Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

She looked up to the sky and then kissed her fingertips and pointed them at the sky, “They’ve become family to me.” She motioned to my plate again, “Please, madame; you need to eat.”

I took a bite of food. She kept talking.

“Azriel is the oldest son of Gerard, God rest him in peace. He took over the family business when he was only 16. He has big responsibilities. Big. This means you will have an important position. He’s like a son to me, you know? I have no kids but his mother died and so I was like his mother. We’re like family. You’re resistant to this and that is completely understandable. But soon you will learn that Azriel is not such a bad man after all. He may have his demons… dark demons but he is a good man. You will see.”

I was shocked, “I’m a prisoner here, Rosita. So I’m sorry if I’m failing to see the virtue of goodness in your employer?”

“You’ll see. Underneath all his—you’ll see.” She cryptically said, not offering any other explanation.

I scoff in annoyance, making her continue the praise of her employer who was nothing more than an emotionless a*****e to me.

“ I know he has dark tendencies but I think the right woman will bring him into the light. He’s had much pain in his life so far. He’s had a lot to prove. He’s beautiful outside; he just needs love to help create some beauty inside where he feels ugly. You’ll see.”

How promising. Ugh.

I sipped my coffee and stared out at the forest beyond the pool. I was done listening to her. This was pointless.

“I hope we can be friends. You can come to me if you need anything.”

Yeah, she’s loyal to him, to them. I won’t go to her for a thing. I stared, unseeing, ahead of me.

She must’ve picked up on my vibe because she left me alone then, patting me first on the shoulder and saying something softly in French. I ate some of the food but really wasn’t all that hungry so it was tasteless and pointless.

It started to rain so I wandered back into the house. Rosita was cleaning the kitchen.

“Should I give you a tour of the house?” she piped up.

“Actually, I’d like to lie down. I don’t feel all that great.” I couldn’t care less about a tour of my prison.

She smiled warmly, “Do you need something? Painkillers, tea, anything like that?”

“I just need a nap. Thank you, Rosita”

I nodded, then I went back upstairs to Azriel’s room and got under the covers. I felt dirty in his bed, the bed where he’d screwed me that morning.

The bed where I’d let him do that to me without fighting back.

The bed that smelled like him and that smelled like s*x.

I wondered if my Dad had lost any sleep these last nights.

Was he even worried about me?

Was he even trying to find me?

He probably wasn’t.

I’d lost any family I had when my mother left this world.

I had no one.

Absolutely no one.

I thanked my lucky stars, if I had any, (I probably didn’t) that I wasn’t going to get pregnant from this morning’s activities since he hadn’t worn a condom. I rubbed my arm, feeling the small birth control implant that was there. I only hoped that Azriel Clarke didn’t have any STDs.

I woke up a few hours later feeling no better. I wandered over to the wet bar on the other side of the room where Azriel had gotten wine from the previous night and opened the mini fridge. He thought I’d been asleep but I wasn’t.

It was stocked with bottled water and had several wine bottles plus a few bottles of beer.

I got a bottle of water and then wandered into the bathroom and found a bottle of Tylenol in the medicine cabinet.

I took two of them, hoping they’d save me from this excruciating tension headache, and then I climbed back into the bed.

My mind was racing…. filled with depressing thoughts. All my mind could think about was the various possibilities of me dying in extremely excruciating ways.

What I did want to think about was how I was going to get out of this mess.

When it got dark, the door opened and I thought it’d be Rosita again as she’d looked in on me and tried to engage in conversation at least 3 times but this time it was him.

I looked up at him from the bed, where I’d been all day. He stood over me, staring. I wanted to disappear.

“Honey, I’m home.” I could see him smiling, probably thinking he was funny. I looked back to the television. My whole body was tense, locked tight.

“Rosita has dinner ready for us.” his tone was gentle but his demeanour wasn’t.

I shrugged.

“I need to talk to you about a few things so maybe up here is better. It’s more private. I’ll bring it up.”

I chewed my lower l*p and didn’t give him anything.

He sat on the edge of the bed and flicked the lamp on, “I’m gonna try to be patient with you but I won’t tolerate this for long.” His eyebrows were up and he looked serious but not angry.

