Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

He went from looking like he wanted to inflict pain on me to letting out a sigh and pulling me into an embrace. I tried to pull back, to struggle, but he was too strong so I eventually went limp. I didn’t hold him back but I did start to feel a lump in my throat and then a little bit like I was going to melt into him. He let go before I fell apart and got on the bike. I got on behind him and fastened my hands around his waist loosely. He revved it up and then we were off so fast that I had no choice but to hold on tighter. I figured he did that on purpose.

The drive was good for my rage, I think. I settled down a bit. My mind was still plagued with thoughts of my Dad’s betrayal and I felt it in my gut but didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to let it fully register that my father sold me out.

Riding on the back of a motorcycle with someone felt so subservient. Azriel was in control, just like he’d be if we were in the jeep or a car or whatever but we were out in the open and I had to give in, give him control, hold onto him, lean against his body, despite not wanting to. It felt weird but I analyzed it all the way back. This way of driving was

so

him.

We pulled back onto the farm and he drove right up to the barn, stopped, and stepped on the kickstand. I got off the bike and he took my hand after unlocking then opening the doors. Instead of back to the jeep, he led me into one of the stalls where a narrow staircase led up to the second floor of the barn.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“We’re spending the night,” he answered.

Up there the hayloft had been transformed into an apartment. It wasn’t fancy but it was spacious and furnished. There was a double bed, a couch, a kitchenette, small round white Formica table with two chairs, and I spotted a bathroom. I wandered in to wash my face and scrub some soap on my mosquito bites to see if it’d help take the itch out.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

When I came out of the bathroom, Azriel was climbing back up from below with a large cooler and slung over his shoulder was a picnic basket, “Nita packed us a picnic for tonight. Are you hungry yet?”

I shook my head. I wanted to ask him about this place and why we were up here instead of in the farmhouse but I was still broody. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to be trapped here with him. I couldn’t even begin to process my feelings about what he’d said about my Dad back there, not to mention what he’d said about how he felt about me. I knew that I’d lashed out because of that but I also knew that almost everything I’d said was true. He had done all those things to me. He was responsible for all of it because he’d laid a claim on me from the start, playing with me like I was a toy.

But I wasn’t being honest about the acting. I

had

started warming up to him. But I was also confused about those feelings, too. Did I have Stockholm syndrome? Was I just a stupid little girl falling for my crush despite who he really was because of Mexico?

I wasn’t sure how to walk the fine walk on eggshells with him. I wasn’t sure how to proceed at living in a world where you could be shot at any moment, in your own home, in your own bed, while you were having s*x with someone.

And I’d thought about the fact that if I hadn’t leaned over at that exact moment to k**s him a bullet might’ve hit me. So did that mean embracing this relationship was the right thing? That it was what would save me from losing my life and maybe my mind?

Maybe I’d let him closer to me in the last few days because he’d rescued me from a fate worse than him and because of how I’d crushed on him when I first saw him. And because of the things he did to my body. I was so frustrated right now. I just wanted time alone to think, to process. But that wasn’t an option here in a hayloft in the middle of nowhere with him. He wasn’t easy to ignore.

“Why are we here, really?” I asked finally, sitting on the plush rust-colored three-seater sofa that had definitely seen better days.

He lay on the bed and crooked his finger at me, beckoning. I shook my head.

He let out a sigh, “I wanted us to get away from things for a day, have time alone. No one knows about this place. It’s mine, my safe house. We’ve all got them. No one knows about them so we’ve all got a single location no one can find out about. I’ve never brought anyone here but I wanted to show it to you.” He got up and walked the length of the hayloft to the back doors and opened them wide. It was just a set of doors that I guess was for farm equipment to pull up to and lift hay bales inside so it opened up to a straight drop. Straight ahead, though, was a huge field of wildflowers and a large pond, “When it gets dark the sky is beautiful here. Amazing sunsets. Clear and starry. I thought you’d like it.”

“You brought me here to seduce me,” I muttered.