Branded by the Badge

Chapter 1

The hard desk pressed against her hips, biting into her her as she was slammed against the heavy oak again and again. She could feel the cold metal of his badge digging into the bare skin of her back, branding her as his, as though there was ever a doubt. Everyone knew it, whether she liked to think they were discrete or not. Everyone knew that Sheriff Russell Randall owned her completely. Her red painted nails dig into the wood of the desk, holding on as he drives into her again and again, her ass still stinging from the hard smacks he'd delivered just moments before. She knew his entire goal was to break her, to make her cry out, but she wouldn't give in, wouldn't give him the satisfaction, not this time. Her teeth dig into her lip to stifle her cries as the desk splinters, a sliver of would stabbing into her thigh. What should have been pain turns to pleasure, causing her to come around him, his dark laughter reverberating against the back of her neck as he bites down, marking her with his teeth. "That's my good little bitch." He growls as he continues to slam into her, his large hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, only darkening the barely faded bruises he'd left from last time. He pulls out, gripping her hair and pulling her up from the desk, pushing her to her knees, standing above her, his uniform still on and a stern look in his eyes, daring her to disobey as he presses the head of his cock to her lips, tightening his hold in her hair as he thrusts into her mouth. She simply opens her mouth, letting him use her as he will. She'd long ago learned that it was just easier that way. She'd given up trying, given up fighting him. After all, he owned her. He was her boss, he controlled her job, her pay, her ability to pay the rent in her run down little shack she called a home. Hell, he owned half the town of Marfa. No one told him no, including Marlena. She feels a tug in her hair and looks up, catching the sinister smirk on his face just as he shoves himself to the back of her throat, coming hard, almost choking her, but pulling back just enough. She swallows as much as she can then pulls back, wiping her face with her hand. She slowly gets to her feet without his assistance. He was too busy tucking himself away, a self satisfied grin on his face. He always looked so damn proud of himself after this. He knew he owned her body, whether she wanted him to or not. She sighs as he pulls her to him and places a hard kiss to her lips, her body stiffening before she pulls away from him, yanking out his arms. "I fucking hate you." She mutters and glares at him. He laughs and slaps her ass. "Yeah, I know you do, but your pussy fucking loves me." She pulls her clothes back on, straightening her hair and leaving his office, slamming the door behind her, his loud, sinister laugh echoing beyond the door. Fighting the tears of anger that always threatened to fall after her little "meetings" with her boss.

She meant it when she'd said she hated the man. She did. With every fiber of her body. There had been a time when she'd felt so differently. A time when she had loved him so fiercely that she'd do anything for him, including lying to a grand jury which she had. That was a decision she'd regretted every day since she had done it. Now, he owned her completely. She sighs as she looks down at her pocket, seeing the envelope sticking out of it, just as there always was when she left his office. In return for him keeping his mouth shut about her lying under oath, in return for him keeping her on staff, keeping her employed, she was expected to run messages and even packages for him. You see, the good sheriff wasn't at all what anyone thought he was. Most in the small town knew that. Presidio County was a tiny county. Only a little over 6,000 people. Most people knew each other. They knew who you were. They knew your family, where you worked, what you did in your free time. So when the big city sheriff moved to town, built a three story house with a pool and married a super model, bought a brand new Benz, everyone knew, but no one asked questions. In this part of the state, asking questions was dangerous. Asking questions got you killed. Asking questions got your family killed. Everyone in Marfa, and most people in Presidio county knew or at least thought that Randall Russell was on the payroll of Romero Valenciano, once of the biggest Mexican drug cartels in the area. And now, he had Marlena De La Cruz roped into it to. She ran messages and packages between Russell and Valenciano's henchman at least once a week. Always reporting to Russell before and after. She hated everything about it. She hated that the man she once would have willingly giving the world to now took everything with an iron fist.