28. Ariella
Chapter 28
Ariella
O n the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me eight maids a milking.
I never understood the maid’s milking line. What exactly were they milking? One would assume cows, but there are plenty of other animals that can be milked.
“Ari,” Nero says, drawing my attention back to him. He was getting quick at catching me before my brain drove me onto another dimension.
“We’re almost there,” he nods to the window.
Today is the day of my staged engagement. The day I will announce to the world that I am no longer on the market. I haven’t seen or heard from Preston since I saw him behind the dumpster bin in the alley of Verdis.
The lie I told him about falling ill seems to have sufficed. I feel less guilty about how often Nero and I are having sex when I can only imagine how often my husband-to-be was engaging in his own extracurricular activities.
Activities that I’m sure would continue through our marriage until one day I’d get lucky enough that one of the women would out him to the world while a dozen more followed in her place. Then I’d be free of my family duties, and then, well, I’m not sure what would happen then.
There’s a part of me that fantasizes about reuniting with Nero. I imagine our lives as a cinematic movie where I search the end of the earth because he’s my one true love. Delusional much?
I return to the song in my head. Eight maids a-milking, seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying, five golden rings. Eww. Rings . I need a different song if I’m going to distract myself from all things Preston Cuevas and love.
One true love is shit from fairy tales. My vagina throbbing over a man who makes me cum multiple times should not be confused with love. It’s just that thing he said, you know?
“I can go with you after you’re married, get a job with the security team at the Cuevas mansion.”
That’s the part that has my feelings all over the place. It’s an annoying game of push and pull.
I look out the window to find a crowd of people lining up outside the capitol. Any privacy I had before has now died completely. Reporters stand outside like hungry vultures.
Being an influencer already gave people a glimpse into the life I projected and wanted the world to see, but this was something different. Marrying into the Cuevas family gave the world full access to me.
As we get closer, I see a large crowd of protestors chanting. One sign in particular catches my attention.
KEEP RAPIST OUT OF CONGRESS
The limo moves quickly before I can make out all the signs or the protestors. I know little about Preston’s role in politics. The word politics in itself made me queasy.
“Barbie has entered the building,” Jasper says into the headset before Louie stops the limo and the door flies open.
Jasper walks in front of me while Nero places a hand on my back and ushers me forward. Reporters flood the entire capitol and blurt out questions. I keep my eyes on Jasper, following him through the crowd.
The media outlets had gushed over my retro outfit choices, so I used that as my advantage in this world. Today’s outfit was a sleeveless pink plaid dress that stopped mid-thigh. White knee-high boots matched the dress’s white collar and tie. I added a pink headscarf as an ode to the iconic Marilyn Monroe.
My wardrobe was expanding. Preston sent me a black AmEx card with a note that said, “Keep capturing the media.”
Since we went public with our relationship, the polls have quickly shifted in his favor. Things have also turned in my favor. I have new brand deals covering everything from workout wear to dog accessories. Soon, I will be able to afford my own studio.
Fostering a fake enamored smile, I meet the son of Satan making his way to me down the capitol steps. The crowd goes wild when Preston pulls me in and kisses me on the cheek. Threading my fingers through his with my left hand, I use my right hand to wave at the bystanders as we move through the crowd.
We take the assigned seats behind a podium when we reach the top of the capitol steps. Preston introduces me to the couples surrounding us. I keep a tight smile and shake everyone’s hand. We greet a younger woman. I’m guessing, like me, she’s in her early twenties. The man next to her looks much older. A hefty man with a cane.
“Scott Paxton, this is Ariella Reyes,” Preston says. I place my hand in Scott’s, and he squeezes it tightly.
“Welcome to the shit show,” Scott whispers before releasing his grip.
Scott Paxton is the first to take to the podium when the campaign begins. I quickly find out he’s running for Criminal Appeal court judge. I sit through his entire speech about why he is the one for this position and how he’s going to make Texas Great Again before I zone out.
I look out into the crowd and see Nero standing by the steps, his back to me as he scans the crowd. Catching myself gazing a little too long, I revert my eyes to my hand resting in Preston’s.
I go through the motions of what I assume is the behavior expected from me. I look at the woman who was seated next to Judge Paxton. She’s definitely out of the man’s league, but I can tell by the designer dress and shoes that he provides something for her in return. Who was I to judge?
