Rocked

  Rocked

  By

  Stella Andrews

  Copyrighted Material

  Copyright Stella Andrews 2017

  Stella Andrews has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the Author of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction and except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

  This book is for Adults only. If you are easily shocked and not a fan of sexual content then move away now.

  18+

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Note from author

  The Highest Bidder

  Coming next

  Have you read The Highest Bidder?

  Learn More

  Chapter One

  “Morning Amelia.”

  I wave my hand but carry on running, there is no time to waste. As I look at my watch, my stomach tightens with anxiety. Silently, I start the countdown.

  Ten minutes.

  The sweat flows down my back and my running vest is soaked with perspiration. I don’t let up though; I can’t afford to be late.

  My heart is racing and my blood pumping mercilessly around my exhausted body.

  As I reach Martha Hibbert’s white picket fence I check the time.

  Nine minutes.

  I try to clear my mind and concentrate on the job in hand. It proves impossible though. My whole body is wired and on full alert. I can think of nothing else but the fact I may be late. I can’t allow that to happen; it wouldn’t end well.

  Picking up my pace I see the grocery store in the distance which marks the finish line ahead of me.

  My legs are starting to ache and my toes are beginning to hurt. I just pray that the cramp keeps away; I have no time to be delayed by my body.

  Fighting to control my breathing I focus on the finishing post. Just past the grocery store and towards the end of a pretty suburban street.

  I hear somebody shout my name and pretend not to hear. I have no time for distractions.

  Seven minutes.

  As I run past the grocery store a little dog wags its tail and looks at me with the eyes of the innocent. Briefly, I smile and my heart melts. A truck rolls past and honks its horn, and the driver calls out.

  “Hey sexy, what ya doin later?”

  Once again, I pretend not to hear and up my pace.

  As I turn the corner to my street, I glance down.

  Six minutes.

  I can see the finishing post in sight. The white gate of home. My home. It looks so welcoming and yet I want nothing more than to keep on running. Past the familiar and into a world where I am just a face in the crowd. I crave obscurity and the shadows. I crave freedom.

  Five minutes.

  Gasping for air, I reach the gate and my heart rate increases. I’m home!

  As I crash through the front door, I focus on the task at hand. There is no time to stop for a much-needed drink. Kicking off my running shoes I start removing my clothes as I climb the stairs two at a time.

  I rip the clothes from my body with no care, leaving them in my wake as I head towards the shower.

  Three minutes.

  Once I’m naked, I loosen my hair and let it fall around my shoulders. My heart is still thumping but my breathing is starting to slow. The steam from the shower fills the room and I glance at the time.

  Two minutes.

  Finally, I stand under the hot cleansing jets of water and place my hands on the tiles as I let it pour over me. For the first time, I am still and it feels liberating.

  My eyes move to the mirror above the sink and I see the door handle turn. My relief is short-lived.

  It’s time.

  I feel him approaching, silently, predatory, purposefully.

  Ignoring him I carry on soaping my exhaustion away. I use the soap and rub it into my body, slowly and suggestively. The only sound is of the running water and the steam has created a cloud obscuring my view.

  Then I am pushed hard against the shower screen and he pushes his leg in between mine and parts them. His hands run down my body and between my legs. I feel his fingers enter my core as he pins me to the screen, my breasts leaving their impression as he continues his explorations. He grips my hands with one strong hand and pulls them above my head. He feels hard against my back and he says in a low voice. “Are you ready for me, Amelia?”

  I whimper, “Yes.”

  He enters me from behind and fills me completely. I am pinned to the screen and can’t move with him impaled inside my body. He is not gentle, and it is brutal. He pushes inside me relentlessly. Pounding into me and claiming my body as his. The only sound is of our breathing and the thump of my body against the screen. The water pours off us both and I hate myself for the excitement mounting in my core.

  He kicks me wider and thrusts in deeper. I cry out and he whispers, “You like that, don’t you little slave?”

  I nod and he thrusts in harder. I feel the bite of his hands on my wrists and feel the pain of his attack. Once again, my body betrays me as I feel the release coming. Then with one more thrust, we both fall over the edge together.

  As I come down from the natural high, like any addict I want more and hate myself for it.

  Then he gives me what I crave - more.

  Almost immediately, I am pulled from the shower and dragged to my room.

  Kicking the door open, he pushes me roughly inside and grins. “On your knees.”

  Sinking to the floor I do as he says. He stands above me and I feel the power of the man. It surrounds him like a force field. He owns me mind, body, and soul and he knows it.

