“You see, Señor Acosta will lay on the bed with his legs off the side, y you will straddle him, yes?”
I nodded, more frightened than I’d been in a while.
“And then I,” he said, “Will stand between his legs on the side of the bed, you see, y I will fuck your ass from behind.”
“What?!” My heart rate tripled and I was struggling for breaths.
Josef laughed at the look on my face and clutched his heart. “Es no so bad, I swear!”
“You are asshole.” Mia smacked the back of Josef’s head with the book. She looked up at me through her long fake eyelashes. “Señor Acosta like to have someone watch him when he fuck. Okay? He want Josef to watch and touch his self.”
Relief washed through me and I threw myself at Josef, punching his arms. “You big jerk!”
He laughed and made a half-hearted attempt to push me away.
And then I thought about Josef watching me being fucked and I flushed all over. I walked down to my bed, away from the others, so I could lay and mentally prepare myself.
I’d given head in the great room, which was basically an orgy all the time, and I’m sure Josef had seen, but I was always taken to a private room for sex. It’s not a big deal, I told myself. And it really wasn’t. It was just Josef, someone I trusted. It might be weird for a minute, but I was sure it would pass. If I could handle some of the things I’d done, I could do this.
I draped my forearm across my eyes and tried to nap. I never slept well at night. Too many weird dreams and nightmares and waking up with my crotch throbbing. I needed some relief. Sometimes when I showered I’d quickly work myself up while washing, and then squeeze my thighs together and give myself a mini-orgasm. It was dangerous, and I was careful not to vocalize during those too-brief moments.
Josef woke me when it was time to get ready. He chose my outfit—a black miniskirt with no panties and a slinky, purple blouse that dipped low in the back. I did my hair and make-up, then looked over at Josef to see if he was ready. He looked sharp in black slacks and a navy dress shirt. The top three buttons were undone to show his chest. I must have stared too long because he grinned and said, “You like, eh?”
I rolled my eyes. He knew he looked good.
A knock sounded on the door and my stomach went into a low dive of nervousness. I experienced that sensation every night, but it was especially powerful tonight. We put on our collars. Luis led us to the suite. Mr. Acosta greeted us and handed Josef and I glasses of champagne.
Ugh. This was kind of unusual. I forced down half the bubbly stuff, but when I tried to set down the glass Mr. Acosta motioned for me to drink it all. So I did, feeling the lightheaded effects almost immediately.
As soon as I finished it he pushed me up against the dresser right next to Josef and began to kiss me. I hated when they kissed me. I rubbed myself against his crotch as I unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it open, hoping he’d hurry and get to it. Mr. Acosta turned me and put my palms against the top of the dresser. He moved my hair aside and kissed my exposed back, pressing his cock against my ass through our clothes. I moaned, like I was supposed to, and let my mind fall into auto-mode. I was over feeling dirty and disgusted during these interludes. Now I just played my part as if it were all a show, hoping it would end quickly.
He pushed the material of my shirt down my shoulders until it fell over my hips to the floor, and he grabbed my breasts. He watched us in the mirror, my breathless expression as he kneaded me. I could see Josef’s head turned to the side, watching us as well, making my heart beat harder.
Mr. Acosta turned me to face him again and pushed me down by my shoulders until I was on my knees. I unbuckled his belt and unclasped his pants, freeing his erection and immediately submersing it into my mouth. He let out a loud groan and grasped the back of my head, urging me to take him deeper. After a few minutes he pulled me up and motioned me to the bed, bending me over the side. He pulled down my skirt, getting me naked. His fingers found my pussy—I rarely needed lube anymore—and he commented about how wet I was for him. Actually I was wet all the time these days, but he could think whatever he wanted. I arched my back and circled my butt, pushing it out for him.
A show. It was all a show that I did on reflex now. There was no room for emotions when it was time to entertain.
