Pushing my body weight against her, I enter inside her, instantly reveling in the way her tight cunt conforms to the size of my cock. I plant my hands on her hips and rock into her slowly, feeling her body out. I know at any moment she’ll open her eyes and realize what’s happening to her. Part of me wonders how she’ll react, if she’ll scream and cry or if she’ll pull me closer and beg for any ounce of pleasure I so graciously give her.
As her hazel eyes meet mine, I know there isn’t a moment left to wonder. She tenses up for a second, so I speak in a hushed tone, attempting to calm her. “Shh, brat. Let me make you feel good.”
Some sort of noise starts to come out of her mouth, so I take my left hand and cover it while my right wraps around her throat. It’s almost like my tightening hand causes a train reaction straight to her pussy as it begins to constrict my cock.
Increasing my pace, I roll my hips and fuck her like a common whore, watching her breasts bounce before my very eyes. The light shines directly over her tits and I see the way her nipples bud a little harder as the time passes. I lean over and bring my mouth to one of her tits, circling her hardened nub with my tongue before I bite down, causing her to moan loudly, thrashing like a wild animal. But, that isn’t all. With each thrust I feel her pussy growing wetter.
In one swift movement I release her throat and mouth, remove my mouth from her breast, slide my cock out of her and flip her over so her knees are on her bed. I slam my cock inside of her, planting my left hand on her hip and skim my right hand up to her hair, tangling my fingertips into her long strands and force her to look me in the eyes.
I’ve always tried to find a woman that could be my Mariana, the woman I’ve always wanted . . . but as much as I’m trying to, I don’t believe I want Elena to become a replica of her. I’m slowly starting to realize I’m liking Elena for being the bratty bitch she is.
Fuck. I shake my head at the realization . . . shocked by the way this woman is somehow getting into my head and release her, removing my cock from her perfectly wet cunt, pick my robe up from the ground and slide it back over my body. After I’m done tying it, I go to the door, remove the key and shut the gate, walking up the stairs.
I’ve never been known to not finish—but I must get a grasp on my head before I go near her again.
Chapter Thirteen
Elena
Two more days have passed with me being confined to the oubliette. Migual has come downstairs to bring me my meals, but instead of leaving me to eat them by myself, he’s ended up staying and starts a discussion with me. Although, I made the mistake of asking him why Luca has been avoiding me . . . and he decided at that point he should leave.
It’s obvious he has some sort of friendship with his employer, however I’m not sure what it’s like. Migual follows every order, but still finds a way to protect Luca if he can.
The sound of Migual’s oxfords hitting the floor cause me to look up and see him coming down the stairwell with a white wardrobe bag in his hands. There are a pair of tan heels in his other hand and he continues toward me. “You need to hop in the shower, style your hair in a curly, but loose way and make sure your makeup is dark. And of course, put on this dress. I’ll be back in half an hour.” Migual unzips the dress, putting it through the iron bars and hands me the shoes as well as tells me he put something in my vanity early this morning that will help me curl my hair and do my makeup the way Luca requires. I think he’s going to leave, but Migual stays put on the other side of the bars.
“What’re you doing?” I ask.
He shrugs his shoulders, bringing some sort of box forward. “Waiting for you to finish. Luca has taxed me with er . . . waxing you.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Migual tilts the box so I can see the contents within it, and all I see are packages with the words ‘waxing strips’ sprawled across them. Fuck, he isn’t kidding. It’s not like he hasn’t seen my naked body time and time again, so I head over to the shower, turn the knob so the water is nice and steamy and step underneath.
Unlike usual, I take time standing under the hot water, trying to relax as much as I possibly can. When I’m done with the shower I go over to the vanity and open the drawer, seeing a blow dryer, and a curling iron next to it. There’s a brush beside it as well and a small can of hairspray.