I mimic her behavior- sitting up straight, my legs crossed, a tight smile, and a light three-finger tap into my palm after each speech.
This goes on and on until I’ve sung the Twelve Days of Christmas around twenty times in my head. Finally, Preston takes the podium. Despite my desire to check on Nero, I focus adoringly on Preston.
“Before we begin, I’d like to say, doesn’t this woman look absolutely stunning?” he outstretches a hand to me, and the crowd cheers. I smile and wave as Preston calms the crowd down.
“Don’t be shy, Ariella. Come say hi to these kind people.” He says into the mic.
For a brief moment, I can see the infatuation with him. His light brown eyes were charming and kind. Confidence oozed from him. Truthfully, I looked good next to him.
We looked good together. Why should I judge him from the one time I saw him behind a dumpster? Hell, I might have even been slightly turned on by it. Maybe in time, we could satiate each other’s dark desires.
Walking to the podium, I stand next to Preston. He drops to his knee, holding the mic in one hand, as he reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a ring.
I gasp the most actress-worthy gasp I can muster up. Bringing my hands to cover my mouth before dropping them to my heart, I sell the surprised engagement look. This better be captured on the front cover of every Texas newspaper.
“Ariella, would you do me and these fine people the honor of becoming the next great councilman of Texas’s wife?” he looks up adoringly. Our improv is impressive. The crowd eats it up, screaming and hollering.
He slides on a large 18k white gold Bellagio ring, and I stare at the diamond. I ignore the feeling curdling in my stomach and the weighted stare I can feel from the steps below. Focusing on the performance, I shake my head yes and wipe away the fake tears.
The crowd cheers. Preston threads his fingers in mine and lifts our joined hands in the air. We face the crowd and cameras who are capturing the moment. A familiar face catches my eye in the crowd.
It’s the cop talking with Nero at the bottom of the steps. I blink to make sure I’m not seeing things, but it’s him. Officer Greyson, the piece of shit who groped Genesis and me when Cassiel kidnapped us. I’m forced to look away when the crowd’s loud cheering is replaced with screams.
Two shots fire from out of nowhere. One hits the podium, while the other hits Scott Paxon in the head. I scream as Preston pushes me in front of him. Using my body as a shield before running off behind me.
My feet feel like they are nailed to the ground below me. Blood splatters all over my white boots. Scott Paxton’s lifeless body is only inches away from me. Suddenly, a hard body crashes into mine.
His woodsy smell hits my nose first, and I close my eyes in relief. The chaos continues around us, but Nero pulls me tightly into him. I look up to see Jasper guarding him with his gun out in front of him.
“Let’s go!” Nero yells to Jasper before lifting me off the ground and rushing down the steps.
We run until Louie appears at the back of the building. Nero pushes me inside. Swarms of cop cars race past us as we flee in the opposite direction.
“What the fuck was that?” Louie shouts from behind the window.
“Looks like someone isn’t too fond of the Councilman,” Jasper states the obvious, his brows furrowing as he looks at the blood on my white boots.
Nero moves in closer to me.
“Are you hurt?” he asks.
When I flinch at his hand reaching towards me, his eyes fill with concern.
“How do you know Officer Greyson?” I stutter, moving to the other end of the limo.
“I don’t know him. I just met him today. How do you know him?” he asks.
Adrenaline courses through me. I try my best to read into his answer, but the only conclusion I come to is that he’s telling the truth.
“That. That guy. He-”
“Did he hurt you?” Nero asks, moving towards me.
His concerned stare drifts from my face over my body and to the blood streaking over my boots. He pulls the boots off, throwing them to the other end of the limo.
My heart beats outside my chest, and I need to feel the warmth of his body. Climbing into his lap, I wrap my arms around him, desperate to melt into his embrace. Letting the beat of his heart calm me before I take a deep breath.
“The night Cassiel kidnapped us, he sent that cop. He said he had to search us, but then he just sort of felt us up.” I think back on the memory of that day.
“Is this necessary?” I ask.
“I can’t risk one of you mamacitas shooting me, now, can I?” he says in a thick Texan accent. I cringe at the nickname.
