Page 51 of Briar

My hair is a little wild – not especially more than usual. But my lips are slightly swollen. Carefully, I assess myself, my gaze running down my body.

There are marks on my breasts. Small, darkish marks – half a dozen at least, all close to my nipples. Even those feel swollen. As if—

A rush of heat floods my face. As if they sucked on them.

Forcing the air in, I continue down until I reach the area between my legs. The redness on my inner thighs stands out the most. Twisting my thigh, I lean in to see before looking down and running my fingers over the patches. They feel a little rough against my touch.

But it’s my – my pussy – that feels sore. I cup myself, hissing at the sensitivity.

Iamswollen. The flesh, normally a paler shade, is darker this morning. Puffier.

They left their marks on me.

Swallowing, I spread myself open and look.

There’s no glaring sign. No writing that shoutsBriar lost her virginity to three men last night.

But my body is letting me know.

I’m definitely not a virgin anymore.

But there’s no blood. No trace of it. So maybe… maybe they don’t know.

God, please don’t let them know.

When I turn, my eyes snag on the dresser in the corner on the other side of the room. On the laptop, perched on top.

I guess I’m going to find out exactly what happened last night.

It takes me an inordinate amount of time to work through the login screen, even with the neat note from River that lets me know the username and password. But then it’s easy to work my way to the right file, to click the button as I settle back on the bed, shifting to ease the pain down below.

There are hours of footage. I won’t be able to watch all of it, not unless I want to stay in here all day. I skip through the first few hours, where it’s only me.

The screen jumps as I press too far, and my mouth drops open. Sound blares from the screen, and I yank the lid down, slamming it closed and cutting the noise off with a panicked bleat.

Slowly, I open it again, only to be greeted with a new page, asking for the password.

Damn it.

But it kicks off directly where I left it. Mouth open, I take in Jenson’s body, the way it moves, and thrusts… intome.

And he’s talking, just like he promised.

I watch for a long time, the pain receding and replaced by something else as I shift in place. Jenson’s filthy words. And River –god.

My eyes are nearly out of my head. He holds me upright like I’m a feather, my body bouncing vigorously on top of his as he thrusts. And I can see his cock, see it pushing in and out of me. And he watches the camera, looking as if he knows I’m watching, his mouth curling up at the edges.

And his eyes – those dark brown, deep eyes – they look like they’re challenging me.

You can’t stop me. Look what I’m doing to you.

I slam my knees closed.No wonder I’m sore.

There’s something truly depraved about just sitting here in the daylight, watching them use me. Their mouths, their cocks. My breathing is unsteady, the soreness fading away underneath a wave of need.

For the first time, the acrid taste of bitterness floods my mouth.

I have no regrets about this. About giving myself to them. It’s clear from every moment I watch how much care they took with me, even as they left their marks on my body.