Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

Damn it; I hadn’t thought this through. He quirked his eyebrows up, clearly aware I was trying to escape yet again as he was probably taking in my disheveled appearance and probably frantic look.

This place was gated all the way around, by the looks of it. The guy stepped away from the car and headed in my direction. I couldn’t see how I’d get out with the property being gated.

I certainly didn’t want to piss this big burly, scary guy off who was nearing me by the second so I put my head down, turned around, and headed back into the house.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

When I closed the door I leaned against it, breathless. I stood there for a minute, my mind racing.

What could I do? I needed to get out of here. Should I find a phone now and call the police? But considering Azriel’s wealth and status, he probably had the police in his back pocket.

I stood there for I don’t know how long, my hands over my ears, and not knowing what to do and then he was coming down the stairs, holding his phone to his ear and wearing just a towel.

He passed me and then was pushing buttons on a panel on the wall by the door. The alarm’s screeching halted. He looked at me with what looked like an amused look on his face, “Thanks. Yep, got it under control.” He ended his call.

“Looks like you tripped the alarm on your way out for a stroll, huh? Nice outfit.” He stopped in front of me. I was sure I was quite the sight barefoot in his track pants, which I could’ve swum in, and a way-too-big men’s t-shirt with no bra underneath.

Where the heck was my bra? I’d gone to sleep with it on last night. I covered my chest with my arms and blew my hair out of my face.

“Why don’t you go get a shower and I’ll have my housekeeper get some breakfast together for us?” By housekeeper, I was sure he meant the mystical little lady, Rosita.

I gave a little nod, wide-eyed and started to head for the stairs. As I passed him he caught me by my upper arm and leaned in, “Don’t try that again,” his grip tightened painfully.

“You get a pass because you pleased me so well this morning. But try that again, you won’t be able to sit down for a week.” There wasn’t a trace of humor in his eyes; his expression shook me right to the core.

I swallowed hard. This man was beautiful outside but obviously hideously ugly on the inside.

He smirked like he’d read my mind and let go of my arm. I went upstairs and took a shower. I scrubbed myself for at least 20 minutes, almost frantically. I tried to wash him away but I could swear I still smelled the s*x on myself.

When I came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, I noticed clothes on the end of the bed, which had been made. There was a stack of ladies’ t-shirts and tank tops, a pile of several new pairs of underwear with the tags still on, yoga pants, a pair of capris yoga pants, and a pair of denim shorts.

I got dressed and sat on the bed and combed my hair with the small hairbrush I’d found in one of the drawers. Thankfully the tank had a built-in bra. Not ideal on its own for a bigger chest like mine but better than nothing.

Someone knocked and then opened the door.

“Oh good, they all fit.” Rosita’s grey head popped through the door as she stepped in.

She startled me and her kindness was sort of disarming. She reached out and shook my hand.

“Thank you.” I managed to say.

“I know it’s all unconventional,” she whispered, her eyes crinkling up into a small smile, “but I’m so happy to see him settling down. I’m here for you and at your service. Don’t hesitate to come to me for anything, okay? We must talk but we’ll do it later.” Her British-French accent still sounded strange to my ears and her tone was conspiratory. She winked at me.

I nodded slowly, not sure what to make of her. If she knew what kind of a man Azriel was and what kind of work he did which she obviously did as she’d told me yesterday that she’d practically brought him up so she must know exactly what kind of a conscience he had.

Even after knowing everything about him, if she was still willing to work for Mr. Clarke, she couldn’t be a good person. I couldn’t trust her. I wouldn’t trust her.

But given the conditions Azriel’s father had helped her in, any person would be very much grateful for what he did. But still that was no excuse to work for a murderous human being.

“Come; breakfast is waiting.”

I stood up. She linked arms with me like we were bosom buddies and led me downstairs, saying, “All those rooms are bedrooms. There are five and each has an adjoining bathroom. That has a door adjoining to the master suite through the walk-in closet.” She gave me a squeeze.

What the heck? She was being way more friendly today. I think I preferred the curt and rude version of her.

She led me through the big modern kitchen and then out some patio doors onto a patio area where Azriel was sitting, reading the newspaper with coffee in front of him.

