Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

His eyes lit with something and he sneered. He looked severely pissed off.

“I’m sorry. I—”

“You take my bed. I’ll sleep out here. I’ll order a bed tomorrow for the den, move my desk out here, you can have that room.” I wasn’t about to argue with that hard expression and those angry eyes. I don’t think anyone would.

“Thank you for dinner and the movie. And, um, everything. You’ve been very kind. Kinder than you should have to be. Thank you.”

He gave me a little smile but it had pity written all over it.

“Goodnight,” I said.

He gave me a chin jerk but said nothing.

Drake’s POV

I woke up to shrill screaming in the pitch dark. It set my fight or flight instinct in motion big time and I reached to get between the bed and box spring for my piece but then I realized I wasn’t in bed, I was on the couch. I ran to the bedroom. She was flailing in my bed in a nightmare. I grabbed her.

“Felicia! Wake up!”

She was writhing in agony.

“Hey, it’s just a dream,” I pulled her up to sitting.

She started to sob and a flurry of words and whimpers came out, “Master, don’t let them get me.” She threw her arms over my shoulders and clung to my neck like her life depended on it.

“Shhh,” I laid down, taking her with me. Her head landed on my shoulder. I stroked her hair and she loosened her grip around my neck and fisted my t-shirt, “It’s gonna all be okay, babe. Settle down. I promise it’ll be okay. Okay?”

“Okay,” she whimpered and her breathing slowed down and I thought she was settling but then she said, “Make me yours, Master. Take me. Make me yours.”

I thought the ‘master’ ramblings were her asleep, still in the nightmare. I guess I’d been wrong.

“Baby, I’m not your Master,” I said, shaking my head.

“I want you to be,” she whispered, “I’ll be a good girl.” She squirmed into me, “Your good girl.”

For f**k sakes. I had goosebumps everywhere and all the b***d in my head rushed straight to my c**k.

Her grip loosened on my shirt and I quickly knew why. She slipped her hand into the waistband of my shorts and then she was gripping my c**k. f**k.

“Felicia.”

“Please don’t call me that,” she pleaded.

“What’s your real name?” I asked. She hadn’t let go of my c**k yet and f**k but I was hard. How could I not be?

She was quiet a minute and then said, “Please don’t make me tell you. I’m not allowed to.”

“Hands off.”

She shuddered, then her thumb stroked over the tip, “I can make you feel good.”

“I’m sure you could.” I grabbed her wrist and tried to pull. She gripped tighter. I didn’t wanna be rough with her. Wow.

So she was an obedient slave girl but she wouldn’t let go of my c**k? Just my luck.

“Let go.”

“Please, Drake?”

“I’m not taking advantage of you. Let go of it.”

“You’re not. I’m offering. I need it. I haven’t…” she didn’t finish.

“You’ve got some sorta hero worship, babe. I got you outta there and you’re developing some sense of obligation here. I don’t want that.”

“My hair is red and I love to f**k. That’s what you wanted, right? I love to f**k, Master. I really really do. I’d keep up with you, whatever you want, any way you want, I—” she squeezed, stroking upwards.

“Let go of my c**k, babe. Seriously.”

She took her hand away and moved off my chest but not far away, just beside me. She was quiet for a beat and then said, “You don’t want me?”

“I don’t.”

I could feel her shame. Her distress filled the room. This girl had been assessed and appraised for her s****l value and my telling her she had none to me? It had to hurt.

“Sweetheart, you’re beautiful. You are totally what I’d go for. But I won’t go there. Not takin’ advantage of you. Your head isn’t in the right place after all they did to you and yeah, a few months ago you beggin’ me like this, I would’ve. I would’ve f****d you in a heartbeat but where I’m at in my life right now, I can’t. Won’t.”

“Oh.”

“You okay? I’m gonna go back to the living room.”

“Can you stay?”

It was a mistake to keep getting in bed with her. I knew it. I told myself we were tired and it was a big bed and nothing was gonna happen but I knew it was a mistake.

“Keep your hands and your mouth to yourself, alright?”

“I will,” she whispered, “Thank you.”

“Let’s try to get some sleep.”

Felicia’s POV

“Don’t cry,” he said softly a few minutes later, “you’re gonna be okay.”

I wanted to believe that. I didn’t mean to make my crying obvious. I thought he’d fallen asleep.

“You don’t have to f**k to survive anymore.”

He sure hit the nail on the head.

“Could I have my collar back, Master?”

“What?” he spat. He sounded disgusted.

“My collar. If you put it back on me I’ll sleep better. I keep freaking out inside and if I have the collar on it’ll help me know they can’t take me back because I’m yours. In the dreams the collar gone is why they can get to me but…”

He stormed out. I felt my chin trembling.

A few minutes later I didn’t know if he had gone to the other room or not. I was driving him away, he’d get sick of my crap, he’d send me away. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and tried to get my heart to settle down, to push the panic away.

The collars at the club that were single strand were the collars for girls available to all patrons. Double-strand collars were slaves booked for the night to a specific patron or party. The triple strand collars were for girls who were owned. Mine looked more like a choker but it had the design of the collars, in essence. Any visitor knew by looking at a woman’s throat whether they could have her or not. It was always respected.

My throat had been covered with a different coded collar for the past month and a half, the black X advising that I was off limits, that I belonged to someone who had not yet claimed me. In the past I’d spent most of my time in single strand collars and plenty of time in double-strand collars. My first seven months there was spent with a double collar and it was often attached to a leash.

The minute Drake put that triple strand jeweled necklace on me at the resort it felt different. I’d been waiting for that moment for a long time. It was beautiful, it meant I was at Point C.

