Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

She was the most often specifically requested Kruna asset out of the 200 they had by patrons in the past 7 months, prior to that was the second most often requested for the previous 4 months. They had to hate giving her up. My uncle must’ve really pulled strings for her.

I reviewed the rest of the information and then closed it off and sat and seethed in my car, chain smoking for the next fifteen minutes before I could head up to my office. I was seething that they’d toyed with her to the point that they could grade her on pain.

I was seething because she had endured something for 19 days straight that was designed to break her, that she’d fought so hard to avoid being broken, and that she was now obviously utterly broken because they’d rated her well enough to trust her off the property.

That she’d gone from that determined to hold onto who she was before they made her into Felicia but then became so exalted as an illustration of Kruna perfection made me want to f*****g puke.

And I couldn’t comprehend that she had the insatiability I’d always wanted, that she was a s****l submissive who climaxed the hardest when restrained, and that she was mine, that she wanted to be mine. They gave me this information to optimize her use. They gave me information to keep her under my control.

She only wanted so badly to be mine because they had taken 19 days, more than quadruple of what broke the average Kruna slave, and once she was broken she was so utterly broken that they didn’t have to worry about sending her out in the world to be the slave of the nephew of one of their most important partners.

Was she a submissive who loved to f**k so much only because she was broken?

If I’d met the girl in Alaska with the piercings and the wild curls and mischief in her eyes would I have wanted her? Would she be so compatible?

Or, would she have had that spark, that wildness I loved and still been my Angel, been f*****g perfect in every way for me?

I was enraged. Enraged at them because they broke her and enraged at myself.

I stomped on the tablet and then walked with it and tossed it in a dumpster behind a nearby fast food joint.

How the f**k could I keep her? How the f**k could I not?

Angel’s POV

I was bored. Maybe that was a good sign. Was it a sign that I might be snapping out of it? I was itching to be outside.

Back at Kruna I was content when I was in my room or when I had free time with nothing to do. I didn’t get to watch TV and I hardly socialized but I was fine in my own company because it was a brief reprieve from the roles I was always playing.

There was a quiet courtyard zen garden area we could go to for fresh air and there were common rooms where we could read or talk with other girls. There were some board games, Mahjong tiles, a chess board. There was a gym. I generally spent time alone when I wasn’t on assignment. But my mindset had already begun to shift.

I didn’t feel like I was still Felicia but I didn’t feel like me, either. I just wanted to be Drake Clarke’s angel. But him asking me to be me was niggling at me, too.

Did I know how to be me?

I’d reorganized everything in his apartment, not that it was messy, and I didn’t go digging through his drawers or anything private but I’d washed and dusted everything so often it had become tedious.

He’d said I’d eventually be able to come and go. I wasn’t sure what I’d do out there but the idea of taking a walk, feeding ducks in the park, window shopping, people watching, going to the library… it all sounded good.

I wasn’t sure where he and I were, though.

He was back just a few hours after he’d left. And he was in a mood. He’d come in, jaw tight, eyes angry, body language rigid, pissed off. He threw his keys on the table by the door, roughly hit buttons on the alarm, walked past me with a chin lift and then slammed the door behind himself in the den. Slammed it hard. I’d been at the island, needlessly wiping it when he came in and now I didn’t know what to do with myself.

A few hours later he emerged from the den. I was watching TV. He grabbed his keys and hit buttons on the alarm panel and then headed out the door, barely looking at me. I watched him go without a word.

An hour later he was back, slamming the door, hitting alarm panel buttons, then heading into his den, again without speaking to me.

He hadn’t come out by 9:00 at night and so I made a PB&J sandwich and figured I’d might as well go to sleep. I didn’t know whether to sleep in his bed or not so I curled up on the sofa.

I didn’t want to disturb him in the office where my clothes were so I just got under the soft throw and put the TV on and I eventually drifted off to sleep.

I woke up to him carrying me. Again. My heart leapt forward like it’d done last night when he’d carried me to his bed.

If I got lucky enough to spend my life with this man I’d be tempted to fall asleep on purpose somewhere other than his bed every single night if it meant he’d carry me to bed like this every time.

It was so gallant, so dominant, so perfect.

I opened my eyes and looked at his face and he had what looked like a hard, stone cold look in his eyes when he looked at me. I didn’t know what to make of it.

But he didn’t attack me and yank my clothes off. He just put me under the blankets, undressed down to boxer briefs, and then climbed in with me and spooned me.

I was in yoga capris and a tank top so I guess they’d do for sleeping. I nuzzled in and pondered it for a minute but then dared to plant a k**s on his forearm, which was across my chest, his hand cupping my shoulder. His lips touched the back of my neck just above the collar and he squeezed me and then gently took the elastic out of my hair and twisted the length of my hair around and around his fist gently, sweetly. He played with my hair until I fell back to sleep snuggled against him.

Drake’s POV

I had a long chat with my brother on the webcam before I went to bed.

