Claiming Aubrey: The Soldier's Revenge (3 page)

“Is that so, Aubrey?” An unreadable
expression crossed over Mr. Clark’s face. His gaze dropped down,
sweeping over me. When it reached my panties, all the shame in my
body rushed down between my thighs, simmering hotly in my core. I
fought the urge to reach down and cover myself.

Mr. Clark stared at the valley between my
thighs for what seemed like forever. I felt lightheaded when I
remembered that my wetness had soaked through the white material,
so he definitely had visual evidence of my arousal.

“Have you ever slid your fingers inside your
pussy, Aubrey? Not just today, but any time before?” he asked, not
lifting his eyes from where they were, his penetrating gaze on my
panties feeling like a violation.

I shook my head no, my ears burning more and
more each time Mr. Clark said a nasty word. Then again,
pussy
was the same nasty word I’d said myself, the same
nasty word that had turned me on when I heard the two people in the
movie say it.

“Have you ever stuck anything else inside
you, something that wasn’t your fingers?” When I shook my head
again, he followed up with a more shocking question. “Has anyone
ever been inside your pussy, Aubrey?”

“No, Mr. Clark!” I exclaimed, surprised.

“You’ve never had a man inside you?” Mr.
Clark scooted closer to me on the bed.

I shook my head furiously, feeling a fresh
wave of tears coming on. “God wants me to save myself for marriage,
so that’s what I’m going to do.”

“God doesn’t want you to watch lewd movies
either, but you didn’t care about that, did you Aubrey?” he asked
in a biting tone.

“I’m a virgin, Mr. Clark.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Aubrey. What
would your daddy think? After all, neither he nor I would have
guessed that you were the type of girl who would watch dirty
movies, but it turns out that not only do you watch them, but you
like them, too? Right?”

I thought of speaking up for myself to say
that today was the first time I’d ever even seen something like
Forbidden Desire
, but I figured that wasn’t a good idea.

“You’re right,” I said quietly, hardly able
to look him in the eyes.

“Of course, I’m the only one who knows the
truth about you. Your daddy still thinks you’re his sweet angel.
His innocent daughter. How hurt is he going to be when he finds out
the truth about his little girl?”

A strangled sob escaped from my throat, tears
blurring my vision. “Daddy will be- will be very hurt.”

Mr. Clark was quiet for a long moment,
examining me as I cried. Finally, he spoke again, his voice a bit
kinder this time, but I could still detect a dangerous edge to it.
“Maybe we could keep this between you and me.”

I lifted my head, blinking at him through wet
lashes, my heart leaping with hope.

“We don’t have to bother your daddy with this
information. I wouldn’t want him to worry about his little girl
unnecessarily.
If
it’s unnecessary. After all, maybe you
really are a dirty little slut who has let a man slide his cock
inside your tight little hole. If that’s the case, your daddy
should probably know. I wouldn’t want to keep that from him. But if
you are innocent…”

“Mr. Clark, I am innocent, I swear! Please
trust me. I promise you I’m a virgin,” I insisted.

“Your promises don’t hold much weight with me
anymore, Aubrey. I hired you because I thought you were a good
girl, and I turned out to be woefully mistaken about that. I pay
you to watch my son, but instead you watch filth.”

“Please don’t tell my daddy!” I begged
desperately.

“I won’t… if it turns out you’re telling the
truth.”

“I am,” I cried, not knowing how to prove my
trustworthiness to the unsmiling man before me.

“You’ve shown yourself to be a lying whore,”
he said in a somber voice. “I can’t just take your word for it. I’m
afraid I’m going to have to check for myself.”

Mr. Clark climbed over me in bed. I shrank
back slowly, unsure of what his words had meant and why he was
hovering over me. His intentions became clearer when he reached out
and groped my breast through my shirt, just like the man in the
movie did to the girl.

“Mr. Clark!” I shrieked, trying to ignore the
tremor of pleasure I felt as he kneaded my breast.

He paid me no mind, leaning into me and
covering my slight body with his large one, his face mere inches
from mine. He propped himself up on one elbow as his hand slipped
off my breasts and trailed down my body. Mr. Clark didn’t even say
anything. The only sound that came from him was his heavy breathing
as he touched me.