He pushes my head into the car. I tense the moment his hands touch me. My body freezes the way it did all those years ago. I close my eyes and try to picture myself anywhere but here. He starts by patting me down as one would in a regular procedure. I try to focus on the sound of cars driving past us. His hands move to my front, over my thin cotton tank top, and he reaches into my shirt. Bile rises in my throat as he fondles me.
I close my eyes. I drown out the moans falling from his mouth. I count the seconds. Count my breaths, desperate to block out his touch. I stay there like that while he continues to assault me, cupping me from outside my jeans. When I finally feel the absence of him, I open my eyes to see him grabbing Genesis. I stare at her lost expression. The tears streaming down her face mirror mine. We’ve been here before. It is a traumatic bond we never wanted to share. Secrets we never spoke of. We were crying then, and we are crying now.
Nero’s hands tighten around me as I tell him what happened. It feels almost freeing to speak about it. As a woman, it was always a challenge to come forward as a victim of sexual assault.
There was this fear that what happened to you would be considered insufficient. Unrelatable because who was I to cry about fondling when other women were subjected to worse?
My Tia Ponciana’s words would surface about my clothing choice, or my inner critic would point out my depraved sexual taste. Like those reasonings excused someone from taking advantage of my body.
Get over it . The inner critic repeats, but I can’t. The thought of that day still had me clawing at my insides.
“He’ll pay for that,” Nero whispers into my ear.
“Do you know who took me that night?” I ask into his chest. Rough hands glide over my hair as I cling to him.
“No.”
I stare down at the ring on my finger for what seems like an eternity before I drop my hand back into the water when I see Nero approaching the bathroom door.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.”
“I fed Guapo and took him outside.” He says, explaining his short absence after placing me in the tub.
As soon as Louie got us back to the hotel, Nero carried me to the penthouse. He stripped me and ran the bath, where I’ve been sitting for the last 15 minutes contemplating my entire life.
Nero lowers himself to the side of the tub, and his eyes drift over me for the hundredth time since we left the Capitol.
“Do you need anything?” he asks, running a knuckle over my cheek.
“You,” I whisper the truth.
I needed him right now, not a ‘It’s going to be okay’ or ‘This will all work out in the end’ speech.
No. I wanted him. I wanted the feel of his body on mine, the mental escape from his touch, and the emotional release he brought out from inside me.
He lifts himself from his haunches and stands to his full height. He had already stripped the suit jacket and shirt, leaving only a white tank top, the suit pants, and a black belt. Veins protrude from his muscular forearms, sending me into a frenzy. His body was beautiful. He was beautiful.
Keeping his dark eyes on me, he unbuckles his belt and removes his slacks. I can see his erection through the fabric of his briefs and watch with anticipation. His briefs fall to the floor, and I suck in a breath at the full eight inches of him. Precum leaks from his engorged head, making my mouth water.
I smile when he lowers himself into the tub. It’s a victory anytime I can get this man to do what I ask. He sits on the opposite side of me, and the distance is too much. I stretch my legs out and slide my foot up his inner thigh. He arches a brow at me when my foot finds his erection.
“Is this a new kink you’re trying to explore, Princess?” he asks as I massage the hard erection with my foot.
I give him a flirtatious smile and shrug.
I always made it a challenge to see how fast I could make him cum. Sure, he could pull a thousand orgasms out of me effortlessly, but watching him orgasm was my favorite. It gave me this sense of power that I craved when my name fell from his lips.
“Why don’t we explore your kinks?” I offer, continuing to rub my foot against his cock.
He sucks in a breath. His hand latches onto my foot before he grinds himself into my foot. I stretch the other leg until my toes find his balls and massage them.
“Right there, Princess.”
He holds onto my ankle, his head falling back as he grinds himself into my touch.
“Fuck Ari.” He groans before pulling me toward him by my ankle.
“You want to take care of this, Maniká?” He sits me down on his lap, where his crown grazes my entrance.
With my back to his chest, he pushes my wet hair over my shoulders and whispers.
“I don’t think you want me to play with you the way I want to.”
“Play with me,” I beg.
“I can’t be gentle, Ari.” He peppers kisses down my neck.
“Then don’t be,” I say, annoyed.
It was the same thing he always told me. Like he had to hold back for fear of breaking me.
I want to be broken.