“What’s going on?” Azriel asked.

“With what?”

“With Felicia. Everything okay? You’ve been off the last few times we’ve talked.”

“I’m not calling her that. She had a bit of a meltdown and asked me not to.”

“Meltdown?”

“Yeah. f*****g meltdown mode myself over here.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning…shit…it’s gotten complicated. Really fuckin’ complicated.”

“Uh huh,” my brother had replied with a knowing look.

“What?”

“You f****d her; you like the girl.”

“F**k.” I had leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling.

“What’s the problem?”

“The problem? What about this isn’t a problem is more like it. Do I really want to take on a girl that’s broken? I didn’t wanna go there.”

“But you went there, anyway.”

“Yeah. She’s…f**k…she’s gorgeous and she’s submissive in bed and can’t get enough. She begs me for it.”

He let out a loud breath.

“She has nightmares, so I let her sleep with me.”

He moistened his lips and nodded.

“I called her Angel because she was trying to behave like an angel and because she has the face of one and now she’s decided that’s her new name.”

He winced and gave his head a scratch.

“Yeah, I know. She won’t take off the collar they put on her because it gives her nightmares to have it off. She says she needs it on so they’ll know she’s mine and not try to take her back. She’s begging me to keep her.”

He let out a slow breath, “So you f****d her and now you feel bad ‘cuz you don’t plan to keep her?”

“f****d her repeatedly, bro. Can’t seem to stop. It’s feeling like a relationship.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

He gave me a knowing look, “So, we change the plan,” he shrugged, “You wanna keep her, you keep her.”

“It’s wrong.”

“Yeah.”

“It feels right, though.”

“I know.” He gave me another knowing look.

“Uncle’ll be laughing his a*s off at me right now.”

“For sure,” Azriel said quietly. I saw Claire move in behind him and she waved.

“Hey,” I greeted.

She put a sandwich and a steaming mug down beside him and kissed him on the cheek. He’d caught her hand as she tried to walk away and yanked her back until she landed in his lap and planted a k**s on her mouth.

She blushed at him, gave him a look of promise, making me feel like I was a f*****g peeping Tom on the honeymooners. I cleared my throat.

He took her h**s and lifted her away and gave her a*s a swat. She left the room. His eyes came back to the screen.

I rubbed my eyes. I’d had a f**k of a day putting out fires and s**t.

“So, what if as she gets well in her head, finds who she used to be again, and she doesn’t want this?” I muttered.

“Or what if she falls for you and does?”

“Do I really want someone broken? We grew up with a broken mother, man, you remember. Sometimes Angel seems like she’ll get past it. But I don’t know if what I’m seeing is her or who they made her into. And I dunno if she’ll get past it. I’m not even f*****g making sense here.”

“I get it.”

“What if her wanting me isn’t real, just a side-effect of her hero worship because I got her outta there and then it becomes obligation?”

“Make it good for her so she won’t want anything else.”

“I’d hate to put myself out there when it could go sour.”

“Better to have loved and lost and all that jazz, man…”

He was validating it, telling me to keep her. Telling me to take a risk. I figured he’d understand, of course he’d understand, but this wasn’t him just telling me to take what I wanted in a caveman, crime boss kind of way; this was him speaking to me from experience. His situation wasn’t the same but it was close enough to be highly relatable.

“Send me your counselor’s details, okay? I think it’d do her some good to talk to someone. I don’t know her backstory yet but I’m guessin’ therapy could be good.”

“Will do.”

“Is it helping you?”

He shrugged, “Still early days, man.”

“Yeah. Maybe we should all go. Get the Clarke family discount.” I rolled my eyes.

He rolled his, then asked, “You need me home, man? You’re dealing with a lot.”

“Naw, it’s all good. I thrive under pressure. You know me.”

“Yeah, I know you. I know that you’ll drown before you lower yourself to ask someone for a life preserver.”

I snickered, “Family trait.”

“Thinkin’ of coming back for a few weeks. While I’m there I can see about lightening your load. Maybe if I make a few appearances it’ll prevent red flags. You getting any bad vibes anywhere?”

“None. And it’s up to you, man. What do you think about goin’ to Thailand for that summit?”

He shook his head, “Dunno, bro. I am not bringing my girl there. No f*****g way. I’m also not comfortable leaving her behind. So, I don’t know yet. We’re dealing with a few things here, too, so a trip home might be good. We can talk when I get there.”

“Yeah? Everything alright?”

“Not really,” he shook his head, “I’ll fill you in later. We’ll see what happens in the next few days.”

“Zack and I are meeting day after tomorrow to chat. He’s been doing more digging.”

“Yeah; Clarke has practically become the guy’s full-time job.”

“He’s good, though. Been a real asset. Well, I’m gonna crash,” I said, “I’ll message you after I meet with him.”

“Sounds good, man. Go chase your angel’s nightmares away.” He gave me a smile. It looked heartfelt rather than teasing.