Escape From Paradise (28 page)

So grateful.

I’d stopped wondering what it was about this man that made me so crazy. I’d stopped trying to fight all the insane feelings I had, and gave myself permission to just fucking let go and enjoy it. Every second. He could be gone tomorrow, but for now, he was with me. And now that I’d finally let go of my thoughts I was able to enjoy not just this unconventional closeness with him, but also what he was doing to me. The feel of his hand meeting my skin.

Spanking me.

Smack
.

Another holler rang from my throat, turning into a moan, because damn it…every time he hit me, the plug would sort of vibrate inside of me. It was pressing against sensitive places. I was getting wet from being beaten.

The idea was enough to make me laugh. Until the fourteenth
smack
sang against my sensitized cheek. The fifteenth was the hardest yet, and I yelled from the sheer pain as my eyes stung with tears I refused to shed.

Sixteen and seventeen came in quick, simultaneous strikes. He was so hard against my hip. I rubbed myself shamelessly against him now, caught between pain and a build up to pleasure. He groaned, and the sound reverberated through me, stilling me. I think maybe I pissed him off or something because the last three smacks rained down hard, right in the middle of my ass above the plug. I threw back my head and yelled from the shocking, blissful pain of it, and then I collapsed over his thigh, my head falling to my joined hands, breathing hard.

My ass was absolutely on fire. My crotch was wet and throbbing. My eyes burned. My head was a messy fog.

And then I felt his fingers at the plug, slowly twisting it. I moaned, too spent to move yet. My breathing quickened when he began to gently pull and the thick part popped out. The rest slid out easily and he tossed it to the floor. In my peripheral I could see him looking at my ass. He could probably see my swollen pussy, as well. What would he think of me? I felt suddenly ashamed, like I shouldn’t have been turned on.

“Fuck me,” he whispered in that low voice. “You are so wet.” He sounded amazed, in a good way. Relief chased away my shame. I was glad he noticed, and I hoped he’d take care of me like he always did. But his hand never ventured down there. Instead, they focused solely on my ass.

“On the bed,” he said, lifting my hips to help me. I crawled up. Mr. Douglas stripped himself of his clothes, and once again I was struck hard at the overall sight of him.

He pulled back the heavy comforter and lifted the sheet for me to climb under. His face looked tense. I didn’t know him well enough to read him, but I swore I saw something like worry there. Sudden fear jolted through me. He wanted to keep a sheet over us.

Somehow, I just knew he wasn’t going to fuck me. He wouldn’t force me to have anal sex. The thought should have made me happy, but it didn’t. Not at all. It made me panic.

After today, I knew without a doubt I’d be expected to do this on a regular basis. That meant whatever disgusting douchebag wanted to bang my ass next would actually end up being my first.

Ah, hell no. If anyone was going to be my first, it would be Mr. Douglas.

I reached for the sheet in his hand and threw it back alongside the comforter at the bottom of the bed. Mr. Douglas’s shocked look was almost comical…until it suddenly wasn’t. Because now he looked just plain angry, and it scared me. The thing was, he knew that I knew what he’d been trying to do. He knew that I was attempting to thwart his plan not to fuck me.

He knew I wanted him.

I shrunk back with my bound hands in my lap, lowering my eyes in shame and fear.

“Lo siento, Señor…” I mumbled to him that I was hot, but that if he wanted the sheet I would pull it back up. I braced myself for a smack to the face, the common punishment for doing something that displeased a patron, but it never came.

Instead he said something completely unexpected.

“To start, I want you on top.”

A thrill shot through me as he sat against the headboard and motioned me toward him. His face was not happy. Again, I couldn’t read him, but I knew instinctually that he didn’t want this. You’d never know it from the size of his rock hard cock. But his manhood and his face were telling conflicting stories.

Still, I scooted forward until I was close enough to swing a leg over his lap. Nerves began to set in. This was really happening. He grabbed lube from the bedside table and put it on himself. He was beautiful to watch, even with that pinched expression that looked like he could punch a hole through the wall at any minute.

Or fuck a woman really hard.

He reached around me to rub lube around the bud of my anus and my ass cheeks. I closed my eyes as he pushed two fingers in, circling them, trying to gently stretch me. It didn’t hurt too bad after having the plug in. When he pulled his fingers out I opened my eyes. Our faces were close and our eyes met. His expression softened and he lifted my hips, pulling me nearer. I came up on my knees and positioned myself over top of him. He held himself at the base. I let the sides of my bound hands rest against his chest, wishing I was untied so I could hold his shoulders.

My heart rate rocketed when I felt the head of his penis at my entrance. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. The butt plug only stung a little. But the second he gave my hips a tug downward over the head of his cock I screamed.

Oh, my God! It hurt so bad. How did people do this? He was
way
bigger than the plug. I closed my eyes, feeling scared now and breathing too hard.

“Shh.” Colin was holding my hips tightly. I opened my eyes and found him watching me. In those blue depths I thought I saw an understanding. He wasn’t going to force himself in. Maybe that’s why he’d chosen for me to be on top. So I could control the pace.

I pushed myself down a tiny bit further and cried out again, panting. Every millimeter felt like a fucking inch. But I found that my body adjusted quickly, the pain waning into a comfortable throb. On my next downward push his head slid into my ass with a
snap
and we both moaned.

“Christ alive, woman, that is fucking tight.” His eyebrows were knit together.

I pushed a little more. Slowly, very slowly, I worked my way down until his entire cock was in my ass, impaling me in the most painfully delicious way possible. I sat on the base of him, and as my body adjusted, the heat returned. I lifted myself and the sensation of sliding up his shaft was like nothing I’d ever experienced. It was as if I could feel every tiny ounce of his hardness against the tight ring of my ass. Nerve endings that had never had the pleasure of being rubbed were massaged by his thick length inside me.