“I’m telling you, Ari-”
“I know what you’re telling me, Nero. Like everyone else, you think you know what’s best for me. You think you can somehow shelter me, and I don’t want to be sheltered. You think I’m fragile, but maybe I want you to break me,” I challenge him.
My hands grab his and place them over my aching breasts. He squeezes them hard. Pleasure course through my body, craving that mix of pleasure and pain. There was something addicting about the way he pulled both from my body.
“Please, Sir. Break me.” I beg.
“Pick a word.” He says. My brows furrow as I think of something.
“Pick a safe word, Ari.” He repeats his patience, running thin. A safe – oh ya- thee safe word.
“Church,” I say awkwardly. Both hands roughly squeeze my breasts as I grind my ass into him.
“If you don’t like something, I need you to say that, Ari. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Always, Sir.”
My answer is enough permission for him. Picking up my hips, he lowers me onto him. His dick pierces through me, and I cry out when it stretches my insides.
He stands, pushing my body to the other end of the tub, bending me over the tile. He pulls out to the crown before slamming back into me. His rough hands grip tight around my waist. Water splashes around us with every animalistic thrust. Each one is more brutal than the last.
Jesus
Splash
Fucking
Splash
Christ
Splash
Water spills over the side of the tub. He lifts my hips higher and places his foot on the tub’s edge. The position is giving him deeper access, and it hurts so good. He fucks me hard. My body loosens, and the orgasm hits as I cry out his name.
“That’s it, Ari. You’re such a slut for my cock.” He continues to slam into me while my body rides the wave of my orgasm.
He switches positions, pushing my upper body over the edge of the tub. With my tits pressed against the elevated tile, I lay my head down, my ass in the air, and my arms stretched out in front of me.
I hear the slap first then I feel pain ripple over my ass. My body jolts, and I whimper when the pain is quickly replaced with kisses over the stinging area.
Nero kisses down my ass cheek before his mouth finds my pussy. He sucks my clit into his mouth, licking up my arousal. Another orgasm builds, ready to wreak its havoc on the horizon.
When I feel his tongue move up higher, I flinch.
Did he just lick my- oh my god.
“Say the word if you want me to stop.” I shake my head.
God no.
“Last chance before I eat this ass.” His hand runs over the fullness of my ass before he sends another sharp slap.
“Use your big girl words, Ari.”
“Don’t stop.” I grit out, desperate for him to replace the pain with pleasure.
He kisses down my lower back until he returns to his previous position. He spreads my cheeks, then runs his tongue over my back hole. The sensational feeling masks any awkward feelings I had about the act, and my pussy throbs as the pleasure courses through me.
Three of his fingers slide into my pussy as he eats away at my ass. The second orgasm crashes through my body, my pussy clenching down around his fingers.
“God.” I cry out.
When he turns me around to my back, I look up and see the Godlike man above me. There’s a hunger in his eyes. Desperation builds even after the two orgasms. Lifting my leg to his hip, he pushes inside me and pauses for a moment. He grinds against me. It’s slow and calculated. I palm his face, desperate to indulge in the moment’s intimacy.
His strokes are long and deep. Our bodies grind into each other with perfect precision. It’s only a moment before he returns to his carnal state.
Moving me like a ragdoll with effortless force. He fucks me hard switching positions. His stamina is unmatched. Orgasm after orgasm washes over me with every new position.
He keeps fucking me and switching positions. Fucking me- from the side, bouncing me off his cock as he sits on the edge of the tub, pulling me onto all fours. Every time I think I can’t take anymore, but body begs me to keep him there.
Inside me.
Fucking me.
Owning me.
I feel another quick sting to my ass before he grabs my hair and slams his cock into me. He has me back on all fours.
“Please.” I cry out as he yanks my hair in his fist.
I meet his every thrust, my body trembling from the surge of adrenaline. My pussy is greedy for another release.
“He won’t fuck you like this. You’re pussy will still beg for me while he’s inside you.” Nero growls.
My breathing is shallow as I take in all his frustration.
“You may be his future wife, but you’ll always be my whore.”
He crashes into me one last time as the final orgasm swallows me whole. My mouth opens, but my words are incoherent as our orgasms meet.
His cum fills me as my own warmth leaks from me. And just like that, the hell I’m living in ceases to exist. I’m back where I feel safe. A temporary place of refuge. A place where I knew his words were absolute. I’d always be his whore.