I plug the blow dryer into the outlet and take my time brushing through my hair, ensuring every strand is dry. “You know, you could come in here while I’m curling my hair and get your job done. Kill two birds with one stone or whatever,” I mumble, sounding a bit ridiculous as I continue on. I’ve already picked up the eyeshadow palette, brushing a combination of black with a soft pink to match the color of the dress when I feel something sticky being applied at the bottom of my leg. Glancing down I see Migual listened to what I had to say. To be honest, I wasn’t sure he would come in here while I was finishing getting ready.
Over the course of another twenty minutes every hair on my body is ripped from me —or at least, that’s what it feels like. My hair comes down in loose curls and Migual is zipping up the pink tulle dress.
Migual walks me upstairs and leads me off the kitchen to one of the two living rooms that I know exist in this house. It’s dark in nature, looking like something that was taken out of an extravagant club, with long black curtains, plush velvet furniture and gold accented lighting. But there’s something different in the room, a two-by-two foot black circular pedestal sits in the middle of the room and as we venture closer I realize I’m supposed to step on it.
Migual is a couple feet taller than me and instructs me to hold my hands out to him, so I do. And in doing so I’m handcuffed again, with my hands being pulled over my head a clicking sound causes me to look up and I see there’s a hook holding my hands in place.
When Migual came down the stairs and I saw a wardrobe bag I became excited at the thought of seeing Luca again, but now here I stand, elevated on this pedestal, with my heart pounding in my chest as I await to see what’s going on here. If anything’s certain, I know something is off. But as Migual leaves the room and I spot Luca coming through one of the curtains, I instantly settle.
I shouldn’t relax at seeing him, considering the things I’ve endured while in this house . . . but I think every day I’m starting to understand a little bit more about him. He has this façade that many can’t see through of being this tough exterior man . . . but he isn’t. I mean, he is, but it’s not all he is. Luca has had tremendous trauma which has turned him into this cold man. Maybe it’s why I’m not instantly afraid of him, because in some way it’s how we relate —we’ve both been through some shit.
“Luca, what’s going on?” I inquire. However, as I ask him this question I realize he isn’t alone. A red headed beauty wearing nothing but jewels walks out from around him, looking at me while she runs her hand over his trousers, directly over his cock and my heart instantly sinks.
My gut has never led me astray, of course I should’ve known something wasn’t right.
Her hair is a muted red, not the fake type, but the all-natural red. Freckles span across her face and she has the most striking blue eyes that cause me to stare right at her. She could be Aphrodite for all I know. Luca takes a seat on the deep red velvet couch fifteen or so feet in front of me and the woman drops to her knees, opens his trousers and begins stroking his cock, all while looking up at him.
I don’t know why, but the fact she’s doing this only makes me angry. After the night we had . . . with what he was doing . . . I thought something was transpiring between the two of us. Was I wrong? Was I the only one feeling something pulling me toward him? It doesn’t make sense. Even now I want to shut my eyes and shake my head.
The woman starts to go down on Luca when I notice the curtain he came in through is shifted and a group of men come in. I count them all quickly. Four men. Four men I’ve never seen before, at that. “Brat, these are my friends. Lane, Alistair, Gregorio, and Charles.” Luca states, while admiring the
woman sucking his cock.
I want to scream, to yell, to tell him he’s a fucking bastard but I know it’s no use. It would only pleasure Luca knowing he’d be getting a reaction out of me. “This lovely woman is Sybil,” He groans, surely from the way she’s making him feel, which only causes the green-eyed monster to course through me. “But don’t worry, she’s not alone. She brought two friends with her, Chasity and Kiera, who are getting stripped in the back. They’ll join us shortly.”
I remain silent, still not sure what to make of all this . . . but I feel as though I’m going to be treated just like this Sybil is. “Boys, feel free to use Brat just like I’m using Sybil,”
The chocolate haired man who looks like he could be a model for GQ walks up to me, grazing his hand across my torso. “Oh, looks like Alistair’s the first one going for her,” One of the other men behind him says.