Then I caught Josef’s eye. His long cock was through the opening of his pants and he was stroking himself, watching me through those long strands of hair with his dark eyes. I held my breath as hot sensations zinged across my skin and I felt Mr. Acosta’s hardness probing around my opening. He thrust himself into me and for a moment I closed my eyes and moaned, “Oh, sí!”
When my eyes opened again I caught Josef’s hot stare and couldn’t look away. His strokes matched the exact speed of my patron moving in and out of me from behind, as if imagining it was him inside me. My breathing came faster than normal as Mr. Acosta began to pound me. I felt wilder, bucking my hips backward and making him holler with the effort it was taking not to come. Sex was often accompanied with a sense of momentary power, but this was different, more primal and erotic than usual.
Mr. Acosta pulled out and smacked my butt cheek. “Get on the bed,” he ordered in Spanish. He crawled up behind me and flipped me to my back. He pushed between my legs and fucked me at hyper speed, pushing us to the edge of the bed where my head hung off. I made plenty of noise for him. Josef had moved closer. He’d shed his pants and now kneaded his balls as he stroked, only two feet away from my face.
Our patron sat up and looked at Josef.
“Join us,” he said in Spanish. “Touch her while you touch yourself. We will all three come together.”
Josef was going to touch me, and that sounded way too nice. Maybe it would be okay for me to come, just this once. He climbed on the bed, on his knees next to me, and unbuttoned his shirt, letting it hang open. Mr. Acosta held out my knees and pushed his cock back into me. Josef took his own dick in one hand and pressed two fingers to my clitoris, circling while he pumped himself. His face was so serious.
Oh, shit. This was so hot. I felt an orgasm building. But then my eyes left Josef and I looked at our patron who stared down at me like a hungry, sweating animal. Big mistake. My orgasm deflated along with my excitement at finally getting some relief.
I would have to fake it. I closed my eyes and squeezed my boobs, making low moans that became faster and louder. As I gasped, crying out, Mr. Acosta pulled out and grabbed himself. Both men tensed and shook, spewing their combined semen all over my thighs and stomach, shooting it all the way up to my breasts and neck.
As the three of us tried to catch our breath, Josef looked down on me with something akin to disapproval mixed with confusion. It cooled me and I suddenly wanted to cover up. Why was he looking at me like that?
Mr. Acosta fell onto his back, his penis flaccid against his thigh, and said, “Leave me.”
Josef and I quickly gathered our clothes and did just that.
Outside the door I was shaking as I wiped the come off my body with my shirt. Josef pulled his pants back on and we followed Luis to the slave quarters where he locked us in for the night.
We both took off our collars and went straight to the shower in silence, keeping our distance. I could feel him looking at me, but I didn’t look back. We dried off and climbed into our beds. Mia and Jin were still gone. I’d never felt shy or embarrassed with Josef, at least not since those first days. I didn’t like this sudden distance between us. I curled up under the one sheet I was allowed and finally looked at Josef. He had a knee up, one arm above his head, and he was staring at the ceiling, naked.
“Why did you fake it?” he asked without looking at me.
I was surprised. He really was upset about it. Part of me was nervous to discuss this because of the cameras, but Marco wasn’t home and he was too busy a man to come home and watch hours of footage.
“We fake it all the time, Josef. Me and the other girls. I fake it every time.”
&nb
sp; “Did it not please you when I touched you?”
His voice was soft, and my heart squeezed for him. I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation. I wanted to explain, but I was afraid to badmouth a patron.
“It did feel good. But…I just couldn’t. I’m sorry. It wasn’t you, I swear.”
He pursed his lips together and rolled to the side, giving me his back.
Wow. I’d hurt his feelings. I’d never seen him get upset like this. I knew he took pride in being good at what he did—he could get any patron off, but I wasn’t his patron and he didn’t need to please me. Maybe he just wanted to. The thought made me pulse between my thighs.
Shit. I’d never be able to fall asleep now.
I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, wanting desperately to touch myself or stuff the pillow between my legs. When I finally began to doze I heard a small moan from Josef. I looked over at him in the darkness. His sheet was tented and I saw him place a firm hand down over his erection, pushing it to his stomach, but not stroking or doing anything to relieve himself.
