Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

When she’d put my necklace on me that morning it had floored me, made the reason for my mood swings and my needs so clear to me, and it hadn’t even done much good to wear it.

I was tired, yeah, hadn’t had a lot of sleep in the past few nights but I was craving confirmation and release. Confirmation that she was really mine and fear that she really wasn’t.

And s****l release. I was f*****g exhausted but had all this unused bottled-up s****l energy. Last night didn’t help, either, when Ben Goldberg, the real estate developer I’d met with to talk about a new club here in Vegas, lined up some of his girls for us.

I could’ve taken that redhead in the red leather dress wearing the bondage collar and grabbed the collar and f****d her up against the wall roughly but I didn’t want her. I’d stared at her, thinking about that collar on my Claire.

But the desire I had to be nice dinner date guy for her was overshadowing things. It was f*****g with my head. That, the sheer f*****g exhaustion, and the million things goin’ through my head… so I got loaded, feeling sorry for myself instead, which was something I didn’t do. I needed a release, to get back to feeling in control again.

Our limo was out front waiting for us. She got in and then I told the driver to just drive for a while, so we could figure out where we were going next. I closed the privacy glass.

“What happened to you?” She was wide-eyed and had her palm against her heart, like she was filled with relief, relief that I was okay.

I ignored the piercing sensation in my chest at that and I took a deep breath, “I wanted to see what’d happen if something happened to me in a place like this without my security around. You handled it beautifully. If, God forbid, there’s a next time don’t stand around like a sitting duck for an hour, though.”

Her mouth dropped open and I started to feel guilty. But I pushed it back.

“If you haven’t figured it out already, being with me means you have to think on your feet and think in a certain way. I thought I’d have to coach you on all of this stuff, so you’d know how to handle things, but it’s like you were made for this life. Good job, baby girl.”

Her fingertips shot up to her temples and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, holding it in for a long time before exhaling. Her mouth was still wide open. I waited.

She kept her eyes closed and massaged her temples and then her mouth shut, shut tight. I could see her working her jaw muscles by clenching her teeth.

“Claire?”

“Mm.”

“You alright?” I leaned over and put my hand on her knee.

She recoiled right against the car door, as far away from me as she could get.

“I’ll just give you a minute, shall I?” I suggested and snickered.

Her eyes were still closed but she was shaking her head slowly and I could see she was working up toward a royal f*****g fit.

Claire’s POV

“How many more times are you gonna do this?” I finally asked, eyes closed. There was throbbing in my head. I had a tension headache coming on, a whopper of one!

“As many as I feel I need to,” he said softly, his voice laced with warning, “As many as

I

think I need to put my mind at ease.”

“Put your mind at ease about me not running away?”

“That, and about you being equipped to deal with emergencies. This was probably more about emergencies.”

I guffawed.

“You got a problem with that?” his tone of voice grated on my nerves. I should just open the car door and walk the f**k away from him.

“Was that roughing me up this morning part of the test? Piss me off by being a total prick and then leave me alone to see if I run away?” I finally met his eyes with mine.

“That was just me,” he said softly with a shrug. He looked so arrogant, so unapologetic.

And that was worse because that meant that on top of everything else, every frightened and helpless emotion he’d just put me through, that he really was an abusive a*****e.

The car stopped at a red light and then I did what was probably the stupidest thing I’ve done since meeting him. I thrust the door open and I got out of the limo and stormed off between other waiting cars and then down the street in the opposite direction.

An instant after I did I caught the view of someone running, from the corner of my eye. It was Nino. He’d gotten out of a small smart car behind our limo and he was on his phone, talking while he was following me. Figured. The whole thing was staged; I was probably never alone at all.

I shot Nino a dirty look over my shoulder and I kept right on walking. My pocket dinged. I kept walking, but faster, more determined Then I was through a revolving door, Nino not ten feet behind me, and inside of a casino, I didn’t know which one, and I was storming down the trippy-looking butt-ugly carpet and because I’d ignored it the first time, my pocket dinged again. I ignored it again. Suddenly I felt fingers grip my arm at my bicep. My heart hit the bottom of my stomach.

“Read your text,” Nino told me. He was not smiling.

I shrugged him off and thrust my hand in my pocket and pulled the phone out to read the text from Azriel.

“Fine, cool off. Nino will keep you safe. Be back at the suite in half an hour. I’ll be waiting.”

I responded to his text without hesitating,

“f**k YOU!”