Adrenaline coursed through me as I wriggled
in an attempt to get away from his hand and the confusing
sensations it was causing. When that failed, I tried with all my
might to push him off me. Mr. Clark didn’t budge even a centimeter,
which was a reminder of his days as a football player. I was no
match for the strength of the man on top of me. He could easily do
whatever he wanted to me, and right then, it was distressingly
apparent that some part of me wanted him to.

When Mr. Clark’s hand reached my panties he
leaned back, kneeling before me as he roughly stroked my lips
through the material, feeling the dampness with his fingers. His
touch scorched me even through the fabric.

“Please, Mr. Clark!” I squealed.

“Please? Okay, since you asked like a good
girl, I’ll give you what you want.”

His next move was to slip his hand into the
side of my panties, making contact with my bare skin, sending a
pulsing tremor rushing through me like wildfire. Maybe I should
have tried to get away again, but I didn’t move. And it wasn’t just
I was stunned into stillness by his shocking touch, or because I
knew he would easily catch me and throw me back down, or both.

The reason I didn’t move was sinfully
apparent as I lay there, my entire body quaking as Mr. Clark rubbed
my slick folds, spreading my wetness around and making a mess with
my sticky juices, brushing over my clit. It felt better than it had
when I was touching myself while watching the dirty movie, and for
a moment, I was transfixed by the feeling. But I was reminded of
how great my sin was when Mr. Clark slid a single finger inside my
pussy, shocking me out of my lustful daze.

“I can’t, Mr. Clark!” I exclaimed, scrambling
away from him. Mr. Clark grabbed my thighs, digging his fingers
into me as he pulled me back in front of him. When he let go, I
could see the red marks his fingers left behind on my skin. His
eyes met mine, and he flashed me a silent warning that let me know
without question that defiance would bring far more punishment than
obedience.

That wasn’t a warning I intended on heeding,
though, because all I wanted was to get away from Mr. Clark’s
strong, unforgiving grasp and the way it made me feel things I knew
weren’t right. He leaned into me, reaching behind me to grab my
shirt. As he started to tug it up, I yanked it down, stubbornly
believing I could outdo his strength.

“You either let me remove your shirt or I’ll
rip it right off you.” Mr. Clark’s rough words sent an icy thrill
through me. “How are you going to leave my house without a shirt,
Aubrey? Or even worse, you’ll have to wear one of my shirts. What’s
your daddy going to say when you show up at home this evening in a
man’s shirt, with yours nowhere to be seen?”

The reminder of Daddy finding out made me
still my movements, limply dropping my hands to my lap. Mr. Clark
pulled my shirt up and over my head, tossing it to the floor.
Before I even realized what he was doing, Mr. Clark had reached
behind me and unhooked my bra, sliding it off my shoulders and
baring my breasts.

My nipples puckered without anything covering
them, feeling tight as they stiffened. A hot surge of shame tore
through me as I sat there with my breasts exposed for Mr. Clark to
see. My first instinct was to cover myself with my hands, but Mr.
Clark lowered his head, capturing one of my pink nipples in his
mouth as he took the other one in his large palm.

A jolt of electricity shot straight down to
my pussy, alarming me, as he swirled his tongue over my sensitive
nipple. I knew I shouldn’t like what he was doing, and yet I was
powerless to control my body’s shameful response to his scandalous
actions.

Mr. Clark switched his attention to my other
breast, sucking my nipple into his mouth. He grasped my pebbled
peak with his teeth, biting down at the same time he pinched my
other nipple between his fingers. I cried out at the sudden,
shocking pain.

He pulled away, pushing my breasts together
and giving them a rough squeeze before dropping his hands down to
my panties. He gave the delicate material a sharp tug, and even
though I knew I was inviting harsher treatment by fighting back, my
hands flew down to keep my panties in place. I cupped my mound with
my hands, holding the panties against me.

“They’re coming off one way or another,
Aubrey,” Mr. Clark said, fire glinting in his eyes. “So how are we
going to do this?”

I gripped myself tighter, shaking my head as
fear pulsed through me. “This isn’t right, Mr. Clark.”