I blinked at him a few slow times and then rolled my eyes and looked back to the TV, trying to give off a “Whatever’ vibe.

Suddenly, he had me hauled up to standing. Now his eyes were cold and angry-looking and he had my chin in his grasp, “I don’t appreciate being ignored,” he told me, “You’d be smart to remember that.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you. I know you’re here.”

“I don’t appreciate the attitude, then.”

“I don’t appreciate being kept prisoner,” I said softly, pushing my palms against his chest to get him to let go of me. How dare he think he can just manhandle me!

He let go of me and I sat back on the bed, ignoring the fact that he was looking at me like I was a piece of meat. “I’ll go get dinner for us,” he said.

“Not hungry,” I muttered.

“Fine, suit yourself.” He let me go and left the room and I sank down into the pillows like they were the pits of despair.

Biting back tears, I just stared off into space until it got darker and darker and then I eventually fell asleep.

** ** **

He was in bed with me, kissing my neck. My eyes bolted open and I squirmed away. He caught me and stopped me.

“Out of those clothes,” he said.

My eyes bulged. Oh no. I shoved him away and he caught my wrist.

“Hey, I told you. Obedience is rewarded but you haven’t been very obedient this evening, have you? Are you going to take them off or will I have to do it?”

“Go f**k yourself,” I muttered under my breath. I don’t know what possessed my mouth to say that but I instantly regretted it.

Covers were flung back and then he yanked the pants off me, pulling the underwear down with them. I tried to struggle but it felt like I was a flailing toddler and he was a giant. Then the tank top was yanked over my head while I was simultaneously pulled over his lap.

He was in a pair of silky boxers and I felt his e******n poking me in the upper abdomen. One hand was on my upper back and the other on my a*s and his fingers dug in.

“Apologize for saying that to me.” he said softly. So softly it was frightening. His voice was laced with menace.

I held my mouth shut. It was a weird position, being naked over his lap, feeling his e******n digging into me like this. His breathing was heavy. He slapped my a*s hard. I cringed at the pain and tried to get away but he had a firm hold of me.

“Apologize,” he repeated in a still soft but even more menacing tone.

I pursed my lips. Forget this. I wasn’t apologizing to him for being shocked when he demanded I get naked. I tried to struggle to get out of his grasp again. Another slap. This one was harder.

“Ready to apologize yet?” he demanded, his voice still quiet but his tone even harder.

His hard-on seemed even harder, too. The sick a*****e was getting off on this so much. Spanking me, it was turning him on.

I didn’t care. I wasn’t giving in. This was my life, my freedom, I couldn’t just give in, give up everything.

“Answer me, Claire…” he sang out, sounding impatient. Another slap.

Ow! My a*s was on fire. He wanted to do this. This was going to happen to me no matter what, tonight, I just knew it.

“I love the way your body jerks against my c**k when I spank you, baby,” his voice was husky.

Suddenly he pried my legs open and plunged a finger into me hard. It was excruciating.

“Not wet tonight, Claire?” He tsk tsked at me, “That’s disappointing.”

“I hate you.” I cried out into the sheets, tears streaming down my face, “You sick f**k!”

He sat motionless for a moment and I didn’t know what was coming next so I just stayed still. Then, he leaned forward and I heard the bedside table’s drawer open.

I heard a pop sound, like a cap pop off something and then I felt something slimy down there. He was rubbing something on me down there. Damn him, was he… He was! He was lubricating me.

He slapped my a*s again and I must’ve jumped about ten feet or as far as I could, still in his hold, but then he plunged his fingers in again and pumped them in and out a few times and then pinched my clit.

“So tight, Claire,” he muttered, his finger prodded at my rear hole.

Oh! Heck no.

I tried to scramble away and he tried to grip me but his fingers were slippery from the lube so I managed to get off his lap. I took a tumble to the rug and then tried to scamper away, feeling the rug slice across my knee.

I wasn’t fast enough. He caught my ankle in his grip and the rug sliced again as he dragged me backwards. Then he was pinning me to the floor.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he calmly told me, crazily calm. His hot breath tickled the back of my neck, making sweat droplets form on my skin.