Chapter 13 #2
How many times had he reminded her that she was lucky to have him because, despite how damaged and dirty she was, he didn't mind, that he was still happy to use her body?
Also, too many to count. Enough times that she believed it.
Yet …
Thunder didn't seem to mind her sitting on his penis.
His fingers swept gently down her arms, the motion soothing, the light touch keeping her grounded when her mind wanted to scurry away into its safe little place.
There was an almost tender expression on his face, and when she forced herself to meet his gaze, she would have sworn she saw affection there.
Genuine affection. Not faked.
But did she even know the difference anymore?
The truth was, after so many years locked up and tortured, she’d lost her ability to read people and emotions.
She’d thought that there was something real building between her and Thunder, but then what she’d heard changed everything, and now she wasn't so sure. Maya didn't want anything between her and anybody, and yet … she liked the feel of him inside her. It was soothing and comforting in a way nothing else could be. And she couldn’t imagine sitting on anyone else’s lap like this.
Not any of the other guys, and it wasn't because they already had partners, it was because with them it would be weird, sexual, and this just felt … right.
Sex.
Was it possible if she offered Thunder sex, he might not throw her away when he got what he wanted from her?
“I won't use your name again, babydoll,” Thunder murmured as his hands drifted toward her back and he began to trace the length of her spine.
He was so fixated on her name, and while she hated the sound of it coming from his lips or anybody else’s, it wasn't what she was most upset about.
It was knowing that she wasn't there because they cared about her one way or the other, it was just because they wanted something from her, and she was so tired of people only wanting something from her.
For once, it would be nice for someone to care only about what she wanted instead of what they wanted from her.
“It’s okay, babydoll, I've got you,” Thunder whispered, and he leaned in, hesitating for long enough that she was sure he was going to kiss her properly before shifting slightly and pressing a kiss to her forehead instead.
But he wanted to kiss her properly.
Maybe Thunder was just using her, pretending to be nice to her to get her on their side, but she was positive he was at least attracted to her.
Maya had no idea why. She was too skinny, too pale, there were scars on her body, and she could no longer speak out loud, but regardless of all of that, Thunder seemed to find something attractive in her.
After all, he was hard and buried inside her.
Would it be wrong to take advantage of that? Try to use it to her advantage?
Of course it would, yet desperate times called for desperate measures.
If she didn't do something, she would be thrown away. If she hadn't ripped up that small list of information she recalled about Dr. Gardner, and instead handed it over when Thunder caught her and brought her back to the mansion, then she’d already have been shipped out.
Her silence was the only thing saving her, but if this worked, she’d have a backup plan.
And it wasn't like she planned on staying forever anyway.
Even if this place felt safe, even if she loved how secluded it was, even if she liked being there.
All she needed was to buy herself some time to feel ready to face her family, because, realistically, she knew that was her only option, her plan to escape and figure things out on her own had been silly and unrealistic.
This could work.
Please let it work.
Maya wasn't ready to face her family, to be confronted with just how different she was from the girl they’d once known. Thunder and the others only knew this version of her, which made it all so much easier.
Rolling her hips, she was never more thankful than in this moment that she knew a lot about sex.
Well, she knew a lot about how to pleasure a man.
It was learn how to do that or suffer the consequences.
She knew a whole lot less about what it meant to be pleasured herself, but that didn't matter, she didn't even care about sex, it was just something she’d been forced to do thousands of times.
It had no meaning, no positive sentimental attachment, but it also no longer held anything negative either.
It was just a thing you did. Nothing more and nothing less.
Thunder’s eyes widened at her move, and when she did it again, his hands shifted to grab her hips, holding them still.
Okay, she had other things she could try.
One of her hands began to stroke her body where their two were joined together, and her other stroked him where they joined.
She’d make him come, show him that she would offer him any sexual favor he wished for in exchange for being allowed to stay.
She could offer up her body to this man, hand it over to him, and allow herself to belong to him.
After all, her body hadn't been her own in a long time now.
“Stop, babydoll,” Thunder ordered, although she felt him twitch inside her. “You don’t know what you're doing.”
Oh, she knew what she was doing. It wasn't that she particularly wanted to have sex with Thunder, and it wasn't why she’d taken his length inside her, but it also wasn't as repulsive an idea as sex with Master or any of her other owners had been.
“No, babydoll,” he said again, stronger this time, and his grip on her hips tightened enough that it would likely leave behind bruises.
“This is taking advantage of you. Offering you comfort that you need is one thing, taking pleasure that you don’t really want to give would be something else.
I won't be another person to use you. To hurt you.”
But he was using her, and in doing so, he would hurt her.
“I’m sorry if I did anything to give you the idea that you owed me sex.”
Sorry that he’d allowed her filthy, disgusting body to touch his was what he probably meant.
All that panic and terror and anger that had receded the moment she sank onto Thunder, now surged back with a force that stole her breath.
Of course, he wouldn't want to have sex with her. He knew enough about what happened to sex trafficking victims to know that she was forever ruined, had even seen firsthand how she was kept and how she’d been conditioned to present herself for her Master.
Only she didn't have a master anymore, and now her world was spinning out of control.
Scrambling off Thunder’s lap, she took off at a run out of her art studio. Maya didn't bother pulling her leggings and panties back on. The men who lived there had already seen her naked, and she had no pride in her body.
In fact, she hated it.
Wished it were possible to get a new one. One that wasn't dirty and damaged.
“Babydoll, wait,” Thunder called after her, but she didn't slow down.
Instead, she pushed on, ran faster, taking the corridors fast enough that she bumped into several walls on her way back to her room. She knew what she had to do, just like she knew it wouldn't be enough, but she had to try. Had to do something.
In her room, she rushed to the bathroom, flinging open the shower door and turning the water on as hot as it would go. Without waiting for it to heat up, she yanked the oversized sweater over her head, tossed it aside, and stepped in.
Grabbing a bottle of body wash, she uncapped it and proceeded to squeeze out all the soap inside over her body. Then she grabbed a brush and began to scrub.
So dirty.
So disgusting.
She had to get clean.
Had to scrub away the filth that marred her body and her soul, or it was going to destroy her.