Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

“Claire, come here,” I said as gently as I could, despite the emotion twisting in my gut, and motioned for her to get up. She did, but robotically.

I took her face into my hands and I kissed her and pulled her tight to me.

She stood there, trembling, despite the fact that the shower was scalding hot.

“Put your arms around me, baby, please?” I pleaded with her.

She did but it felt robotic, too.

I soaped up my hands and started on her back, rubbing my hands up and down. I massaged her shoulders and then took a step back and started on her beautiful breasts, moving my soapy hands up and down and then massaging her throat while softly kissing her face.

She reached over and took the shampoo and squeezed some onto her palm and then started to rub it into her hair, squeezing her eyes shut tight and focusing on her shampooing as if I wasn’t even touching her.

I let go of her and started to scrub myself instead. She turned her back on me and got further under the stream.

When she was rinsed off, she said, “Excuse me,” not looking at me, and then she squeezed by me and left the shower.

I leaned against the wall and contemplated what to do next.

I could hear her blow-drying her hair outside the shower stall.

I got cleaned up and tried to let the hot water wash something…… I didn’t know what part of me I wanted to wash away.

Yes, I’d wanted her pissed, I wanted her provoked so I could bring her to heel and satisfy my urges and work off my frustration but it had gone off the rails.

I never knew she’d run from me.

The hour between her taking off and her telling me she was back in the room put me over the edge.

I knew she wasn’t far, I had a GPS in her ring and had seen she wasn’t far, but the fact that she’d pushed back that hard made me lose my s**t like I’d never before lost it with a woman.

I never knew that it’d get me so filled with rage and that at the same time it’d light a fire in me

that way.

I knew, when I’d been berating her, spanking her, f*****g her, that I was doing damage to her, to us, but I couldn’t get a lock on it.

I’d let it bubble over, I’d gone over the edge with her to a point that might’ve been the point of no return.

That’s why I guess I had her put the necklace on me, I needed her to know I was past it, that I could still be sweet, maybe even be the sweet dinner date guy she dreamt of sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes.

I needed her to know I had that other side of me but that I was done.

For the time being, anyway.

I didn’t know what would happen now.

The look on her face, how distraught she was, it wasn’t just about what I’d done, it was about who I was.

It was about how crushed her hopes and dreams for our relationship now were.

I’d f****d up huge, probably irreparably.

I got out and dried off and I found her in bed. She was wearing a white tank top and white underwear that looked like short shorts when I pulled the blankets back. Her back was turned to me.

I curled into her back, ignoring the sting of her tightening, and nuzzled in and kissed the back of her neck.

Her hair was still a little bit damp and it smelled different, like the hotel shampoo.

I wanted it to smell like vanilla, oats, and honey, like cookies, like it had the night I played guitar while we watched the sunset over the pond at my safe house when all felt right in the world.

Everything right now felt wrong.

I was wrong.

So f*****g wrong.

I whispered in her ear, “I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll fix it.”

She stiffened even further so I knew she heard me but she said nothing.

I leaned over and turned her so that she faced me and her cheek was against my chest. I stroked her throat where I’d marked her and fell asleep with my nose buried in her hair.

In the morning I woke up fifteen minutes before my phone alarm went off and for a split second I panicked that she wasn’t beside me.

But then I saw her.

For the first time, she wasn’t draped over me.

She was huddled into a ball on the bottom of the bed, no blankets on her, and she was asleep but she was shivering.

Pretty poignant to me that in her deep sleep she was that repelled by me that she wasn’t even seeking warmth from me.

If someone had just ripped my heart out of my chest I doubt it’d hurt as much as seeing her like that.

I had to figure out how to f*****g fix this.

I climbed down to the bottom of the bed and curled into her back and wrapped my arms around her.

She didn’t nuzzle in to my warmth. She continued shivering.

I reached in between her legs and started to circle her clit with my fingers.

She stilled.

She wasn’t wet.

She wasn’t opening up for me like she usually did.

If I had any decency I’d leave her alone and let her recover from what I’d put her through but I had no decency.

None.

I wasn’t giving up until I made her shatter and willingly wrap her arms around me.

I needed that right now.

I needed it more than my next breath. I needed to know we were gonna survive this, that I hadn’t lost her.

I kept going but she wasn’t giving me anything. She was trembling with fear now, instead of just the cold, and I knew she was awake and afraid.

I decided to pull out the moves and kissed her from her shoulder all the way down to her h*p and then I turned her onto her back and pulled down her panties and started lapping at and prodding her clit with my tongue.

Her eyes were squeezed shut tight and her bottom l*p was sucked in; a deep V between her eyes.

After a long time and a f**k of a lot of effort, it didn’t seem like it’d get me anywhere.

I worked two fingers in and finger f****d her hard and fast while working her clit with alternating sucking and tongue action and f**k me but I felt elation when I finally tasted some of her moisture.

Her breathing went shallow and then she let out a little m**n and then a little gasp.

About f*****g time.