Intense arousal shot through me and I trembled. We both had something the other wanted—needed. When I moved I could feel the pool of slickness between my thighs and I couldn’t help but breathe harder.
“Josef?” I whispered.
His head shot over to me and his hand tightened over himself. “Don’t talk to me right now, Angel.” His voice was gritty with lust.
We were both in a weak and vulnerable state, made worse with the knowledge that Marco was gone for the night. Stubborn rebellion kicked up inside me, fueled by extreme need. It had been a long time since I wanted something bad enough to be willing to face punishment. I threw the sheet off me and slipped a hand between my legs, watching as the whites of his eyes grew larger in the dim room.
“Josef…” I breathed.
In the next heartbeat he was on top of me.
I’d never been so desperate to be filled. When I opened my legs and Josef slipped between them we didn’t bother with gentleness or try to be quiet. He plunged his full length deep inside of me, the longest I’d ever taken, and we moaned together. I gripped his back and felt his muscles clench as he pumped into me.
I screamed, coming almost immediately. Oh, God, he felt so good. It was a glorious, delicious feeling to be having sex because I’d chosen it and wanted it. I ground myself against him, needing more as the feeling of pleasure waned and grew again.
“More,” I said.
Josef stroked harder, slamming into me with his solid hips until my nerve endings were exploding again, and a grin shone on his sexy lips. His worries about not being able to make me feel good were being put to rest.
Josef leaned down and brushed his lips against mine. “Let me in your ass,” he whispered.
“No way,” I said said with a breathy laugh.
I flipped us so I was on top and I rode him, feeling him so deep. My third and final orgasm hit me with a violent shudder, my head falling back in abandon. He grasped my hips, his arms flexing. I felt him inside me, rocketing with his own pleasure release as the tendons in his neck stretched taut and he grunted. He was beautiful.
Our movements slowed and we were both panting. Fear and panic set in almost immediately as reality came crashing down.
“Oh, fuck!” I whisper-yelled, lifting off his softening cock and pushing him out of my bed. “What have we done? Shit. Shit!”
Josef fell into his bed like a lump. In the dark I could see his tired smile.
“It was worth it,” he said.
I huffed a laugh through my nose and shook my head. I was too scared to joke. Six months of sexual tension had been relieved, and raging bulls couldn’t have pulled me away from him during the ten minutes we’d been going at it. But now…now I was filled with fear.
In my mind, I ran through all sorts of scenarios. Marco and his staff had so much to take care of. Maybe nobody was manning the camera room right now. It was possible nobody would ever know.
I let out a deep breath. Nobody was breaking down the door to reprimand us, which was a good sign. Josef had already fallen asleep in his bed, breathing evenly and harder than normal in his peaceful state. He wasn’t at all concerned about punishment. I was being paranoid. Again, I let out a breath.
Nobody would find out. Everything was going to be okay.
The next morning when Jin and Mia came back to the slave quarters our breakfast tray had not been delivered, which was strange. A couple hours passed and it was clear they’d forgotten to feed us with Marco being gone. Nobody said a word. We went about our business, Josef doing his light workout in the corner while the three of us girls did our own things—showering, reading, painting nails. Sounded much more glamorous than it was. We were bored.
Not to mention the awkwardness between Josef and I. We’d yet to look at one another. I felt guilty, like I’d taken advantage of him. Not that he’d seemed to mind, but that was besides the point.
When noontime arrived and nobody came to get us for lunch I started to feel sick, both from hunger and nerves.
I met Josef’s eyes for one brief moment. I think we were both communicating the same thing: They know. He appeared resigned, while I began to panic. I forced myself to curl up on my mattress as if napping, and tried not to look guilty. My mind raced. Maybe we weren’t caught. Maybe something had happened to Marco. The thought of him being killed sent me on a roller coaster of emotion. I was elated at the thought we might be freed, then I felt guilty for being glad he might be dead since he’d been so nice, then I was pissed at myself for referring to my captor as nice. What the hell was wrong with me? I refused to go Stockholmy on Marco. I would never fall in love with him. It was more of a paternal feeling, which was just as disturbing in a different way.
