Bred By the MC Prez by Sam Crescent Page 0,2
her father despised her and his wife. They couldn’t have her mother running off and telling the media how he took advantage of her. So, they’d kept her at home during the whole pregnancy, only for her mother to die giving birth to her, and Peterson had seen it as a way of making millions of potential viewers loving him. He had designs for the big job and to do that, he had to be memorable. So he took in his nanny’s child, and Beth, she rarely went out. They wouldn’t allow her.
She was nothing more than a slave within the Peterson household until there was a need for her to smile at the camera and to pretend everything was okay. She hated pretending. Forcing a smile to her lips so people assumed she was happy.
Glancing around the room she’d been locked in, she felt sick to her stomach.
Her father hadn’t lied.
She was a virgin.
Untouched.
No one had ever given her the time of day.
She let out a sniffle, wiping beneath her nose. If she didn’t do exactly as her father wanted, he was going to kill her. She’d been told to distract Forge. To give him whatever he wanted.
Before being dragged into the car, she’d been forced to watch porn. Saw a woman deep throat a man, take him into her pussy and then her ass, before sucking on his cock again. They’d made her watch and told her what she had to do.
She closed her eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding the bathrobe closer to her. Back at the Peterson mansion, after her chores, she had her own little room down at the end of the yard. It wasn’t much. A small house. One bedroom, one kitchen, one bathroom. She loved it. Every single evening, she would leave and pretend like she was only going to a job. Not that she was a prisoner. One day, she hoped to be free. To be far away from the Petersons and to have a life where no one dictated to her what she had to do. She’d yet to achieve that but she had hoped. She always did.
There was no reason to even think about giving up.
Now though, locked in the MC Prez’s bedroom at his clubhouse, she felt even more afraid. He’d looked so angry as he took her. Riding on the back of his bike was one of the most difficult things she’d ever done.
Covering her face, she hoped her body stopped shaking soon. She had to keep telling herself it would all be fine. Her father threatened to have her killed multiple times a week. This was no different. He couldn’t hurt her here.
What if Forge and his men were meant to be the ones to finally kill her? To clean up his twenty-four-year-old mess.
The door to the bedroom opened and Forge, the man who now owned her, stepped inside. He held something in his hands but she couldn’t make it out. The light coming from the lamps didn’t cast enough glow to show every single corner of the room.
She lowered her hands and stared at him, feeling frozen to the spot.
“Did you offer to come here? Is this all an act?” He pointed at her body.
At first, she didn’t know if this was a trap. If she told him the truth, would he tell her father? Would he beat her? She’d been on the other end of a belt before. If there was one thing she knew, she didn’t like to be hurt, to be whipped. Even being slapped. She hated it all.
“Look, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not a monster,” he said. “I’ve brought you some clothes. I want to know the truth. Do you get off on this sort of thing?”
He held out two items of clothing. They looked like jeans and a shirt.
“You want me to wear clothes?” she asked. Her voice didn’t sound like hers.
“Yeah, I do. Does that surprise you?”
“I don’t know.”
“I figured you’d be hungry. I haven’t eaten for most of the day. We’ve got the grill fired up, and you’re welcome to join us.”
“I am?”
Forge laughed. “Exactly who are you?”
“I’m no one,” she said, answering quickly.
“Something tells me you’re way more than someone.”
She pressed her lips together, not wanting to give anything away.
“Fine. Your secrets are your own. I won’t pry just yet.” He shook the clothes. “Here, take them.”
She got off the bed, grabbing them.
Forge then surprised her as he turned, giving her some