

The basement smells like blood, sweat, and stale sex. My back is still on fire, my belly hurts, and my vagina feels like it’s been beaten half to death. I am hardly conscious, and Jett is so fucking out of it that I am surprised he is even awake. Barely, but he is. I am curled up next to him, and they have finally stopped drugging him, which means he has stopped fucking me. He keeps muttering apologies, and it’s heartbreaking.

I hear the basement door open, and I don’t flinch anymore. They are either here to drug him or sell me. I am trying to hold out hope that someone will find us, and it’s gotten hard the last few hours, but then I hear his voice.

“She has some nice titties from what I saw on the stream,” Rhett grunts.

“Real, too,” Miguel says. “Olivia, get up.”

I groan, but force myself to get up. When I see Rhett standing next to Miguel, it takes everything in me not to run to him. Instead, I drop my head and try not to smile.

Miguel is a smart man, but apparently not smart enough.

“She’s got a lot of scars,” Rhett says, scanning me.

“She’s got a bit of an attitude problem, but she’s clean and can really take a beating, if you know what I mean,” Miguel says, and Rhett lets out the fakest laugh. “You’re getting a discount for her weight and the scars. I could take a little more off for that mouth of hers”

“Eh. I like them mouthy,” Rhett says, circling me. He smacks my ass hard, and I yelp. “What kind of risk does she carry?”

“She has family, but she’s gone missing before,” he says. “Her last owner kept her isolated, but you could probably train her to be in public if you have a heavy enough hand.”

“Refund if I don’t wanna keep her?”

“Always,” he says. “If she is injured, you’ll only get half back. Dead, you get nothing.”

“I’ll take her,” Rhett says, grabbing my chin and lifting my face. “She’ll make a fine little toy.”

“Fuck her, and she’s yours,” Miguel says.

“Can we do it away from the dead guy? He’s a bit of a turn-off,” Rhett laughs.

“Yeah, grab her and come up. You can use a private room,” Miguel says, laughing with him.

Rhett grabs my arm and roughly pulls me up the stairs. I nearly trip a few times, but he doesn’t let me fall. When we get to the private room, Rhett pushes me down on my knees in front of the couch to lay me across the seat. This allows me to rest until I hear his zipper. He gently squeezes my hips, almost as if to warn me, and I relax. I am aware of what is happening, and it’s honestly brilliant. There is no way Bodhi can get anywhere near this place, but Rhett can. Obviously he would send the man he trusts the most.

Rhett spits in his palm before coating himself, and then slowly pushes into me. Fuck, what the fuck is up with these men having such giant dicks? He is just as big as Bodhi and Jett, stretching me far more than my body can handle. He doesn’t shove as deep or thrust as hard, only doing what he absolutely has to to get us out of here.

His movements are intentionally gentler, but my body reacts in a way I don’t expect. I cover my mouth as a moan slips out of me, and I am thankful in ways I cannot explain that I am getting this reprieve. As he moves, warmth rushes over my body, and I relax completely. The pain in my body dulls, and I just focus on Rhett.

When a weak orgasm ripples through me, my body tightens, and Rhett groans as he comes. He doesn’t hesitate to pull me up to stand, and Miguel laughs.