Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire
Drake’s Story Chapter 12

She rubbed her hand along her throat where the collar had been, a look on her face like she couldn’t get enough air. She swallowed slowly and as if she was having trouble doing it. And then she took a big breath as she stared at the ceiling. She started to shake her head in disbelief.

She just sat there shaking her head. Her eyes got confused, then they looked angry, she narrowed them at me while still shaking her head. The anger tweaked me for a split second, made my scalp prickle, making me wonder if she was gonna have an issue with my being against them. Then her eyes got distraught-looking. She shook her head some more and then she covered both of her eyes with her palms and she started to shake like a leaf in the wind.

I was sitting opposite to her, on the other sofa. I got to my feet.

“Need something stronger than water?”

She didn’t answer me. She just kept shaking her head, her whole body trembling. Her teeth started to chatter. She was in shock.

I reached for a throw on the arm of the sofa I was on and moved toward her, sat beside her and put the blanket over her shoulders, “Hey?” I reached over and smoothed a lock of her hair away from her face, “It’s gonna be okay.” I put a hand on her back.

She grabbed me. She grabbed me and in a flash she climbed me, the blanket falling off her. She was on my lap, her arms around my neck, and she started wailing, sobbing so loud while clutching me that I could do nothing but hang onto her. So I did.

She was plastered against me, wailing into my chest and hanging on for dear life.

And she cried so hard and so long, with her body trembling hard, that she tuckered herself out and eventually the sobs stopped, then the shudders stopped, and then her breathing went soft, and she fell asleep on me, curled up in a ball with her head on my chest, her knees pulled up against her own chest, her dress up around her waist, but she hadn’t noticed.

One arm was wedged between my back and the sofa and the other hand had been holding tight to my shirt at my shoulder. Her a*s was on my lap. I had both arms around her, one on the back of her head and one at the small of her back and my head tilted back on the sofa, eyes on the ceiling. Wow. That was f*****g rough.

A few minutes after she went limp I cradled her tighter into my arms, lifting her and taking her to my bedroom. I yanked the comforter back and then put her in the bed and then covered her up. She didn’t wake. She snuggled into the pillow and then in her sleep muttered, “Master.”

I felt a muscle jump in my cheek. I shook my head and then reached in between my mattress and box spring and grabbed my gun and backed out of the room, shutting the door behind me.

I re-set the security system. I really didn’t think she’d try to take off but who knew what’d happen when she opened her eyes. Maybe she’d be unstable.

I checked my gun, finished my water, and then stripped down to boxers and headed to the linen closet for bedding and walked to the den to make up the futon. I tucked the gun between the mattress and the wooden frame.

I’d get her chilled out and get things safe and try to help her move on while I sorted out the craziness that was my life. I needed to sort out the business and then replace a way to get my life moving in a better direction. No more scumbags. No more shady s**t.

f**k, after this trip to Thailand, more than ever I was so done. But because of this s**t it might be a while before I could walk away. A long while. It was a complication… to put it mildly.

** ** **

Something was tickling my face. I was flat out, crashed on the futon. It wasn’t comfortable by any stretch of the imagination. I wasn’t alone. It was still dark and she was leaning over me and her hair was tickling my chin. I snapped up to sitting. Her shoulders were in my hands

“Sorry, Master.” She whispered in the dark, “I had a nightmare. I got scared. May I sleep beside you?”

“Felicia,” I let go of her and shook the sleep off, “I’m not your Master.”

“Please?” Her voice was shaky, “I can sleep on the floor. I just need you near, if…if that’s okay.”

I got to my feet and grabbed for her hand in the dark, “If that’s what you need, we’re sleeping in my bed. This futon is shit.”

I grabbed the gun and took her back to my room in the dark.

“Nothing to be afraid of, baby. You’re safe,” I told her and tucked the gun under my side between the mattress and box spring.