He continues to graze his hands over the beads on my dress and the roses made from lace. He’s gentle with his touch at first, but the moment he places his second hand on me it’s like I can feel the roughness radiating through his hand, across my skin, and out of nowhere the tearing sound of fabric causes me to look down and I see he’s ripped the part that was covering my breasts, putting them on display for everyone.
Part of me wonders if he’s trying to distance himself from me, or if this might make Luca jealous in some way. God, I don’t fucking know.
One of Alistair’s hands rolls my nipple back and forth while his other one is skimming up my leg, lifting my dress just a tad, until he’s at the small of my back and pushes my ass down lower, plummeting his cock into my pussy at the same time.
I don’t know if I can believe what’s happening to me. I thought if anything Luca would let them touch me, but not let them touch me. My eyes focus on the curtain again, focusing on anything besides the man shoving his cock repeatedly inside me, grunting like it’s his first time fucking anyone. The curtain moves to the right and I see two women who look almost identical to each other. They’re tan, dark haired Spanish women. Honestly, they’re fucking beautiful.
I shift my gaze over to Luca, hoping he’ll look at me for just a moment and tell his friend to take his hands off me, but he’s too focused on Sybil’s lips wrapped around his dick. However, I notice another man comes stalking toward me, while the other two go to the women who just entered the room.
“Ah, Gregorio . . . come to join the fun, have you?” Alistair chuckles lowly, lifting up the bottom of my dress for his buddy.
The other man snickers, “Yes, my friend. You know how I love a beautiful woman and . . . ah, this one is so . . . unique. I’ve never fucked a Romanian girl, but now I have my chance.” Gregorio’s hand comes up from behind me, while his mouth goes to the back of my neck, giving me a hickey like a horny teenager.
His hand darts between my legs and slides some of my wetness from my pussy back towards my ass, plunging a couple fingers inside. A clinking sound and sudden shift of weight forces me to look up and I see Gregorio has removed my cuffs from the hook holding me up and my arms are now wrapped around Alistair’s neck.
Gregorio replaces his fingers with his cock in one foul swoop and all of a sudden I feel a hot, burning sensation. Almost like I’m being ripped apart in two, although there’s some sense of pleasure in it. At the same time I feel betrayed by Luca. He’s allowing his friends to touch me, to use me like one of these other whores in the room. He’s supposed to be my husband and he’s letting this happen.
Tears threaten to spill from my eyes, but I hold them back, not wanting Luca to see the power he’s holding over me.
The rest of the night progresses and the same thoughts run through my mind, how my husband did this, how he orchestrated it, and how I must not be understanding anything. A man who you think cares for you would never do this . . . he’d never let another man’s hands on you, unless you were swingers, which is something that’s discussed between two parties and not just done.
At a certain point, I know I’m on the floor because I feel the coolness of the marble floor on my back and there’s a shadow figure on top of me. I’m moving back and forth, feeling the weight of my breasts bouncing with every movement.
I swear I hear Luca’s voice, but my vision is so blurred and my body is so tired from the events of this evening that I’m not sure what’s real and what isn’t.
A set of arms slide underneath my body. One is behind my knees, while the other is on my back and I think we’re going up a stairwell, but that wouldn’t make any sense. I open my eyes a little wider and see a light on and a large king sized bed in the middle of the room with dark navy sheets. I shift my head to the left and look up to see Luca carrying me. He takes me over to the bed, pulls the sheets back and tucks me under them. I shut my eyes, pretending to be asleep because I’m more exhausted than I’ve ever been in my entire life, and that’s when he surprises me.
“Go to sleep now, my brat. My Elena, my queen.”
If I wasn’t confused before, I surely am now.
Chapter Fourteen
Luca
Bringing my eyes up from my coffee cup, I stare out of the soft blue window-panes and look onto my yard. It’s perfectly landscaped with an infinity pool that goes to the edge of the hill, overlooking the ocean and a hot tub sits at the front of the pool, giving the perfect view.
