Branded by the Badge

Chapter 2

Russell sat behind his desk, his black cowboy boots resting on the wood of the desk as he drums his fingers on it and looks at the door. He'd been in his office for over an hour waiting for Marlena to arrive. He didn't like to be kept waiting, and she knew that. She'd started growing more and more defiant over the last few months, and it was beginning to irritate him. He not only enjoyed having her under his control, under his thumb, but he needed her there as well. He lets out a heavy sigh and reaches into his top desk drawer, pulling out a framed photo that no one knew about but himself. There smiling back at him, arm in arm, looking so happy and in love, was himself and Marlena. Yes, there had been a time when the calloused, often cruel sheriff had fallen for the sweet secretary. The photo had been taken five months after he'd come to Marfa to take over for the previous sheriff. That was when times were simpler, when he didn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders and the hot breath of Romero Valenciano on his neck. If anyone asked Marlena, she'd tell them that was before he showed his true colors, but then, that's exactly how it should be, how he needed it to be. If anyone had an inkling that he didn't truly loath her, that he didn't see her as his possession to toy with and do with as he pleased, then she would be in more danger than she could ever imagine. He hears the clicking of her heels on the hardwood outside of his office door and places the photograph back into the drawer, shutting it and folding his hands together over his chest, schooling his features into that emotionless mask he tried to keep around her as she opens the door and comes in. He slowly looks up, at her, a sneer on his face. "Well, how kind of you to finally join me. I don't like with my toys aren't where they're supposed to be." He snarls and motions to the door. "Lock it." He growls and watches as she does just that, juggling the hot coffee and the bag of donuts in her hands. He sees the bandage on her arm from the night before and smirks as he remembers the startled look on her face when she saw him in her kitchen. He loved surprising her, loved the way her heart rate picked up. He lifts his hand, crooking his finger at her and moving his legs from the desk, putting both feet on the floor, spreading his legs, making room for her. "Come take your place, bitch." He grumbles and takes the coffee from her as she crosses the room.

Marlena's body had tensed the moment she entered the room, before she'd even turned to face him. Just the scent of his cologne and the presence of him had her on edge. She hated that her body reacted so easily to him, her nipples hardening the moment he spoke, her breath hitching at the warning tone in his voice. After years of this demented relationship, if you could call it that, her body had become conditioned to him, to his every demand, his every whim. Every day she was reminded that he completely owned her. She crosses the room, her legs obeying his command before her mind even realizes what she's doing. She hated herself for this. Hated him for making her do it, but most of all, she hated herself for still holding onto that tiny scrap of hope, of love for this vile man. She moves between his long legs, her hands splaying out over his dark polyester uniform pants as she lowers herself to her knees. Her dress rose above her knees, exposing them to the rough, hardwood beneath her, but the bite of the wood against her skin was not unwelcome. The physical pain was welcome. It was minor and almost pleasant compared to the emotional and mental pain the bastard put her through daily. She feels his hand in her hair and yelps as he yanks. She looks up, watching as he sips his coffee, his dark eyes boring into hers, warning her, daring her to pull away or disobey him. Of course she didn't. She was too terrified of what may happen to even attempt that. She reaches for his zipper, her hands freeing him from the confine of his uniform before taking him into her mouth, running her tongue over the head of his cock as she begins to suck him. A deep groan falls from his lips as his hand relaxes in her hair. "Good girl." He purrs as he watches her, still sipping his coffee. "Now, Valenciano has given us a target, doll, and you're going to help me." He pulls her hair sharply when he feels her begin to pull off his cock to protest. "I didn't say stop. And you know there's no use arguing. We both know you want to." His hands soften in her hair again, giving her that tiny bit of gentle touch that she craved so badly. He knew just the way to keep her docile, to keep her hanging on and pliant.  "There's a judge that's been causing V some trouble recently. Asking too many questions, digging too deep into things. You're going to help me take care of it, aren't you, doll?" His lasts words come out in a growl as her nose buries in the dark curls at the base of his cock, his hips jerking upward before she pulls back and starts a shallower rhythm. "You're cheating, bitch. Don't try to rush this." He barks, slamming the coffee cup on the table and settling back in the chair, both hands settling on her head as his eyes focus on the movement of her head, the way her sweet mouth stretched over his cock. He could tell by her body language that she was still going to fight him on the orders from Valenciano, but he had other ways to convince her.