  Standing before me he grabs my hair and yanks my face up to stare at his. I see the power flashing from his eyes as he looks at me and smiles in a sinister way.

  “Take me, little slave.”

  I open my mouth and he pushes in roughly. He holds my head in place and punishes me the same way as before. Then he pulls back suddenly and steps away. I watch in confusion as he crosses the room and reaches for his clothes. He proceeds to dress, slowly and carefully, watching me the whole time. He smirks as he sees the disappointment in my eyes.

  Then he comes over and pulls me up to face him. My
naked body shivers under the icy glare in his eyes. He grabs my wrist and squeezes it hard, saying in a low voice.

  “Until later, slave. I’ve got something very special lined up for us tonight. You have the day to wonder what it is.”

  He tips my chin towards him and his touch is uncharacteristically gentle.

  “Now don’t be late for work. You know what happens to naughty girls, don’t you?”

  I nod and he pushes me away. Then he leaves as quickly as he came; leaving me to gather what’s left of my dignity and self-esteem as I quickly get ready for work.

  ***

  Chapter Two.

  “Morning Amelia.”

  Once again, I wave and smile at the security guard as I enter the place I call home for most of the day. My heels click on the polished marble floor as I make my way to my office. A few people call out ‘hello’ and I just smile and nod.

  Washington. The capital of power and guardian of secrets. Nothing is what it seems, and the place is shrouded in cloaks and mirrors. All around me the country is controlled. Not just this country either—the world.

  The men and women within these walls hold the greatest power in the land. Lives are made or ruined as a result of just one signature from a person with much to gain and even more to lose. It’s all a game and one that you can’t afford to lose.

  These people leave their conscience at the door right next to their scruples. This place is not for the faint-hearted and it’s like an addictive drug to everyone within its sinful walls. It runs on money and power and is fuelled by greed.

  Stepping inside the elevator I press the button for the top floor. I am not alone. All around me are my co-workers. People like me who strive to make it to the top by any means possible. Trust no one and be everybody’s friend. These are the unwritten rules that you break at your peril.

  The elevator reaches the top floor and I leave along with the rest of them. One by one we disappear into our little boxes that make up the fabric of this immense building. The White House.

  I reach my office, or I should say, the office belonging to my boss, Senator Scott Parker. He is one of the most powerful men in the land that makes up the closest band of brothers to the President himself. He is invaluable to the Commander-in-Chief and that means we are extremely busy. I am his assistant, PA, call it what you like, he’s a demanding boss and there’s no room for complacency in our relationship.

  One of the other assistants smiles and laughs softly.

  “You’re a little late today, Amelia. Did you oversleep?”

  I shake my head and laugh.

  “Something like that, Didi?”

  I gesture towards the large oak door in front of me.

  “Is he in yet?”

  Didi frowns.

  “I’m afraid so, Amelia. There’s no hiding today.”

  My heart sinks. Now I’m late and it won’t go down well at all. Didi sees the anxiety in my eyes and looks at me with sympathy.

  “It may not be that bad. He has a lot on his mind, what with his wedding and all. Just hold onto the thought that in two days’ time we will be free—for two weeks at least.”

  I smile but my heart feels empty. Two days that can’t come quickly enough for me.

  I smile at Didi with a confidence that deserted me long ago. Grabbing the Michelson file, I head towards the door in front of me, trying to quell the nervous butterflies that appear to be consuming my body. With a deep breath, I plaster my business face on and knock loudly. I hear a gruff, “Come in.” So, I push the door open and walk briskly into the room.

  All around me is wealth and privilege. Wood paneling hugs the walls and the deep plush carpet sinks beneath my feet. The smell is one hundred percent masculine and oozes power. I walk purposefully towards the man who I love to hate. The man who I answer to and controls me like a puppet on a string.

  Senator Scott Parker. The son of Emerson Parker, one of Washington’s finest Senators and part of the inner sanctum of the Washington elite. Scott, his son was always destined for greatness—after all, it’s in his genes. His rise was fast and now he sits on the right-hand side of the President himself. He is largely tipped to hold the great office himself one day and I don’t doubt for a second that he will. In two days’ time, he will marry Shelby Barrington, daughter of the Barrington’s of Washington. Another hugely powerful Washington dynasty, merging the two together and creating one super couple.