I should be happy with everything in life, and yet, I stand here sipping this espresso and contemplate the choices I’ve made over the last three days. I pulled Elena close only to walk out on her, avoided her for days on end to try and put a buffer between what I don’t want to admit is pulling me to her, and invited some of my closest colleagues over to use her like one of the whores from the brothels we have fun with from time to time. Yet, at the end of the night I allowed her to sleep in my bed, holding her close to my body and called her my queen.
To say I’m twenty levels of fucked up is an understatement, but I’ve always been this way. There have been very few things I’ve been sure of in life, but Elena is something that continues to throw me off my game every time I’m around her.
I’m not stupid —I know what my actions last night have done. She will never love me now, and it’s the one thing I’ve tasked her with—to love me. Though, how can I ask this of her when I’ve treated her in such a manner? This is what I do, though. I push the women I want to cherish me, away in some fashion. I did it to Mariana all those years ago and here I am now, doing the same with Elena.
Fuck, when I think about it I’ve always had to constantly compete to be something better than who I am. Even as a young man my mother would constantly compare me to Isaac, telling me how I was too much like my father. Isaac was the perfect gentleman, the gold-hearted one, essentially everything I could never be. I only wonder if his death has caused our mother to love me more, or if she weeps for my weakling brother who couldn’t even have the courage to inform our parents he was gay and live the life he should’ve been living. Instead, he chose to live a lie. What for? The Clans? For pleasing our parents? If Isaac had only told them . . . then things could’ve been so different. He’d still be alive.
The clicking sounds of shoes against the tile floor forces me to turn and see who’s entered the kitchen. I shouldn’t be surprised. Migual is standing on the other side of the island with his hands behind his back, like the perfect household staff member should be posed, “Is there anything I can do for you, Luca?”
Placing my hand up in the air, I brush him off. “No, I’m fine. Thank you, Migual.” Out of any staff member I have in the house, Migual is the only one I can stand to be around. He knows my quirks and what sets me off. He’s the diamond in the rough of butlers, so to speak.
Migual stands in my kitchen, not moving an inch. “Luca, I know you better than that. You cannot simply brush me off. Something is on your mind.”
I nod, take a sip of my espresso and look to someone who I view as a friend. “What is wrong with me?”
Migual narrows his brows, sucki
ng in a deep breath. “Well, there is nothing wrong with you. There are only things wrong with the world we live in.”
A haze comes over me when I decide to inquire more, “But there must be something wrong with me, to continue doing this . . . to find a woman who could replace the love I’ve always had for Mariana. Why do I do this Migual? Why do I treat them this way?”
Migual ventures closer to me and I see his eyes scanning over the counters. He purses his lips together for a moment after his eyes fall on something I didn’t want him to see, but I knew he’d figure it out after some point. “Nothing is wrong with you, Luca. You have a . . . misconstrued viewpoint on love, but it doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. If anything, your childhood and the issues you had with the tough love your family made you endure molded you in this way —to show your darkness before you allow others to see the real you. It doesn’t make something wrong with you. It simply makes you unique. Now . . . how many pills did you take?”
I know he spotted the old prescription painkiller bottle I had on the counter. I should’ve been smarter and put it up, but like every time I do this, I didn’t think that far ahead. “I just wanted the pain to go away, for just a while.” I tell my friend, reaching out for him, but as I reach to Migual my body plummets forward and slams against the floor.
The last thing I remember is Migual screaming for Elena.
Elena, my queen, the woman I want so desperately to care about me.
But . . . can she, when I’m so terrified for her to love me?
Chapter Fifteen
Elena
“Elena!” My name being called causes me to jolt from pure shot, out of a dead sleep. I glance around the room I’m in and see dark, navy sheets over top of me, trying to recollect how I got here. And then everything starts rushing back like a tidal wave.
Heretic: The Clans Book Ten Page 9