Chapter 1 #10
Kid rolls his eyes but leaves it at that, because Celia’s words make him want to squirm in a way that feels less and less like disgust, and more like…
butterflies in his stomach, or some girly crap like that.
He’d be lying if he didn’t admit to growing more curious about what his life could be like if he gave himself over to the life Celia and Felipe are offering.
“How did you, with Felipe, end up?” Kid stumbles through his Spanish. He can understand it much better than he can speak it, but his fluency is on the rise, much to his master and mistress’ delight.
33. Celia
Celia’s smile takes on a devilish quality. “He took me as a trophy after he destroyed my father. It put fear into the hearts of anyone who would dare oppose him. Fuck with Felipe Villanueva and he will murder you in your home and steal your daughter for his concubine. Quite effective.”
“Why does that make you smile? He killed your father! He took you prisoner!” Kid says caustically and full of reproach. Celia finds his anger ignorant and incendiary. She won’t tolerate it.
“You are prisoner too!” Celia snaps in English.
“Felipe takes what he believes he is owed and nothing more.
For years I begged him to kill my bastard of a father.
I offered myself to him as payment; he refused.
But little did I know he would deliver me vengeance one day and demand I make good on my promise.
“He had my father’s empire, but it wasn’t enough and I’ve been with him ever since. Do not presume to know our master. He has his own honor and we are lucky to have inspired his affections.” She glares at Kid, the insolent little brat.
Kid’s indignation wilts under the heat of Celia’s death stare. “I didn’t really get all that, but I get that Felipe sort of did you a favor. My bad; I don’t know the guy that well, except for the fact he’s always trying to fuck me.”
Celia laughs. “He is not.”
Kid balks. “Uh, yeah, he fucking is. He’s always talking about…well, you’re there—cheering him on.” The boy sneers. “You always take his side—always—and it’s not fair. I never have a say.”
Kid pouts and Celia’s stomach can’t help but flutter.
He’s utterly na?ve; it makes her long for her own long-lost innocence.
Felipe is devout and steadfast in his seduction, and she knows in her heart that one day she will surrender to his will.
He will own her, body, mind, and soul. She will keep fighting against it, but one day…
“Felipe save your life. He feel he own it. But your spirit, you have to give him. He wants you to give to him. He’ll seduce your body until it craves him.
He’ll worship you until you feel the intense desire to be worthy of such devotion.
You can only think of his happiness and the way it shines on you, makes you feel weak and invincible all at once.
” She wistfully looks toward the hidden camera in her room.
She knows Felipe will watch the playback. He always does.
“Yeah,” Kid says, “I get it. If he was going to do it, he would’ve by now.
That right?” His face tells Celia he isn’t finished speaking; he seems exasperated.
“I just…why’s he gotta try and make me ask for it.
It’s bullshit. I’m the prisoner. Why doesn’t he just take what he obviously wants and lemme be? ”
Celia knows well the turmoil Kid suffers; she’s felt it in one way or another for several years.
It is her deepest hope that one day she and Felipe will move on from the hardships of the past toward a fulfilling future.
Felipe’s intentions in gifting her with Kid as a companion are either a stepping stone toward that future, or a white flag.
“Would you like to hear a secret?” Celia adjusts herself onto her back so she can stare toward the camera.
“I’m not gonna get my ass kicked for knowing, am I? ‘Cause if so, I’d rather you didn’t tell me.”
Celia is charmed by Kid on a consistent basis. “You are silly.” She takes a deep breath. Her smile slowly drops. “Felipe and me…we don’t make sex.”
Kid props himself up on one elbow; his shock and incredulity is painted all over his face. “That’s bullshit. You had sex on top of me the first time I met you!” He apologizes quietly when Celia angrily clucks her tongue and shakes her head.
“Don’t interrupt. I meant to say we don’t…do it the natural way.” She places a hand between her legs for emphasis.
“You don’t let him fuck your pussy?” Kid looks doubtful and sputters on, “But that’s crazy! You’re his bitch.” He hisses a breath and rubs at the sting across his cheek.
Celia pops her knuckles by making a fist and then shakes out her hand. “Language, slave, or I will tell master on you. I am not a bitch!” She crosses her arms under her breasts.