He tucked his phone in his jeans pocket. He was dressed now, I guess he’d come back in while I showered. He was Mr. Casual today, dressed in a pair of button-fly faded jeans and a tight black t-shirt. His still damp hair was pushed back with his sunglasses. He was barefoot.

How could he be so attractive and yet be willing to trap a normal, average girl like me when he could have any runway model he liked? Or he was so ugly on the inside that no one cared how good he looked on the outside.

“Sit.” Rosita told me, “I’ll bring you coffee. Or tea? What do you prefer?”

“Um, coffee, please. Milk with 3 sugars.”

“Three? Oh, that’s bad.” She waved her hand dismissively, “I’ll wean you off.”

Azriel glanced up from his paper at me, “She’s a sugar hater. She weaned me off a few months ago. Didn’t tell me until 2 weeks after I’d been drinking it with no sugar.”

“Sugar is evil!” she replied, waving her finger at him. He rolled his eyes at her.

I sat across the table from him. He was smiling, staring at the paper with what looked like not a care in the world. No, no cares. He had a prisoner here and had tricked me into giving him s*x this morning by starting something when I was asleep and already sleeping on top of him, because that’s where he’d made me sleep, but now he didn’t have a care in the world. Too bad I didn’t have it as easy.

Rosita brought me a coffee. When I sipped it, it tasted sugary enough. She winked at me, “I gave you 3 today but bit by bit, I’ll cut back and then you won’t even miss it.”

How poetic. Azriel had promised me that I wouldn’t have my favorite vanilla after today and she was promising to wean me off sugar.

Obviously, by his statement and by the way he’d spanked me and pulled my hair, he was a kinky son of a b***h so vanilla s*x was off the menu. Would I soon stop missing my freedom and everything else I loved because I’d be weaned off? Would I ever stop missing vanilla ice cream?

Freedom was something I was missing already.

There was the illusion of freedom in front of me. The patio area was nice. Spanish themed, mosaic tiles, big infinity pool that overlooked a lush-looking forest. I wondered what the drop was like on the other side of the pool. Could I escape through the forest? I was in a big giant cell. A ginormous cell with an infinity pool and servants.

“Claire?” Azriel’s voice broke my daze.

My attention snapped to him. Rosita was putting a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit in front of me. Then she went back inside.

“I’m leaving. I’ve got work. You’ll behave?”

I think I nodded a little, I wasn’t even sure. I could hardly look at him, after what he’d just done to me upstairs. After how I’d participated. I knew my face was red, I could feel it. And I could feel his eyes on me.

I caught sight of his hand; it was covered in scratches from our scuffle last night. He saw that I’d noticed and smiled devilishly at me and then touched his lips to mine. His tongue darted in and his arms pulled me closer.

I didn’t react, I didn’t respond. I guess I was in shock. He let go of me and then said, “Watch her.” I glanced behind him and the guy who’d seen me outside, ready to escape, the same guy who had a body more burlier than Arnold Schwarznegger was standing in the doorway.

I guess I had a babysitter now. Wasn’t Rosita enough of a nuisance already?

I robotically dropped back to sitting and stared at my plate. Rosita sat down with a cup of coffee in her hand.

“Shoo Earl!” she said to him, annoyed. Earl…. So that was his name. It sure suited him. A burly name for a burly guy.

He backed away. She sat down and put her coffee in front of herself, “He can go. Leave us girls to talk. Food not okay?”

“I—I uh, haven’t tried it.”

“Eat! I’ll keep you company,” she took a sip of her coffee, “Are you okay?”

I stared, dumbfounded at her, then finally answered, “Not really.”

“Tell. Tell me everything,” she leaned forward and propped her chin on her palm, her elbow on the table and stared at me with big brown doe eyes.

“Why the sudden curiosity?” I ask her, prejudice coating my voice but I couldn’t care less.

She continued, ignoring my question, “This family, they don’t play everything by the books. But they did a lot for me as I yesterday told you. There are a lot of people out there like them, don’t kid yourself. They don’t all get called by the same names but there are some very bad people out there disguised as good people and there are people who do bad things sometimes but are not bad, they do what they need to do. This family, what you see is what you get. They did good for me.”

I was just too surprised by her opening up to me about Azriel’s family yet again to react in any way.

She pointed her thumb at her chest , sighing.