Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire -
Drake’s Story Chapter 8
I shook my head and let her go. Her eyes were big, her l*p quivered, and she was trying to hold it together and clearly didn’t know what to make of me. I gave her space. I got a suit from the closet and said, “Will you order breakfast and coffee for us, please?”
She was taken aback.
“What would you like, Master?”
“What do you like for breakfast?” I asked her.
“I usually have fruit and Greek yogurt.”
“Is that what you like?”
“Uh…it’s what I usually have.”
“What do you like?”
She shook her head at me, her brows furrowed.
“What?” I said, probably a little too impatiently.
“I… I don’t know.”
Something wasn’t right with her. Was she having some sort of episode or something? She was trembling all over.
I sat on the bed and leaned closer, “What’s wrong; you okay?”
She nodded but her hands were trembling.
“Hey?” I took her face into both hands and leaned close, “It’s gonna be okay.”
She started to huff and puff. She was hyperventilating.
Then she grabbed for me and clutched me tight.
I flinched at first but then put my arms around her and rubbed her back, “It’s okay,” I said.
“Master?” she whispered.
I had to get her to stop calling me that. But I’d work on that later, “Yeah?”
“Can I ask you for something?”
“Yeah.” I answered and she clung to me. My nose was buried in her hair. It was so soft.
“Will you please take me?”
“Yeah, I’m taking you. You’re coming home with me, Felicia.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much for that. I’m honored that you choose me. I can’t even express how honored that you’re taking me with you. But Master, will you please take me now? Please?” She was shaking, her voice was shaking, and my throat was going dry.
“We’re leaving tomorrow. No one will hurt you again. They know you’re mine so they won’t even try.” My gut twisted at my own words.
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. So much. But will you please take me?”
I shook my head, “I’m not getting you, baby. Take you where? Back to Alaska, you mean?”
“Take, fk me,” she whispered into my chest hoarsely, “Please Master, will you fk me please?”
Whoa. Motherfucker.
I pulled back, “Not here.” I let go of her.
She looked down. She looked crushed. This girl was seriously damaged goods. I felt a pang of sadness for this poor sweet angelic-looking girl who was nothing but a profitable piece of a*s to these sick scumbags.
“What’s the hurry, angel?” I asked gently, wanting to settle her down, “There’s no hurry, okay? Let me deal with things and then we’re outta here tomorrow. Lots of time, okay?” I touched her face.
The color drained out of her face. Her mouth dropped open. I tilted my head, watching her. She stared off into space looking catatonic. She was still trembling.
“What do you want for breakfast? Bacon & eggs?” I asked gently. She stared straight ahead, like she wasn’t even here, like she was in shock.
“Felicia?” I let go of her face and snapped my fingers in front of her face. Her attention snapped back to me.
“Breakfast?”
She shook her head, “Whatever you’d like me to have, Master.” Her eyes, her eyebrows, they were twitching in confusion.
I picked up the phone and ordered and then went into the bathroom to shave. I heard knocking. I quickly took the last stroke and rinsed and then grabbed a towel and blotted my face as I headed to the door. She was still in bed sitting against the headboard with the covers up to her armpits.
I opened the door and a bellboy pushed a cart in. That woman who was with Rafe Ruiz yesterday was beside him, “Mr. Clarke,” her eyes darted toward Felicia, “Is everything to your satisfaction?”
I was losing my patience with these people. I gave her a dirty look, “I told Ruiz that I didn’t need anything. I’d like to eat. If you’ll excuse me, please.” I motioned for her to leave. She glanced at Felicia quickly and I sidestepped to block her view and raised my brows at her. She quickly retreated.
I got the impression she wanted her alone but that wasn’t happening. Something about that woman did not sit well. Hell, none of these people sat well. I shut the door. The luggage rack had a large trunk.
“Get dressed. Rap on the door if room service comes and I’ll deal with it. You don’t answer this door at all,” I told her and was about to step out onto the balcony for a smoke.
“What would you like me to wear, Master?” she asked softly, looking pale, sickly pale.
I stared at her for a beat, “Is there something you’d, ah, like to do when I’m done with my tour?” I asked.
She stared at me blankly.
“Do you want to go to the beach? If so, put on a swimsuit. If you wanna go for a walk, shorts and a tank maybe? It’s sweltering hot out there today. We’ll do what you wanna do when I get back.” I shrugged. Clearly she was gonna need direction at every turn.
She nodded a little and pushed the luggage rack toward the bathroom while I headed out to the balcony.
When I came back in there was knocking on the door again. She was in the bathroom so I got the door and it was breakfast on a tray. There was no table and chairs this time so I put the tray on the desk beside the bed and that’s when she came out in a fancy blue tank top, more for a nightclub than a beach, and a pair of white shorts. She wore bejeweled flip flips. She had her bathing suit on as well, I could see the white halter ties around her neck.
