Chapter 8 Sold to the Don #3
I race up the stairs when I hear his office door open.
“Stella,” he calls out. I ignore him and go to the closet where I just put all of the clothes away and pull everything off, hangers and all.
When I turn, he is walking into the room.
His belt is undone, and he looks genuinely shocked.
He was trying to hide his whore from me.
He thought I would be preoccupied with the clothes long enough that he could get off.
It’s not like he didn’t have the chance to yesterday.
How fucking typical. Even when being held hostage, I’m still not good enough.
The reminder that I am mad that Marco, the man who kidnapped me, was fucking someone in his office makes me furious.
“Stella,” he says breathlessly. “Stop and talk to me, please.”
“No thanks,” I say with a sweet smile. I push past him with all the clothing in my arms.
“Where are you going?” he asks as he follows me. I ignore him and walk through the house. I stop by the utility room and grab lighter fluid before going to the back patio. “Stella. Stop it and talk to me, please. This is insane.”
“Oh, like you when you were hiding in your office to fuck someone then acting surprised?” I ask as I dump all the clothes onto the concrete. “Isn’t it insane that you’ll come in her, but not me? Crazy, considering I’m not allowed to leave. I’ll have to get my kicks somehow.”
He reaches out like he is going to grab me, but he stops when I glare at him. “Touch me and I’ll fucking set you on fire too,” I growl at him. He puts his hands up as if to surrender then steps back and watches as I open the bottle of lighter fluid and dump it all over the new clothing.
I pull the matches from my pocket and strike one on the box.
“I’ll make sure you regret fucking with my head, Marco,” I say as I toss the match on the clothes, causing the fire to flash across the pile.
"I’d keep an eye on that if I were you.” I toss the pack of matches into the fire before turning and walking back into the house.
He doesn’t follow me this time. When I go inside the whore is leaning again the kitchen counter smirking. “Jealous?” she asks.
“Of you?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t worry. I don’t want him or your church clothes.” I push past her and go to the front porch to sit.
By myself, I can think. My thoughts get interrupted when one of Marco’s men comes over to sit with me. His name is Anthony, I think.
“He in the doghouse already?” he asks.
“By in the doghouse, do you mean that whore?” I ask.
“Oh, shit. Did you catch him fucking Amber?” he asks, and I nod. “Is that why the backyard is on fire?”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “The bitch brought me church clothes and came in here dressed like a street walker just to get bent over his desk. It just pissed me off.”
“Because he’s not fucking you?” he asks.
“No, he just sits there and wants me to trust him but then he hides like a fucking coward,” I say. “Why is it that he gets to go fuck whoever he wants, but I can’t?”
“Did he say that?”
“Well... no. I figured it was a common courtesy to not fuck others when you are married and sleeping in the same bed with them. If he wanted his dick wet, he shouldn’t have forced me to marry him.”
“Find someone to fuck then,” he shrugs.
“Are you volunteering?” I ask and he smirks at me.
“He would kill me if I started it...but...”
“If I did... then you would be just following his wife's orders,” I say.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says as his eyes scan my body. I see the growing bulge in his pants, and I smile.
“So, if I instruct you to bend me over this banister and fuck me, would you have to follow those orders?” I ask as I stand and hold out my hand for him.
“I would,” he says as he takes my hand and stands up. He isn’t the best-looking man, but I’m pissed and want revenge. He has a dick and it’s visibly hard.
“Then get to it,” I smile. He smiles and steps close before turning me to face the banister before pulling my pants down my thighs.
He pushes his fingers inside of me first and I gasp when he hits a spot inside of me that makes my pussy clench around him.
“He’s missing out on some fine pussy.” Anthony pushes me to bend over the banister.
Anthony pulls a condom from his wallet and slips it on before slowly pushing his cock into me.
He stretches me slowly to accommodate his size, but I want relentlessness.
“Come on now. You can fuck me harder than that,” I say as I push back.
He chuckles and slams the rest of his length inside of me, taking my breath away.
“Such a tight little cunt,” he growls as he pulls out and slams into me again.
“Fuck. Yes. Just like that,” I groan. I meet his thrusts as I push my hips back and we are both moaning.
Him more so than me. I can feel my climax peaking when he groans and pushes deep as he comes.
