You may as well call them an ogre. They're really mean men who are beautiful on the outside but awful on the inside. And they buy women like me as wives. They can have many.
And I find myself in one of their arms as we drive to his house. His driver sits in the front while we, the man, Wesley and I sit in the back. He clings to me as if I'm going to jump out of the car or something.
My name is Shamara Thompson and let's just say my parents sold me to this man. They are poor and they need money more than they need a daughter.
I'm okay....
We pull up to this mansion and the man, Wesley, helps me out of the car. I would paint Wesley as the stereotypical bad boy. He's got tattoos all over his body with slick black hair and a body that could take on a mountain if it challenged him.
"Out." He demands.
I shake my head and pull myself back into the seat. "out." He tells me, he grabs my ankle and yanks me out of the car. I land on the pavement with a hard oof.
"There....that wasn't so hard." He smirks.
I stare up at him. He's got some audacity. This is not how you treat a lady! And I tell his ass this too. "You shouldn't- ah!"
He throws me over his shoulder.
"I don't have time for this nonsense." He shakes his head as he carries me inside. Nonsense! I kick and thrust until he throws me down on the sofa. "Sit."
I stand.
If he thinks I'm going to be easy to deal with he has another thing coming.
He turns around and stares at me.
"Shamara..."
I tilt my head.
"Sit down."
I continue to stare at him.
"You're going to really piss me off soon, and then I'll have to bend you over." He smirks.
My eyes grow wide.