  He doesn’t look up and I shift nervously on my feet. His head is bent as he looks at a letter on his desk. Scott Parker is one good looking son of a bitch and he knows it. His sandy colored hair is neatly styled and his chiseled jaw offsets classic good looks. He is a hard man who has been ruthless in the pursuit of his dream. He is Washington’s darling and the subject of many a woman’s fantasies. Like everything in his life his working career has been cushioned with privilege and rather than clawing his way to the top, he was born there.

  He looks up suddenly and I almost catch my breath as I see the ice blazing from his incredible blue eyes. His manner is cold and I see the irritation on his face as he looks at me with disapproval.

  I can feel myself squirming and will myself to maintain a calm head and face him with indifference.

  He leans back in his seat and just looks at me for what seems like an eternity before saying harshly.

  “You’re late, Amelia.”

  I feel my stomach flip and answer coolly.

  “I’m sorry, sir. The train was delayed.”

  Shaking his head, he says in a low voice.

  “You know I don’t tolerate lateness.”

  I swallow—hard.

  “I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll work through my lunch hour to make up for it.”

  He stares at me and I see the excitement flicker in his eyes as he says in a low, threatening, voice.

  “You know what happens to naughty girls who are late.”

  I nod and he grins.

  “I told you not to be late and now you will suffer the consequences - Amelia.”

  My name drips from his tongue like honey on a viper. I shift awkwardly, hating the excitement that is raging through my body as he undresses me with his eyes.

  The spell is broken as the phone rings and he grabs it whilst holding my gaze.

  “Yes?”

  He listens and then says gruffly.

  “Fine, I’ll keep the line free.”

  As he replaces the receiver he beckons me over.

  “I’m expecting a call from the President. You need to be punished for your lateness but I don’t have time now.”

  He nods towards the phone and beckons me over.

  “Come here and finish what you started.”

  I nod and swallow hard. He watches as I advance and drop the file on his desk. Licking my lips nervously I sink to the floor on my knees before him. He places his hand on the top of my head and my body melts at the contact.

  As the phone rings, I move my hand to his zipper and free the beast straining to get out.

  As Scott Parker takes the call from the President, I take him in my mouth. With one hand on my head, he speaks into the phone, thrusting his dick inside. I suck him and tease him and marvel at how he can keep a steady voice whilst he talks to the man with the most power in the world. As he speaks I go to work, just how he likes it. On my knees and subservient to my master.

  This man is controlling, hard and ruthless. He owns me, mind, body and soul and is a hard master. In two days’ time, he will marry another but I won’t be off the hook as a result. I will still expect the morning call and the demands during the day. I will still be required to follow him around the world as his PA and perform whatever duty he desires. He will continue to send me over the edge with ecstasy and control my heart and mind. He will still own every part of me and keep me imprisoned in my own wanton desire. I need this man face fucking me so vigorously because without him I am nothing. My body betrays me at every opportunity and my head hates every moment of it. I am at war with mysel
f and can’t see a way out of my own private hell.

  In two days’ time, however. I will escape.

  ***

  Chapter Three

  The morning passes as it usually does, running around after my Master. To everyone else, we are just colleagues. I’m his assistant and he is the powerful Senator. In private he is my world. My sad, lonely, desperate, addictive world. The man who controls me and who I can’t live without. The man my body craves like oxygen and my head can’t stand. My heart breaks every time he looks away and bursts into life with just one touch from his hand. When he smiles, it lights up my soul and when he frowns it causes desire to flood my body. My mind is fucked, just as much as my body by the man who is never far from my side. That is for two more days, anyway.

  I look up as Didi groans.

  “What’s up?”

  She pulls a face.

  “I’ve just heard that Shelby Barrington is on her way up. I think I’ll pretend to do some photocopying until the coast is clear. That woman makes me feel like dirt on her shoe.”

  My heart sinks as I think of the future Mrs Senator Parker. I’d hoped to never see her again, no such luck.

  Didi rushes off with a stack of papers on her fool’s errand whilst I prepare myself.

  I decide not to warn Scott. Maybe he will forget I’m here and concentrate on Shelby. If I warn him, he will be prepared.

  It’s not long before the force that is Shelby Barrington strides into the office. She is absolutely stunning in the way that money can buy. She has blonde hair, slightly darker than my own, but styled way more professionally. Her outfit of a white trouser suit must have cost more than my six-month salary. Her make up is immaculate and the result of hours of work, unlike the few minutes I get to smear some gloss on my lips and mascara on my lashes. Her perfume is exotic and fills my senses, stifling me and making it hard to breathe. She looks down at me with her cold, green eyes and barely raises a smile.