When Rupert finally pulled out of his wife’s behind, his surly expression had been replaced by a look of calm satisfaction that led to a smile.
“It’s seems you’re ready, aren’t you?” he said. “I hadn’t really planned on taking you today…” She lay wearily against the table, unable to look back at his haughty face. “Just in time too, I have a little coming out party planned for you. I think it’s finally time to introduce you to my friends.”
Although she shuddered at the thought, his announcement certainly did not surprise her.
Chapter Six
For several days, Antonia remained in her room, unable to face the world, the house staff, her husband, and most particularly, Rafael Francisco. Those she lived with would hardly notice the change in her usual routine. But Rafael would. He’d visit the empty garden and morning room and wonder if she was sick or away. But he wouldn’t ask about her absence knowing that Rupert’s household would think that odd.
For two days, Antonia sat at her bedroom window and looked down toward the garden gate, waiting until she finally saw her suitor looking for her, his handsome form bathed in the afternoon sun. Her heart broke as she watched him walk away. What was he thinking? Was he despondent? Would he worry? Would he come again? Or was his regard for her as fleeting as the season soon to be moving on?
Rather than diminish her feelings for the man, Antonia’s self-imposed exile kindled an erotic fire richer and more real than any storybook romance she once dreamed over. Her heart begged her to go to him and confess the truth, lay out all the horror of her life and hope he could forgive her for the ugly things she did in the name of physical pleasure. Her heart begged her to expose the truth and hope that by some miracle, Rafael Francisco would understand. And yet, her stubborn mind knew that to confess, she would lose his respect, his affection, his caring spirit. How could any man love a woman so tainted, so unclean?
She would rather have the man she loved believe in her purity than burst his false illusions with the truth.
Antonia might have gone on for weeks exiled in her room, but Rupert unwittingly broke the spell that immobilized her spirit.
Days after her last training session—she’d oddly been given a reprieve from the normal regimen since Rupert finally used her ass for sex—her husband called her into the morning with an important announcement. This request like any other from the man, she could not refuse. She found him smiling, pacing the floor in front of the tiny fireplace that warmed the room on a chilly morning. It was cold now, not having been used in some days.
For the first time in some weeks, Rupert made note of his wife’s pleasing allure as she hesitantly entered the room. She wore a green silk dress that hugged her curves, accentuating the body parts he loved most—the tight waist and curvaceous hips, and of course, her bottom, which seemed poised on air, nicely rounded and jiggling softly beneath her clothes. The scooped neckline of her dress drew his eye to the bounty of breasts below. Her nipples, which she normally took pains to hide, were visible, poking through the fabric like small pebbles. His organ jumped to life. Such a simply beauty! Dark, open, brightly gleaming eyes were framed by her wild tangle of hair, accentuated by emerald earrings—her only jewelry. In spite of herself, she communicated lust; unthinkingly she captured his imagination once again. Having her to toy with was such a pleasure! “My, you look lovely this morning, my bride,” Rupert greeted her affectionately, with a kiss to her cheek and then a more passionate one on her lush, soft lips.
Antonia remembered feeling such adoration and respect for the man in those early days of her marriage, that her body would hotly respond with sensuous spasms every time he kissed her. She could hardly resurrect a flame now—of course, Rupert didn’t notice. He backed away, smiling broadly.
“As promised, my dear,” his eyes lit jubilantly, “I have a soirée of sorts planned for us. You remember I mentioned it during your last training session?”
“Yes, I remember,” she said.
“Good. You’ve been remarkably accommodating when it comes to pleasing me sexually. Your body continues to bloom as it’s rightly used.” She felt the sexual heat radiating from between his legs. “Oh, you will serve me with this ass of yours,” he advised. His lip curled into a smarmy smile. “What a nasty slut you are now.” He ran a finger across her jawline. “And so much more.” His hand trailed down her side and rested on her left rear cheek, giving her a knowing squeeze. “I couldn’t be happier, especially now that the breach has been made and I know that I have you completely.” The comment was bruising, but the man, again, failed to read her response.
Her body bristled; anger, fear, a hateful loathing simmered beneath a practiced stoic calm. “You say that, Rupert, and yet, I’m still alone in bed at night, while you take pleasure in Sonia.” She didn’t even try to disguise her bitterness.
“Sonia has her place, just as you have yours, my darling.” He ran a finger across her lips. “No need to worry. I’ve been too busy in the last week to make a change in our routine, but I know what you desire. You can be sure I’ll be spending far more time with you than my other women.”
This was supposed to satisfy her? What small consolation for the irreparable damage already done in their short marriage. “And I should be grateful?”
“You should be beaming with excitement. I’d take you to my bed right now, but no time. I’m flying to Paris,” he consulted his watch, “in about an hour. Must leave. You’ll be fine here. You can ask Luisa for anything you need. She’s here for you.”
“How long will you be gone?”
He shrugged. “At least five days. I may need to fly on to New York if I can’t get things going my way in Paris.”
At one time, she might have begged to go with him—Paris, New York, cities she’d dreamed of—but the thought of being with him any length of time at all made her stomach sour.