I really felt like it might send the nightmares away. I hadn’t had dreams in over a year, not since Mr. Frost died. I hadn’t dreamt until Drake Clarke strolled into that room in his tailored suit with his stormy blue eyes, his olive-toned skin, that beautiful body, but now the nightmares were back and they were absolutely horrific.

He was back. I could smell smoke and the outside on him so knew he’d gone out to the balcony. I heard a tinkling and he softly said, “Up; let me put this on. I don’t know that this is the right thing to do, baby, but if it chases the bad dreams away…” he let that hang.

A wave of relief washed over me. I lifted my hair as I sat up and he fastened the necklace for me. The feel of his fingers on the back of my neck, it was going to be my undoing. I let out a little whimper, “Thank you.” I closed my eyes and absorbed the feel of it and felt my body settle.

“May I speak?”

“Stop asking permission.”

“Can you, could you, um.. hold me? I’m not still asking for s*x, I just, I’m so f****d up…” I asked, knowing I was pushing him but I only hoped I wasn’t pushing him too far.

What I really wanted, needed, was for him to hold me down and take me but I knew that wasn’t an option. My scalp prickled.

I couldn’t believe I’d sworn again. I hadn’t cussed aloud, or barely even in my head, in almost 2 years, not unless I was instructed to, not since I had my mouth washed out with something disgusting as a punishment for telling a trainer to go f**k themselves.

“Come here,” he answered and the sound of his voice, those words, I felt them between my legs and deep in my chest. I rested my head on his chest and wrapped my arms around myself. He was warm and cozy and between being there with him and having his collar on my throat I allowed something that I hadn’t allowed in a long time. I allowed myself to hope and not just a little.

“Thank you,” I said, knowing in my soul he was different from the men I’d been acquainted with in the past 2 years. I’d have never made requests or been so bold otherwise. Bold me today was nothing like the bold me of 2 years ago but bold me of today was not exactly like Felicia of last week, either.

“Okay,” he answered. He put an arm around me and rested his palm on my shoulder. But he did it stiffly.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“You’re welcome,” he answered and gave a little squeeze and kissed my forehead. His body loosened then and his other arm came around me and it didn’t feel stiff or awkward any longer. It felt like that was just where I belonged. I fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Drake’s POV

This was not cool. Not cool at all. I didn’t know how to handle this s**t. One part of me thought I should start being a d**k to her so she’d get over her hero worship. But after what I could only imagine she’d been through I’d be a heartless prick to do that. But I didn’t wanna encourage this. Not a bit.

Why? Because it’d be so easy, so f*****g easy to take what she was offering. She was beautiful. She was ten times more beautiful than the red haired girl from grade eleven science class, the one that I let get away in favor of the wild child Debbie was. And the talk about the insatiable s****l appetite? My Uncle’s twisted notions about me having a girl trained to be perfect, being what I wanted spoke volumes, especially with a few things I’d found out about him at Kruna. I shook my head in disgust.

But the things she was offering? I was saying No but my c**k was f*****g pleading with me.

Felicia was asleep, curled up to me, her head on my chest, her leg draped over my thigh. She squirmed, jolting me out of my thoughts, and then she was squirming, no gyrating, right against me.

The hand that had been flat on my abs was now under my t-shirt, in a fist over my heart. She opened the fist slowly and her nails skated across a n****e as she flexed her hand and the sensation went straight to my c**k. Her nightgown had ridden up and she wasn’t wearing panties. Her naked p***y was against my thigh and she squirmed against me. I clenched my teeth but my c**k was rock hard. Her hand emerged from the neck hole of my t-shirt and her fingers wove into my hair.

I could whip my clothes off and f**k her brains out. She’d give it to me gladly. She’d been begging me for it. She’d spread wide and let me do her any which way I wanted.

She’d be game to any position, any s****l act.

She’d let me suspend her from the ceiling, she’d let me f**k her up the a*s, she’d let me do anything I wanted.

She’d give me babies, as many as I asked for. She’d be gorgeous on my arm at any family or business event. She’d make herself fit into my life.

I wouldn’t have to do the work. I wouldn’t have to go through the task of finding her, figuring out whether or not she was a psycho crazy b***h, figure out whether or not she sucked in bed, figure out whether or not we were compatible. Wouldn’t have to fall for her and then lay awake at night wondering whether or not she’d be faithful to me.

She’d been professionally trained to be the ultimate lay, to be compatible with her Master. She wouldn’t nag, she wouldn’t whine, she’d take any scrap I gave her. I could treat her like a princess and lavish her with everything her heart desired.

I could use her and abuse her if I wanted to, not that I would, but if I did stupid s**t or acted like a d**k I’d never have to worry she’d leave me for it. I could just take her.

She was mine. Here she was, in my bed, curled against me, willing to be mine. Wanting to wear a collar that was akin to wearing a wedding ring but even more permanent. She’d probably be missing the spark I wanted in a woman but I couldn’t expect everything now, could I? She’d never shred my heart. She’d never ask for more than I wanted to give.

Almost no one would fault me. Outside of the people at Kruna the only ones who knew were Stan, Azriel, and Zack.

Stan, I didn’t give a s**t about his opinion. He got paid to have no opinion.

Zack, I knew he’d look down his nose at me for it and yeah, he’d probably fault me.

But Azriel? Yeah, he’d tell me it was a bad idea. But he’d be a f*****g hypocrite because Uncle gave him a girl who didn’t even want him and yet he kept her. He got to keep his girl even if she was ill-gotten, given to him out of Uncle’s f****d up brand of revenge.

Why shouldn’t I keep Felicia?