I was wet all over again, and desperate to really ride him. Mr. Douglas stilled my hips when I tried to move against him. He slipped a hand behind my neck and pulled my face to his, kissing me hard and deep. I kissed him back, overcome by it all. Then he broke away, his eyes boring into me.

“Little Angel…” he breathed. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

My heart about stopped.

All at once I was crying out as he lifted me off him and flipped me onto my hands and knees, positioning himself behind me. He thrust his entire cock into my ass, making me scream with the pleasure and pain of our rejoined bodies. It hurt in the best way. Then he proceeded to pound me, growling words in his Scottish accent that didn’t even sound like English, but I made out a lot of “fucks.” I could hardly keep myself upright from the force of his thrusts. Oh, God, it felt so good. I never expected this to feel like this. I was so close to coming. If he were to touch my clit even the slightest bit I’d see stars.

But he never touched me. When my arms began to give out, he pushed my head down to the bed to rest on my hands. Moments later his groaning lowered and he grasped my hips harder, pushing as deep as he could.

“Ah, fuck yes, lassie, that’s it…” He stilled, his hands tightening on me, and I knew he was about to come as his words stretched into a low, primal rumble from the back of his throat. I moaned at the glorious feeling of his orgasm inside me. I could feel every pump of him.

When he was done he slowly pulled out and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. We were both out of breath, damp with sweat. My body tingled with a need that verged on painful. I waited for him to turn to me, touch me. But he didn’t.

Staring at the wall, he said in a deadened voice, “You may go.”

For one second I was stunned. Then I got my act together and silently climbed from the bed. It took all my willpower not to look back as I went to the door. Shit, I couldn’t even walk right after all that’d just happened.

I’d been a fool to think he was anything more than an average patron wanting to use me. I’d never been used quite so well. Or left feeling quite so dirty.

Luis was waiting for me in the hall. I was surprised when he led me toward the hallway with the video monitoring room. He opened the door and ushered me inside. Marco was sitting alone at the monitor, running a hand over his mustache with a contemplative look. I raised my eyes to the screen he watched. Mr. Douglas was laying naked on his bed with a forearm across his eyes. Without looking at me, Marco spoke in Spanish.

“Was your punishment satisfactory?”

What kind of question was that? One I could only answer in one way.

“Yes, Master.”

“Are you in pain?”

My ass cheeks stung like hell and my asshole was thrumming from its beating.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good.”

He stood now, and stalked over to me, walking me backward until I hit the wall. He turned me around and ran a gentle hand over my ass. Then he turned me to face him and pulled out both of my ponytail holders. He shoved one of his hands deep into my loose hair and fisted it, forcing my face up to his.

“Who is your master, Angel?”

“You are,” I breathed.

Holding my hair tighter, his other hand cupped my sex and I moaned.

“You were jealous? Of a patron?”

I was too terrified to make a sound.

“Answer me!”

“Yes! I’m sorry, Master.”

“I’m not sure your punishment was enough. I think you enjoyed it too much.”

“No. No, Master. Please.”

“Did you come for him? This man you broke my rule for? Eh?”

“No!”

His fingers worked me in a fast circle, pressing upward with hard pressure.

“Come for me now, Angel, if you want to spare yourself.”

His anger frightened me and excited me, because he rarely displayed his full power over me. I embraced that excitement and leftover lust, and focused on the contrast of his rough hand against my softness. I came hard, bucking into his hand, still feeling the effects of Mr. Douglas inside my ass as my muscles clenched. But I wasn’t allowed to imagine him right now. Marco made sure of that. He kept his face close to mine, forcing my eyes to stay on him as he milked my body for every tremor until I finally stilled.

“Never disobey me again, Angel.”

“Never again, Master.”

“Never allow your emotions to get in the way of my rules and your role.”

“I won’t, Master. I swear.

He kissed my forehead and released me to leave.

Colin sent Angela away unsatisfied, just as Marco had requested. It had gutted him. Colin disliked Marco before, but now he hated that manipulative bastard with a murderous intensity.

He knew it’d be dangerous to try and fake it, but after being told she was terrified of anal sex, it tore at his fucking heart. And taking her by force? Fuck that. However, what he’d seen in Angela’s eyes when she’d thrown back the sheet was not what he’d expected at all. For a second she’d looked like a little vixen, daring him to fuck her, and that deep, dark part of himself connected with that naughty girl—wanted to say to her, “Thank you, I think I will.”

Marco hadn’t forced him. Nobody had forced Colin. He could have fought Luis for his weapon when he’d shown up, grabbed the girl, and made a run for it, guns blazing.

And then end up dead, along with Angela.

No, he’d had to take her up on her silent dare at that point. And for whatever reason, she’d wanted him to give it to her. He couldn’t deny he’d wanted that as well. What made him hate Marco was that he instinctually felt the man knew things. It’s like he saw into Colin’s soul and wound his dirty finger around his darkest threads, tugging those lude desires forward.

Almost like Marco was training Colin to be like himself. The master he wanted to be, deep down. To have power and control over a delicate piece of flesh like Angela—to use her however he wanted, whenever he wanted…

Fuck, man, get ahold of your bloody thoughts
, he scolded himself.

An image of his brother Graham flitted into his mind. The true image of slavery. Graham had been an outward visualization of how slavery rotted a person’s central being. Everything at the villa was gorgeous, but underneath Angela’s healthy demeanor, was she as broken as Graham?

Colin felt like he was suffocating. He needed to move—breathe fresh air. He stood and dressed, then headed from his room to wander the estate. It was time to formalize a plan to escape from this paradise. He couldn’t stand to be there a minute more. Voices filtered down the hall from the direction of the dining area, but Colin wasn’t feeling sociable.