“Well then, you’ll probably be gone longer than five days?”
“Yes. Likely. I’ll call with my plans. But I’ll return for the soirée and life will have a new routine, I’m sure you’ll enjoy.” Suddenly impatient to leave, Rupert leaned in and kissed her cheek. Then he turned on his heel and left the room.
Antonia stood looking at the closed door, numbed. Her heart ached so hard she wanted to rip it out. She finally sank into the yellow-striped sofa, feeling it swallow her whole into its soft comfort. If only she had a man whose arms could surround her with tenderness.
The soiree, the party. It should have been a wedding reception, but she knew what Rupert had in mind. Even if they resumed more normal marital relations, she knew he wouldn’t stop having her used by other men. He enjoyed watching her demeaned; he enjoyed her despair; he thrilled in her abuse and the control he wielded over her every action. Despite his jaw-dropping good looks, the virile beauty of his body and the charm that made even devious plans sound sweet, she understood that Rupert Reyes was in his heart a sadist, no more than that. What she had so far endured was just the beginning not the end of his brutal reign.
The fact that troubled her most was that her father hadn’t seen this before he arranged the awful marriage. If he only knew…
“Antonia, where have you been?”
She turned, seeing Rafael at the garden door. Her heart at the same time leapt for joy and clenched in fear. She sat up straight, ran her hands nervously down her green silk dress and bowed her head, too embarrassed to speak.
“Answer my question, Antonia,” Rafael insisted.
She looked up. “I haven’t been well.”
“Your spirit or your body?”
“Both, I suppose,” she said. “But really, Rafael, you shouldn’t be here.”
He moved into the room. “Maybe not, but we’re safe. I saw Rupert leave minutes ago.”
“Still…”
He sat beside her and took her hand.
“I’ve been waiting for your confession and not very patiently,” he said.
“Rafael, there can be no confessions. I ca
n’t let you into my heart; I can’t share my secrets. I’m Rupert’s wife.”
“No. You’re Rupert’s slave girl.”
She could feel her defenses crumbling, the resolve she’d nurtured for days vanishing with every second he stroked her hand.
“But I can’t. I just can’t!” She started to weep.
“Oh, but, you can,” he said, while lifting her chin so she could not avert her gaze. Her eyes shined, sparkling as luminously as the glittering emeralds. “I can feel your heart; it’s as weighty as a ton of bricks. Every day I’ve visited, you sat with me and we talked. You’d start out happy to see me, but as the minutes ticked by, you’d start to fidget. Your hands would sweat and you’d wipe them on your dresses. I notice things, Antonia. I’m not some gangling youth. Every day at the same hour, you begin to panic. And while I know you wanted me here, you were afraid. Something happens to you every afternoon. You promised me answers the last time I saw you and I want the truth now.”
“What good would it do if I gave you answers? You’ll only hate Rupert more. And since I’m married to the man, there’s no point in our discussing what happens in my afternoons. There’s no point in these conversations.” She tried to pull away.
He jerked her back. “Oh, no. I’m not letting you off the hook. Look at me.”
She stared at his proud face, the black mustache, the fixed expression, the will, the fire in his eyes. His power over her was impossible to deny.
“Okay, you want the truth,” she finally made up her mind to spill it all, “Rupert has been training me…sexually…” Her breath grew short the instant she started but she was determined to keep going until she said it all. “He wants me in unnatural ways, different than sex is supposed to be. For that, he gives me to other men who will prepare me.”
Rafael looked at her impassively, no expression but a slight wincing grimace. “Prepare you for what?”
“For him.” She could feel the anger rising, burning in her gut, her throat, her mouth. “For him in my ass!” she finally spit the last of it out and turned her head away, ashamed.
Rafael didn’t back away in shock; his face registered nothing but concern. “He’s exactly the man I expected him to be, Antonia. I didn’t lie about his life.”
“I know that. And that hurts. Because I’m married, and I can’t change that.”
“You can get a divorce.”
She shook her head. “No, I can’t. Not in my world.”
He stared at her not speaking, while she tried to read his thought. Then suddenly, he pulled her close to him and kissed her on the lips. Their mouths opened as the spontaneous clinch continued, and their tongues danced round in circles. He covered her face with his kisses; she ran her hands over his back, his shoulders and arms. Falling against the couch, they tore at each other’s bodies, searching for bare flesh.
But then, as suddenly as Rafael began this, he pulled up right, then to his feet, bringing Antonia with him. “We can’t do this here,” he said.
“No? But no one comes here.”
“The door has no locks, and we can’t be found out, at least not yet.” He pulled her with him into the garden, through the garden gate that stood like a magic door between two worlds. Moving cautiously under the cover of trees, they made their way to the back of the pool house and slipped inside. Rafael locked the door behind him.
“It’s safer here?” she wondered.
“It’s safe,” he said.
The blinds were closed; the doors locked; the small bed in the corner waiting.