“Okay, I see you’ve chosen the hard way.
Good. That’s how I like it.” He flashed a wolfish grin, grabbing
both my wrists in one hand and yanking them away. Then he seized my
panties with his fists, tugging them down and off my legs,
carelessly tossing them off the bed.

I was now completely naked, every item of
clothing I’d been wearing strewn randomly across the floor, as Mr.
Clark sat in front of me, still fully dressed in his work clothes.
I desperately threw one arm over my breasts and covered my mound
with my other hand. Mr. Clark knocked that hand to the side with
his own, this time forcing two of his thick fingers into the
slippery tightness between my thighs.

He pumped in and out of my virgin hole,
curling his fingers upward as he roughly stroked my walls, a
strained expression playing across his face. “This is what you
wanted, right?”

“Oh, Mr. Clark,” I whispered, writhing under
his harsh touch.

“Oh yeah, you’re a virgin, baby,” he
breathed, looking down at my pussy as he fingered me. “Your little
cunt is as tight as a fist around my fingers. You may be a little
slut, but you haven’t had a man inside you. Yet.”

“I’m not a slut, Mr. Clark,” I whimpered.

“Your pussy is only getting wetter as I play
with it, Aubrey, so you can’t lie and say you don’t like being
treated like the slut that you are.”

“I
don’t
like it,” I said, trying to
sound forceful even though the way he was stroking me made me feel
breathless.

“Just admit it.” His tone was taunting.
“Aubrey Hall is a little whore who pretends to be innocent, but
what she really wants is to be fucked.”

“That’s not true!”

Mr. Clark didn’t respond. Instead, he
withdrew from my pussy, wiping the wetness that covered his fingers
on my thigh. I looked down, seeing the glistening trail that was
left behind. He lowered his head down between my legs, a sloppy,
wet open-mouthed kiss landing on my clit before I even had time to
think.

I inhaled sharply, feeling like all the wind
had been sucked out of me. My body betrayed me once more by
responding eagerly to the warm wetness of Mr. Clark’s tongue on my
most sensitive place.

As he sucked my tender nub of flesh into his
mouth, I realized why the man in the movie had reacted so wildly
when the girl closed her mouth around his cock. The feeling of Mr.
Clark’s tongue dancing over my clit as he held onto my thighs was
an overpowering, all-consuming sensation that couldn’t be described
with words.

I tried to fight the feeling, tried to push
it away, reminding myself that if I let lust override my mind’s
logic, I was no better than the slut Mr. Clark accused me of being.
But there was no reasoning with my body’s desires, and I
involuntarily arched my back, pushing my mound closer against Mr.
Clark’s eager tongue.

An overwhelming feeling was building up
inside my body. A warm buzzing sensation spread through me,
tingling hotly from my chest down to the tips of my toes. My
breathing became irregular and I felt lightheaded, like the room
was going blurry around me. The tension continued to grow inside
me, powering ahead full force, wicked pressure dancing low in my
belly.

I had never felt that way before, never knew
I could feel that way. I could hardly take it anymore, feeling like
I would explode if Mr. Clark didn’t stop licking me. I needed that
intense, delicious feeling to go away before it wrecked me beyond
repair.

And then I erupted, my entire body shaking
with the force of what was happening to me. Hot torrents of
pleasure crashed through me and I clutched the comforter in my
hands, my face twisting as sweet agony took control of me. The room
spun around me and I closed my eyes, my pussy quivering wildly,
every sensation in my body centered there, starting in my core and
then radiating out through the rest of me.

As the intensity of the strange possession
that took over me lessened, I opened my eyes, feeling weak as I
looked down at the man between my legs.

“If you didn’t like it, why’d you just come?”
Mr. Clark said, giving me a name for what had just happened to
me.

I came.
I came, but that was a choice
made for me by my body, not my mind. There was no way I could have
stopped what just happened. Or at least that’s what I tried to
convince myself, even though I knew another sin had just been added
to my ever-growing lists of moral transgressions. Because maybe, if
I had been a good girl like I thought I was, I would have relied on
prayer to guide me through Mr. Clark’s open-mouthed kisses down
below, resisting those strong, hedonistic sensations that coursed
through me by thinking of God instead.