I got under the covers and as I did I felt her shuffling beside me in the dark. I figured she was getting her dress off and then before I knew it, she was snuggled up against me, her head on my shoulder. She draped an arm over me and nuzzled in. Yep, skin on skin.

Whoa.

This was wrong. This was looking like some hero worship and I couldn’t allow it. This was indicative of what they’d turned her into. I couldn’t deconstruct it right now, though. I needed to crash.

I was absolutely exhausted. I started to drift, thinking I should move her off me, set some boundaries. But then she softly said, “Thank you for saving me.”

Before I realized what I was doing I leaned down and kissed the top of her head, “You’re welcome.”

****

When I woke up Felicia was lying beside me, snuggled into my side with her head on my shoulder and she was awake, looking up at me.

I stretched a little, not enough to make her move. Her warmth felt nice. Too nice.

“Mornin’,” I said.

“Hi,” she said.

“Sleep okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she whispered. And the way she was looking at me, a little star struck or something, made me uncomfortable.

“You want coffee? I want coffee.” I motioned to get up so she’d shift. I grabbed a robe from the hook on the door to the master bathroom and put it on the end of the bed, motioning to her so she’d know to put it on. She was just in her bra and panties.

I got into a pair of jeans and threw on a tee and headed to the den to get my phone from the charger. I was gonna text Zack and get him over here to check her things as well as mine. I got the coffee started and headed out to the terrace for a smoke with my phone so I could check my messages.

When I came back in she was standing by the island in my black fleece robe with two cups that she’d poured.

“How do you take your coffee?” she asked me.

“Just black. Like my soul,” I joked.

She gave a thin smile, a fake smile.

“Sugar’s there,” I opened a cupboard and pulled out a canister of sugar.

Her eyes widened.

“Milk?” I asked and opened the fridge.

She nodded a little nervously.

I passed it to her and then fetched a spoon from the drawer. She was hesitant for a sec and then she spooned two big heaping spoons of sugar into her coffee, added a big glug of milk and stirred it and then took a small sip, wincing probably at the heat, but her eyes rolled back like it was the best cup of coffee she’d ever had.

“Lemme guess. They didn’t allow you to have milk and sugar.”

She gave me a little nod, “Or coffee. Green or jasmine tea, mostly.”

“Gross. So,” I sat at one of the stools in front of the island and motioned for her to take the one beside me, “I know it’s still probably sinkin’ in but the things I told you last night — I need to reiterate that we have to play things very carefully.

I can’t have them at all suspicious about my motives so it’s best you stay here and in case they’re watching outwardly it’ll look like you’re here, you’re mine. Until I know there’s no threat. We’ve gotta take things one step at a time.”

She chewed her cheek, staring past me, into space.

“I’ll move my stuff outta the den and get a better bed in there for you. That futon bites. Once we have it all sorted I’ll help you get set up somewhere else. It could take a little while and we might have to get creative but if we play it carefully there’s no reason why you can’t eventually get back to a regular life. I dunno how long it’ll take me to feel sure that they’re not watching and we’d be safer to get you a new identity.

They wouldn’t take kindly to hearing you were set free because that’d put their secrets in jeopardy. And as far as contacting your family…”

She jolted like she’d been prodded with a branding iron.

“You alright?” I put my hand on her arm. She looked at my hand and then looked at me and then looked at the floor.

“I know this is a lot to take in, angel, but if you can communicate with me it’ll put my mind at ease. Try to help me out here.”

Her coffee cup slipped out of her hand and crashed to the floor, spilling hot coffee on the both of us.

“f**k!” I reacted and she hit the deck and turtled, covering her face.

“Whoa! You alright?” I grabbed a handful of kitchen towels from a drawer and threw them on the mess of coffee and broken porcelain and then reached down and touched her on the back. She was trembling. Hard.

“Hey? I’m not mad at you. It was an accident. Come on, up. Are you burnt?” I pulled her up to her feet.

The back of her hand was red. The front of the robe was wet. I took her to the sink and held her hand under running cold water. She was staring at my face. Our eyes met.