She looked like she was trying to be casual but her face was made-up, with smoky eyes and shiny lips with a hint of color, the color of peaches. Her hair was wavy and wild, probably from having slept without styling it after her bath, unlike yesterday when it was board straight. I liked it like this. It was more like the girl from the driver’s license, the girl with the fire in her eyes. There was no fire in her eyes, now though. I didn’t wanna even think about what they’d done to her to extinguish that fire.
I motioned for her to help herself. I lifted a lid and found a dish with separate compartments filled with bacon, scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, and a stack of toast. She looked at the platter with uncertainty so I dished her up a plate with a bit of everything.
I poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her black, “Not sure how you take it.” I motioned to the sugar and milk.
She looked at me with warmth but guarded warmth as I passed her the plate and cup.
Felicia’s POV
I was feeling more than a little unhinged and I was trying my hardest to hold myself together. I hadn’t felt this way in a really long time. I had a system. I found out what was expected of me and I went along with it, fulfilled whatever the duties were until I could be alone again. I had no real outlets other than exercise or reading. When I worked out I poured everything into a workout. When I read I got lost in the story. And when I had sx. When I had sx, I poured everything into it. That’s how I proved my worth around here.
That’s how I got to where I was getting married off, getting out of here. I screwed my assignments good and that kept me going. I’d got off on the s*x because I’d go away to this place in my head and that’s where my heart and soul would live while my body did what it was supposed to do.
My assignment getting them to o****m meant I’d done my job and I’d have an o****m and it’d be done. Usually. It didn’t always go smoothly. Sometimes it went really wrong but I usually succeeded at not letting it show. For the most part I knew what I needed to do to get from point A to point B and that’s what I did every day. I always knew what they wanted before the session and even if I had to stay in character for days I was able to deliver. It was all in an effort to get to Point C and now was that time.
This guy, this Drake Clarke, gorgeous rich guy who inherited partnership in this place could get me to Point C. Once I got there I didn’t know what’d happen. I never thought about what I’d do if I actually got that far. What would I hope for then? I pushed the thought away. I couldn’t let my mind go there now or I’d mess this up. Right now the prize was getting out of here. I couldn’t think beyond that. I could barely fathom life outside of these walls.
I’d never seen him before and other owners frequented the club, they frequented with friends, adult sons, one of them with an adult daughter who was a vicious Domme who’d drawn my b***d more than once. I wasn’t sure who Drake’s father was or if I’d ever met him but Drake, clearly, had never been here.
Here I was with a guy that could get me to Point C but he didn’t want the A to B business so far. Well, obviously he did when he was asleep but awake he didn’t. I’d tried. God, it was humiliating to be told No. And he’d gotten angry with me. It’s all I knew and without giving him that I didn’t know how to proceed. He said he didn’t want it here. But I needed to make sure he didn’t change his mind and leave me behind.
When he left the suite he put the ‘Do not Disturb’ sign on the doorknob so housekeeping wouldn’t come. I made the bed and tidied. I worried that someone would come and tell me it was all a mistake, that he really wasn’t taking me with him, that he’d changed his mind. I was worried I’d messed up and that someone would come, haul me off, and punish me for not representing Kruna well enough.
I’d been trained, had it drilled into me to please the patrons and I’d been trained that if I was ever lucky enough to be purchased by someone who wanted to be my Master that I’d have to be absolutely perfect in order to please him. Failure was not an option. I was considered an exemplary slave. So why was I doing so badly at this? I was like a fish out of water right now, all but flopping around on the carpet.
He was gone for a few hours and no one bothered me. He’d left the television on while he was gone and after a while I’d gotten comfortable on the bed. It had been just about two years since I had a room to myself with a television in it. I didn’t even have the nerve to change the channel. I simply sat and watched the news for the whole time he was gone, mesmerized by the ability to watch news, to see what was going on outside the confines of the resort.
When the door to the room opened I scampered to sit on the edge of the bed, feeling like lounging had been wrong.
He frowned at me and shook his head and then sat. He looked even more pissed, “Did someone come and harass you?”
“No, Master.”
“Good. Alright well we have a few hours until we need to dress for dinner. Are you hungry? Want lunch?”
I was still stuffed from breakfast. I swear that the bacon melted in my mouth like manna from heaven, “I’m not hungry, Master. But if you are I’d be happy to order something for you or to accompany you to one of the dining rooms.”
He rolled his eyes, “No, I’m good. But I need out of this…this…” he searched for a word, “building for a bit.”
I resisted the urge to sigh. I really had hoped he’d just keep me here until it was time to leave. It felt like if I left this room that things could go wrong.
“Come,” he took my hand and led me out to the balcony.