Those were the screwed up kinds of thoughts I was having when the door to our quarters finally opened. We all got up and moved toward the entrance. I was expecting to see Luis, but it was Marco standing there with a stern face, Perla behind him. The other four of us fell to our knees with our heads down. My heart pounded.
Please don’t know, please don’t know…
In his customary calm, level voice, Marco said, “Angel, venga conmigo.” He was telling me to come with him. I was expected to recognize basic Spanish commands at that point, so I moved forward on my hands and knees.
I raised my eyes just enough to make sure I wouldn’t run into anything, and I saw Perla pass me, going into the quarters with a tray of food. My stomach grumbled with a gnawing emptiness. I reached up and grabbed my collar from the table at the entrance, securing it around my neck with shaking hands. Wearing a pink silk and lace camisole and matching undies, I crawled through the villa behind Marco. He led me to a wing of the house where I’d never been. Two armed men guarded the hall. What was going on? I was so nervous. Where was he taking me?
He stopped in front of a door and I watched his shiny black shoes turn to face me. I sat back on my heels, placed my hands on my thighs and kept my head down.
“Angel…my golden trinket…” His voice was even softer and lower than normal, which filled me with dread. “Do you think there is anything that happens in my home I don’t know about?”
My whole body became as heavy as lead and the breath I’d been inhaling got stuck in my lungs. A deep tremble began inside me, starting in my belly and radiating outward until my hands shook and my jaw chattered. I tried to clamp my teeth together. The hall was so quiet I could hear my breaths as they started back, practically hyperventilating through my nose.
“Yo sé que tu hablas español. Siempre lo he sabido.” I know you speak Spanish. I’ve always known.
So lightheaded…I felt my weight dip to the side and I caught myself. My body wanted to pass out from fear overload.
He knew. Of course he knew. He’d probably read every article and seen every newscast about my disappearance. He would have read about my college major. I’d been playing stupid all along for no reason. A burning sensatio
n shot through my sinuses, behind my eyes, making my nose want to run, and my throat need to swallow. My body was trying to cry.
No. No tears. I kept my head down and swallowed hard.
In Spanish Marco said, “We will no longer converse in English. You will speak only Spanish, even to the other slaves. Do you understand?”
“Sí, Master.” The words tumbled out quickly. I was so terrified I would have done anything, agreed to anything he said.
“Come with me,” he ordered in Spanish. “I have something to show you.”
I heard buttons being pressed on a wall panel, and the door clicked open. I followed Marco into a high-tech room filled with a static ringing from hundreds of television monitors.
“You may look,” Marco said, again in Spanish, and I knew that’s all I’d hear from now on. I wondered if I’d ever hear or speak English again.
I looked up and held in a gasp. Every freaking corner of the villa was being watched. A man sat in front of the screens with an earpiece and a gun, watching every movement on the property.
“This room is never empty, Angel,” Marco crooned. “Nothing escapes me.”
“I’m sorry, Master,” whispered, and my voice cracked. I knew I was speaking out of turn, so I wasn’t surprised when Marco smacked me across the face.
I dropped my eyes and held my sore cheek. Marco put a gentle hand on top of my head.
“Watch with me,” he said.
I slowly lifted my eyes. Marco nodded to the man, who pushed a button, and a blank screen came to life. It was mostly dark, but my eyes focused on the moving figures and I had to clasp a hand hard over my mouth. It was Josef and I fucking. He turned the volume up. We were loud. I couldn’t believe that was me—primal, graceful, wild.
“Hmm…” Marco made a sound of interest when I came in the video for the third time. “You are beautiful when you take your pleasure, Angel. Why is it that you do not come for my patrons?”
Escape From Paradise Page 10