Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

Then she was clawing at my arms and pulling on my hair and then she tried to pull away and I knew she didn’t really want away, she was only reacting to the intensity of it.

Then she squirted.

The way she jumped, almost five feet in the air, and said, “The f**k?” made me laugh.

I tackled her to the bed and kissed her all over her face, a succession of powerful smooches all over her gorgeous face.

I expected she’d be all loose and covered in an awesome s*x glow but instead she was crimson and shaking her head and her hand was over her mouth.

Tears unshed filled her eyes.

They looked so green. So shiny.

So f*****g sad.

“You squirted,” I told her matter-of-factly, looking down at my wet chest.

She looked at me like I was speaking Greek.

“Women can ejaculate, too, you know.” I added.

She shook her head.

She had no idea what I was talking about.

“Baby, it takes a very skilled lover to pull that off. Many try and fail. Many women never get to experience it. Congratulations.”

My cockiness did nothing to help my cause.

Surprisingly enough.

She hid her face, mortified. I got up and grabbed her wrist and tugged to get her to follow me to the shower.

She wouldn’t look at me in the eyes.

I knew that other than getting to watch her fall apart completely that my efforts hadn’t given me a damn thing.

Claire’s POV

When I’d woken up at the wrong end of the bed with him all over me, I wanted to die.

I’d climbed down there when I couldn’t get to sleep in his arms. I needed space.

I had contemplated sleeping on the sofa but suspected he’d be pissed and be more than happy to dole out another punishment if I dared sleep somewhere else.

After he washed and shampooed me, trying to be all sweet and attentive again in the shower, he got washed and shampooed and then he left me in there.

I stayed in there until I was pruny.

When I finally got out, he was gone. He wasn’t in the sitting room or the bathrooms either.

I checked the stupid iPhone and there was a text from him.

“Baby, gone to a meeting. See you in a few hours. Order breakfast. Go down to the spa too (take Nino & Jimmy) and I’ll text you in a bit with the name of who to see at a boutique for you to pick a dress, shoes, and whatever for tonight. We have a dinner and show thing with my associates. I left a credit card for you. Pin 5683. Get whatever you want! Text me when you get this. Xo. ”

I replied, “Ok.”

Then I knocked on the adjoining room’s door. Nino opened it. He eyed me warily.

I was surprised neither of them was stationed in here with me after yesterday.

“I’m about to order room service. Do you two want anything?”

“No,” he grunted.

“I’m sorry.” I said, looking him in the eye, “I’m sure I put you in a bad position yesterday and I’m sorry about that. I let my, uh, emotions get the better of me. I hope you didn’t catch too much slack.”

His mouth turned up into a smile, “It’s okay, doll. And no, we’re good.” He winked.

I think I garnered some respect by speaking up and apologizing.

Then I saw his eyes land on my throat, “You alright?”

I nodded and pulled my robe tighter, “I’ll be booking a spa appointment and” I heard my phone ding, “some visit to a dress shop or something. I’ll let you know about that?”

He smiled and nodded, “I’ve already got the details. Get breakfast. Then let us know when you’re ready to go.”

I nodded.

It was already 11:45 and I wasn’t surprised, since I saw the sun rise before I finally fell asleep.

I looked at the phone.

Azriel had texted a boutique name and address and the name Suzette and wrote that I should call down to the hotel spa, that they had an appointment for me.

I replied with a “Thanks”. He replied back with three x’s.

I headed to the bathroom to examine my throat. It had a purply and fairly distinct handprint on it.

There would be no hiding that I’d been choked.

Nino hadn’t looked pleased when he saw it. But what would he do about it, right?

Nothing, likely, except pity the boss’s poor stupid girlfriend who’d gotten herself in trouble.

I ate some oatmeal and fruit while watching the news on TV and tried to get my mind straight.

I pondered things, wondering if I’d kept his dominance cravings at bay after Mexico with the games we’d played at the farm but in the past few days since then there hadn’t been any games but there had been stress.

Oodles of stress.

He’d warned me after Mexico that he might take his frustrations out on me in the bedroom. I had no idea what that meant, really.

Did he need me to be stress relief?

Maybe if I played the kinds of s*x games with him that we’d played at the farm, that’d help.

That’d give him the thrill of the chase and so forth.

Maybe if I made sure I did that, it’d be enough and he’d keep the necklace on.

And maybe if he didn’t have the necklace on I’d know to be extra careful.

I’d do my best to make him not want to take it off and if it was off I’d make sure not to provoke him.

Right now I wasn’t thinking like a girl happy to be with her fiancé on a trip; I was thinking like someone who had to find a way to survive.

I resisted the urge to crawl back into bed and cry some more over the lost ‘love of my life’ that I now knew was just a mirage and decided that I just needed to get through the rest of this trip and when we got back I’d try to figure out what to do next.

When we got back home, he wanted me to start planning our wedding.

At that thought, ice pierced through my veins.

I looked down at the engagement ring on my finger.

It was beautiful alright.

And right now, it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.