“No, Celia, not like that.” Kid lowers himself to the mattress, holding his reddened cheek. “You’re not a bitch. A bitch is a girl—I mean—I—we—used to call girls that when they belonged to one of the guys. I’m sorry.” Kid stares up at her, contrite. “Please…don’t tell Felipe.”
“Okay,” Celia huffs, “but you don’t say anymore. I am a slave, but no one own me. I am not a bitch.” She turns her back on Kid and stares into the darkness of the room. It’s not often she allows her emotions to get the better of her, but Kid and his crass sincerity can be too much sometimes.
A single tentative finger touches Celia’s back. “Celia?” When she doesn’t rebuke him, Kid shifts closer, his palm delicately pressed against her spine. “Please, don’t be mad at me. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Truthfully, Celia is not angry. She fears the pinprick behind her eyes that signal the onset of tears—real tears—the ones she no longer allows.
She has often questioned her relationship with Felipe, the love she has for him…
the lingering spite. She has been keeping a close watch on Kitten and her master Caleb since they arrived, and the similarities between their relationship and her own consume her as the weeks pass.
She can see the seed of love sprouting, growing, and it makes her ache; that, coupled with her new slave’s open heart, conspire to undo years of practiced contempt.
“My father was a powerful man.” Her voice is firm, steady, and devoid of emotion.
She cannot feel this anymore, to allow it would mean her father still lived.
“There was nothing he could not do and no one he could not have. His power was absolute. He took my mother from her family when she was only fourteen. She died giving birth to me.” Celia keeps her eyes firmly on the wall at the other side of the room, but she allows her young lover to nestle in close behind her.
Kid craves affection like she once craved freedom.
She does not deny him if she can help it, and right at this moment, their needs coincide.
“He kept me instead of sending me to the orphanage. I think he even loved me in his own way; he doted on me. I had the best tutors, wore the finest dresses; I had my own servants. But my father’s attentions came at a steep price.
“I grew up beautiful…like my mother, he said, the first time he took me. I was twelve, and he was not gentle with me.”
“Celia…” Kid pulls her into his body with a despondent sound. “No,” he says, like he can erase the past by simply willing it. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers.
An old pain ripples through Celia. Her lover is genuine and kind…
sincere. He is nothing like her and Felipe, who trust no one and place their pride above even each other.
She swallows thickly, and moments later, goes numb.
“No sorry. It was long time ago. Do not pity me—it’s for the weak.
I’m only telling you so you understand your place. ”
“Yes, Celia,” Kid replies carefully.
“Felipe worked for my father back then; first as my bodyguard, and then many other things as the years passed.
Felipe saw how things were. He was not blind to my suffering at the hands of my father.
He helped me get rid of the evidence of my first abortion, and the second.
He watched over me during the weeks after I turned sixteen and learned I could never have children.
“He watched as I grew up cruel. I liked to whip my servants. I slept with my father’s friends and his enemies just to provoke my father into killing them.
They saw. They all saw and they did nothing.
Felipe saw too, and I hated him most of all, because I knew he pitied me, but also that he desired me. It made me sick.
“I tried to seduce him many times over the years.
Felipe never touched me. He used to say it would be like kissing a venomous snake.
I had my father beat him bloody for saying such things to me.
Afterward, I insisted he kiss me and beg my forgiveness.
He smiled at me—the insolent man—smiled at me! He barely escaped with his life.
“Two years later, on the evening of my 20th birthday celebration, Felipe raided my father’s villa.
His men executed my father’s security team, his guests, even the few servants who had come to our aid.
” She chuckles. “He saved my father and me for last. I thought he would simply kill us. Instead, he asked how I would like my father murdered. I thought it was so romantic; I suppose I still do.”
Kid shivers. “You’re really scary sometimes, Celia. I don’t like it when you say things like that. You’re not like them, not a killer, no matter how tough you try to be. You’ve got a good heart; I can tell.” He speaks the words softly.
“You are a very sweet boy, Kid. Do you like being our slave?” She touches her index finger to his lips in a predatory fashion, satisfied with Kid’s angry blush. Imagine—a blond baby chick making friends with a sly fox; the boy should be embarrassed.
“Whatever,” he grouses. “So what happened? He killed your pops and the two of you rode off into the sunset together?”