He shut the doors and got close to my ear, making my whole body prickle with sensation, “We have a game to play tonight,” he whispered. My ns tingled at the proximity, at his breath on my throat, at those words, “I don’t wanna but fg scumbags,” he said really softly, so softly I wasn’t sure if I heard him correctly. I frowned.
I looked up at him and nodded, not sure what he meant but wanting him to be pleased with me.
He gave me a small sad smile and put his hand on my face again. God, when he did that it gave me shivers.
“So, we’re taking a walk, I take it?” He smiled at me and then lifted a lock of my hair and examined it.
“Much better wild,” he said.
I smiled, sort of surprised, “I wore both. So whatever pleases you, Master.”
“I’ll change. We’ll do both.”
I was glad he wanted to walk rather than take me to a public area here. I was also glad for the physical contact. It helped me put things into context. Him telling me he was pleased, touching me, it helped me be who I needed to be. It’d be nice to again get as far away from the building as possible. Our walk last night was the farthest I’d been from the building since arriving here. And if I didn’t screw it up tomorrow I’d be on a plane. A plane away from here. My heart wanted to leap with joy and hope. It didn’t. It knew better.
He stepped back inside and I followed. I watched him grab a few articles of clothing from the closet and head to the bathroom. A few minutes later he emerged in a pair of navy blue board shorts and a tan tank top and brown leather thong flip flops. He looked gorgeous. I could practically count his abs, which I already knew from earlier were an 8-pack, through his tight shirt.
His arms were cut, chiseled, inkless, beautiful. He grabbed a pair of sunglasses from his bag in the closet and took my hand and we were off. His hand was warm, strong. I felt twinges in my n*s.
When we were as far away from the buildings as we could get before hitting the fence line he sat on the sand just near the shore, put his feet in the water, and patted beside himself. I sat.
“We’re leaving right after breakfast in the morning,” he said and for the first time since he got here I think his face held no anger.
He was beautiful.
I nodded, feeling my heart swell. The breeze blew my hair into my face so I pushed it out of the way and the way he was looking at me, I couldn’t help it but I think I dared to actually hope a little.
“Tonight they’re insisting I attend a dinner and I don’t want you at my feet but it’s what they expect. And I don’t feel good about leaving you in the room alone for that length of time.” The anger crept back over his features.
I nodded, thrilled that being at his feet was not something he’d expect going forward but feeling cautious at his expression.
“I get the impression it might get …” his face went sour, “sordid.”
I nodded, totally confused. Of course it would get sordid. It usually did. Wasn’t that why he was here?
I mean, some of the patrons were more exhibitionists and voyeurs than others, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for me to attend to someone who was more private about their sexuality but with him being a previous partner’s son I guess I was a little surprised that this didn’t seem to be all second nature to him.
“Has it been terrible?” He took my hand and rubbed his fingertips across the back of it.
I opened my mouth and wasn’t sure how to answer from my heart because I hadn’t allowed myself the luxury of digging in there in a long long time and didn’t dare go there now for fear doing that would screw this up for me so I said, “If I get to leave with you at the end of it, I’d do it again.”
He frowned at me and then shook his head. His eyes were the color of the sea. He had a handsome strong jawline, a perfect nose. His shoulders were large and muscular. And his hair looked soft; it was in his eyes a little. I ached to touch it, to brush it away from his eyes with my fingers. I couldn’t cross that line, though. I looked away, needing to guard my emotions so just stared out at the water but could feel that his eyes stayed on me.
“Build a sandcastle with me,” he said after a few minutes of silence.
I was speechless.
“C’mon,” he gave me a little smile and plopped his sunglasses on and then got onto his knees and started pulling wet sand toward us into a mound.
I was like a deer in the headlights.
“You gonna help or what?” he flashed a big smile and I think my heart stopped.
“I… I don’t know how.”
“I’ll be back. Wait here,” he said and took off jogging toward the grounds where he stopped one of the gardeners. I sat, flabbergasted. I was still in his sights but we were far apart. It was weird to be sitting here in the sand alone. I’d never been so far away from a handler or patron. It felt weird and not in a good way. I felt vulnerable, at risk.
I felt like I was gonna climb out of my own skin.
His shoes were in the sand beside me. I stared at them, focusing, his shoes are here so he’ll be back. He’ll come back. I clutched my bare throat and took slow breath after slow breath.
Thankfully a minute later he was back.
“I’ll take the lead.” He pulled me by the wrist until I was on my knees and I mimicked him, started pulling mud toward the mound.
“That gardener is getting me some tools. Let’s see what we can do.” He gave me another little smile. He had bright white straight teeth, gorgeous full lips.
I wondered what it’d be like to k**s him. Some patrons loved to k**s. Some had been quite skilled at it. Some, not so much. Some were downright sloppy and gross.
But until right now I’d never looked forward to a k**s since being here. I was hoping my Master was a kisser and hoping he was good at it.
This might be the only man I’d ever k**s again.
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