Rafael sat on the mattress with Antonia standing between his thighs, while he began unbuttoning the pearl buttons on her dress that started in the cleft between her breasts. Opening them one by one, he patiently waited until all were undone before he pulled the sides away and cast his eyes on Antonia’s lace-covered breasts and the naked cleft at the apex of her thighs. He drank in the pungent scent of Jasmine, today’s perfume that mixed with the heated aroma of her body, her sweat and arousal. His organ became erect with lust.
They belonged in bed, consummating a relationship that was sacred despite the lack of vows. Rafael collected Antonia’s hands in his, fell back on the bed and brought her with him. Her arms were free to love him, touch him, hold him with no restraints. They kissed with the urgency of the doomed. Grasped assertively with greedy hands. Drank in bodily scents, so familiar, so unthinkable until now. Scissoring their legs, crotch on crotch without penetration, they imitated the rutting motions of sex. Her naked, dark and velvety slit teamed hot against the rugged denim covering his crotch; her sex lips seemed to burn as she banged herself against him, her sweet pussy spasming out of control.
“Oh, damn him!” she seethed softly in remembrance of her foul husband, “Take me, Rafael, please! And damn that fucking swine!”
Fear of being found out kept the uninhibited roar of sound from rising through the reckless air and beyond the pool house. But fear did nothing to hold back the tempest her body had become. With that tempest unleashed, Rafael’s body bore the brunt of her vicious need, though he accepted every vow and curse; this would heal her.
Somewhere in their vital battle, he pushed his pants down his legs and to the floor. Then he rolled her to her back and rose above her, straddling her hips, while Antonia eyed the erection arising from his groin. Her lips moistened, thirsting for the chance to taste his skin and suck the distended flesh. But he made her wait, while staring down at her and removing his shirt. With Rafael at last unveiled, she saw that he was no less a man than her imagination created. His muscles were proud and his skin bronzed like the landscapes of Spain.
“Let’s hope this is man enough for you,” he said, as he lowering his body carefully, then plunging his organ into her sodden slit.
Naked against each other, their sexual muscles clashed, their minds unhinged, their fury grew. He stabbed her sharply, the ferocity of his calculated jabs like arrows fired deep into her insides. She began her climax with his first thrust, whimpering, shuddering, convulsing, and didn’t stop until long after Rafael finished his with an outburst of loud groans of satisfaction.
“Oh my, I’ve been rescued,” Antonia sighed. Her arms extended to the sides of the bed, her legs were still wide open, and her succulent center was still wet and throbbing.
Rafael stood over her. “Rescued, maybe.”
She heard him enough to frown. “Why would you say that… maybe?”
“I may have taken advantage of you, Antonia. My selfish ends.”
Anxiety clenched her belly. “What? You wanted me for sex and that’s it?”
“No,” he shook his head, as he buttoned his shirt. “I love you. But you’re not free and I’m not free to have you.”
“But we can meet here tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. You can come to my room at night and no one will know. We can find the places and the time, I know we can.”
“I suppose we could, but that’s not going to satisfy me.”
“What do you mean?” She was hurt.
“I mean, if I have to hide my love for you, I’m probably going to end up hating you and killing Rupert.” He sat down on the bed as she turned on her side. He ran his palm along the curve of her hips. Her skin was still wet to the touch.
“I wouldn’t care if you killed him.”
“Oh, so you want me in jail?”
“No, Rafael, I don’t want you in jail.” She sat up and put her arms around him, burying her head in his chest for both their comfort. He stroked her wildly wicked hair, winding a lock of it around a finger and gently tugging. “I want you with me.”
“Then you divorce the bastard.”
She winced and pushed back.
“I don’t know how I’d do that.”
“I’ll get you a lawyer.”
“Then Rupert will know it’s you.”
“Rupert will know nothing.”
“Why don’t you first let me talk to my father? He can change things faster than anyone I know. He
’s more powerful than Rupert. He knows influential people that could certainly help me.”
“Why haven’t you talked to him before?”
“He arranged the marriage and I’ve been trying hard to make it work.”
“But it won’t now.”
Antonia watched his determined expression with awe, judging the hard-biting side of her lover to be as ruthlessly cold as her husband’s, as her father’s. Could he really love her too?
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You chill me to the bone the way you look right now.”
“Does that scare you?”
“A little. I’m not sure I can trust men.”
“That’s understandable. But you can trust me. You don’t know that for sure now, but you will.”
She smiled, her eyes wetting with new tears. “I have never been so happy and so afraid.”
“Well, then, talk to your father so you won’t have to fear anymore.”
“I will. I promise.”
Chapter Seven
Antonia paced the floor, waiting for the call to be returned. Why was it taking so long? And what was going on at home? She talked to the cook—cook never answered the phone! And then, Gina, a housemaid. Both women spoke in flustered sentences, hardly able to communicate, and refused to let her talk to her father. Where was her mother? Where was Lupe, her mother’s maid?”
“Was her father home?” she’d asked.
“Yes, he’s home.” She thought Gina was crying.
“Please give him the phone.”
“No, senora, Senor del Gallo cannot come to the phone.”
“Well, then my Mama. Please.”
“I’ll tell her you called. She’ll call back.”
After an hour of desperate waiting, the phone finally rang. There’d better be some answers as to why she was treated so badly!
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