Traded To Mr Dawson Cage

Six

"No... Please—don't do this!" I cried.

It was as if I was desperately begging a cold wall to let me go.

Dawson didn't even look at my face or budge for once.

Just once.

My lips trembled as I begged but he parted my legs with his knees like I wasn't even struggling or protesting to begin with.

He was too strong for me or maybe I was just too weak.

But when he did look at my face for a moment, my breath hitched with my tears.

For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me—however rough but I just thought he would but instead, he clenched his jaw before he reached for my mother's dress and tore it off of me.

I had no bra on, so my breasts were bare for him to gawk on.

"Noooo!!!" I screamed and protested with the remaining strength I had left but that too, didn't get me anywhere.

That dress was one of my mother's favorites.

Now, I was rid of the slightest of comfort my mind had left to savor the memories of her.

"So full and f*****g attractive—" he said as his fingers traced the delicate lines of my n*****s.

A strange thrill rippled through me but I shook my head violently.

I couldn't let him have his way with me, so I continued kicking the sheets when I watched him unbuckle his belt.

"No... Please Dawson, don't do this." My voice broke further.

The chains rattled as they bit down hard into my wrists.

I winced.

"Stay still." He growled and the sound of his voice made my legs weak and wobbly.

I clasped my eyes shut and thought about my mother's face as he tugged at my underwear and succeeded in getting rid of it.

I clasped my eyes shut harder when I felt him bury his face between my thighs.

I let out a shaky whimper as he sucked on the dampness of my core.

"You're so f*****g wet!" He muttered under his breath as I opened my eyes and saw the darkness in his eyes.

Then he spun me around just so I would be on all fours before he clutched a handful of my hair.

Immediately, his first thrust got rid of the oxygen in my lungs and soon, he increased his pace pounding violently inside of me.

I cried and cried for my mother.

Dawson didn't even moan in satisfaction, he only grunted and it made me wonder for a tiny moment if f*****g me will ever be enough for him.

He grabbed my breasts with his other hand and continued pounding.

He'd slap my butt occasionally and sometimes, he'd bite into the skin of my neck subtly like he was marking me for his use.

He spun me again with my back to the bed and continued his thrusts with his expressionless eyes on me.

Tears slipped uncontrollably from my eyes, dripped partly into my ears before they sipped into the pillow.

I had to close my eyes because I didn't want to hold his gaze. But I still wondered if at least he derived any pleasure in f*****g me.

What kind of man on earth doesn't even show even the slightest bit of emotion while having s*x?

Dawson Cage.

I winced as he used the chains to prop me against him as he pounded mercilessly into me. He sucked on my full breasts so hard that it made me whimper in pain.

But he didn’t care if I was in pain or not and he still didn't attempt to kiss me.

His nails dug into my flesh as he f****d and messed me up for two f*****g hours before he came all over me.

When he got off of me, I felt like a vegetable.

I was extremely sore from the pain of being f****d with a bigger c**k—bigger than Wilson's.

I felt like I was stripped off what was left of my pride and dignity as Gwen Drake.

So, this was the kind of man my so-called stepsister sold me off to.

Tears blurred my vision when I saw the blood stains on my wrists.

A monster.

My lips trembled.

"You're a cold heartless monster!" I cursed at him but he didn't look at me and I was left to wonder if at all he heard me.

He buckled his belt and my gaze traced the thin lines of sweat that slid down his back.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, now afraid that if I breathed too much, he'd f**k the s**t out of me again.

So I just curled my naked self on the bed. The sheets were too far off and there was no way I could get them to cover me up.

I hate him.

I hate Dawson Cage.

My body trembled from the sudden chill that struck my pores.

God—

What did I ever do so wrong?

I lay there shaking.

I hated the way he looked so calm while my entire world had collapsed.

Without warning, he reached for my left hand and slid a ring onto my finger.

The diamond caught the light before horror crawled slowly into my chest.

“No…” I whispered.

Dawson had a frown on his face.

“You are not permitted to leave this room under any circumstance until after the wedding.” He said with a bored tone.

The wedding?

“If you need anything,” he continued calmly, “it will be brought to you.”

I looked up at him in disbelief and tried to speak.

“You can’t be serious.” I mumbled but he didn't bother with a response.

“You think you can just trap me here?” My voice cracked. “You think putting a ring on my finger changes anything?”

His expression didn’t even shift in the slightest.

“You are already mine,” he said flatly.

His words hit like ice against my skin. It made my stomach twisted violently.

“I’m not yours!” I snapped immediately.

That was when his gaze darkened. But before he could respond, the bedroom door opened and a woman stepped inside quietly.

She looked older than me, maybe late twenties or early thirties. She wore plain dark clothes with her hair tied neatly at the back of her head. She looked tired, almost lifeless.

Dawson glanced toward her.

“This is Dune,” he said. “Your personal maid.”

The woman lowered her head slightly toward me in a silent bow.

A personal maid?

I tried to move my body and curl further into myself when Dawson spoke again.

“Clean her up,” Dawson instructed coldly.

Then without another word, he walked out as the door shut behind him.

Something pierced my chest at the clear absence of him.

That f*****g asshole didn't even care to wipe his ridiculous c*m from off of me.

I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them and saw Dune beside me.

I blinked in surprise as she reached into her apron quickly and pulled out a small key.

“What are you—?”

Click.

The chain around my wrist unlocked.

I froze.

My hands dropped instantly, sore, red and trembling.

I stared at her in shock.

“You…” My voice cracked. “You released me?”

She nodded slightly.

The sudden freedom almost made me dizzy and even more annoyed.

I looked up at her quickly.

“Please,” I said immediately. “You have to help me. I need to leave this godforsaken place! My mother—”

The remaining words died in my throat as the realization of my mother's death slammed into me all over again.

I pressed my hand against my mouth shakily as Dune watched me quietly.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to continue.

“Can you help me escape?” I asked desperately and blinked back my tears. “Please, I can’t stay here. He’s insane and I can't marry him.”

Dune didn’t answer, she just stared at me.

I frowned slightly. “Did you hear me?”

Still no response from her. Then confusion flickered through me.

I watched as she reached into her apron again, expecting her to probably pull out another key. But instead, she pulled out a tiny notepad and a pen.

I furrowed my brows as she scribbled something down quickly before holding it toward me.

Wait—

My eyes moved across the messy handwriting.

'Do not scream.'

I frowned at her words. “What?”

She pointed at the notebook again, then at herself before she scribbled again and showed it to me.

'I cannot speak.'

My breath hitched in my throat in total horror.

What the f**k is going on?

And how the hell did I get here?

Did Dawson take away her inability to speak just like he took away my freedom?

My stomach twisted painfully at the thought of another trapped person.

Another broken person inside this monster's house.

Frustration exploded inside me so suddenly I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

I looked toward the door furiously.

“DAWSON!” I screamed.

My voice echoed violently through the room.

“I HATE YOU!”