I’m not even mad that I didn’t come because I know that Marco is standing in the doorway of the house watching.
I know he was watching the camera. I should feel bad, but I don’t.
Anthony pulls his condom off and tosses it in the trash beside the chairs before helping me with my pants. I turn and smile sweetly at Marco before patting Anthony on the chest. “Thanks. You follow orders well.”
“Let me know if you need anything else, ma’am,” he says with a wink.
“New clothes would be nice. Can I give you a list?” I ask.
“Yes, ma’am. Just be as specific as you can.”
“I’ll do it as an online order, so you just have to pick it up. That work?” I ask and he nods. “Have a good night.”
I turn to Marco, and he is glaring at me with his arms crossed. “Stella, can I talk to you in my office?” he asks.
“No, but you can go fuck yourself,” I say with feigned happiness. I flip him off and slip past him to go inside. I hear him behind me as I walk up to the bedroom.
“Go take a shower. You still have whore on you,” I say as I sit on the bed to take my shoes off.
He stands there for a second, seeing if I will break and look at him for some sort of apology.
I refuse. He wants to play games, let’s fucking play.
Marco goes to the closet and pulls out some clothing.
He walks over and sets one of his shirts beside me before going to the bathroom.
I think that’s his way of trying to call a truce with me, but I have other things in mind.
I take my clothes off and put on his shirt before I get in bed.
I sit here and listen to him shower, waiting for the right time.
When I hear the shower shut off, I slip out of my underwear.
I spread my legs and start rubbing my still-sensitive clit.
With precision and accuracy, I bring myself right to the edge and stay there until Marco walks out of the bathroom.
I can hardly tell he’s there as the build-up of my orgasm makes my thighs tremble.
I feel Marco move the blanket and sit at my feet to watch.
My climax finally peaks, and I buck my hips as I come.
When the buzzing in my ears stops, I open my eyes to see Marco watching me.
“You know your men suck just as much as you in bed?” I ask then giggle when he narrows his eyes. “Aw. Did that hurt your poor little man feelings?” I mock. That was a cunt thing to say. I shouldn’t have said that because the look of pain flashes in his eyes and it hurts.
“Stella,” he says with a much softer tone than I expected.
“Fuck off,” I say as I roll to my side and draw my knees up so that I’m in the fetal position. I don’t know why I lay like this, but I feel safer this way. I have always laid in a way that if someone hit me while I slept, they wouldn’t hit my abdomen.
“I’m getting so sick of you being a brat instead of just talking to me,” he says.
“I’m getting sick of your fucking voice,” I yell at him. “Leave me alone.”
Anger flashes in his eyes now and he abruptly stands and flips me to my belly.
I open my mouth to ask him to stop. He won’t understand the tears but when he smacks my ass, it’s like someone hit the eject button on my brain and my mind detaches from my body.
He smacks my ass again and the burn of his strike has me burying my face in my arms. No matter how hard I try to keep them from falling, tears well up in my eyes before dropping to the bed below.
I cry silently as he spanks me a few more times.
He’s not being aggressive, and any other woman would probably be halfway to coming by now but I’m trying hard to not let my thoughts go to the past. If I go back to the time in my life when I thought I was as good as dead, I’ll spiral.
Marco pulls my shirt up my back a little but freezes. I know why. Everyone has that reaction when they see my back. “Stella,” he says. “What the fuck are all of these scars from?”
When I don’t answer he sweeps my hair back to look at me. I try to turn away before he can see me crying, but he notices anyway. I don’t want him to blame himself. All he did was trigger the memory, but anything can do that. A specific smell can unlock the memories of my childhood.
“Fuck, Stella. I’m so sorry,” he says as he pulls me up.
When he sits beside me, he pulls me into his lap.
He hugs me tightly and I fall apart. I spiral hard and I can’t stop the sobs from ripping out of my throat.
He gently rocks me as he continues to apologize.
I can’t form the words to tell him it’s not his fault.
Slowly his comfort seeps in, and I calm down. When I can finally catch my breath, I sit up in his lap and wipe my face.
“Stella, I’m so sorry,” he says again.
“It’s not you,” I sniff. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Stella,” he says as he cups my chin and turns my face to his. “What are the scars from? Is that related?”