Vanessa
I wake with him stroking my back. I must have turned over some part in the night, and I guess he thought it gave him the right to touch me.
I never see Diego in the mornings, other than the day of the unfortunate shopping spree, so I'm assuming the man he was torturing is dead. I can't help but wonder if I've only witnessed a fraction of the anger and aggression he's capable of. I'm certain that Russian man experienced it in full, though I don't feel sympathy for him. He fucking deserved it.
The bed dips as he makes his way to the bathroom. I keep my eyes closed, attempting to control my breathing so he'll leave me alone. The sound of water running in the tub and his footsteps padding against the floor reaches my ears. Suddenly, he yanks the blanket from my body.
"Get up, Mascota," he demands, "you don't have to pretend to be asleep."
I peek up at him through my lashes and gape at the sight before me. He's completely naked, his intimidating cock standing at attention. I swallow hard, fighting the sudden, primal urge to reach out and touch it.
He stares down at me with those intense, blue eyes that seem to penetrate the depths of my soul, stealing my breath away.
"W-What's going on?" I ask, my voice a hesitant whisper. I slowly sit up while averting my eyes from his manhood, a mixture of lust and fear knotting in my belly. Is this another punishment for what I did yesterday? What is he even doing here? Shouldn't he be at his club, attending to his usual business of being a monster?
The room feels charged with tension, and I catch a glimpse of the morning light filtering through the curtains, casting a subdued glow on his features. His expression is unreadable, a mask that conceals whatever intentions he may have.
"I thought we should bathe before breakfast."
We???
Before I can process this, his maid, Kristina, comes in with a bottle of wine and a glass. She walks straight into the bathroom and comes back out a second later, her presence adding another unexpected twist to the morning. In the weeks I've been here, she never really speaks to me, just does her job and leaves.
"Anything else, Mr. Reyes?" she inquires in a professional manner, her voice steady and detached, as if she's used to seeing her boss walk around butt ass naked. Maybe she is, I'm sure he's fucked all his staff at least once. A heavy weight forms in my stomach, an unwelcome guest that feels like a boulder settling in. I shake my head, trying to shake away the gnawing envy. Why do I keep caring who he puts his dick in? It's truly none of my business...as long as he keeps that thing away from me.
He waves his hand dismissively. "Gracias, Kristina. That is all."
She bares her neck and disappears from the room. I stare after her, wondering why the hell he needed wine. Is he trying to get me drunk so he can take me how he wants?
I shiver at the mere thought. I know I was stupid to drink last night, that's the only explanation I can think of to justify anything that happened. I promise myself that I won't make that mistake again. The memory of his "punishment" haunts me, filling me with disgust and self-repulsion. What the hell was I thinking touching alcohol in the house of my captor when I know he's a beast just waiting for me to lower my guard?
Diego turns and saunters to the bathroom, his muscular ass cheeks flexing with each step. With a subtle, yet commanding gesture, he extends two fingers, beckoning for me to follow him. The air in the room seems to thicken as apprehension washes over me.
My legs tremble as I slide out of the bed and follow him to the bathroom. He abruptly stops and turns right in front of me. I step back, his raging erection way too close for comfort. Noticing my expression, he chuckles. The sound drips with both amusement and dominance. "My cock is nothing to fear, Mama. It will bring you pleasure once you let it."
I will never do that!
He continues as if my lack of response doesn't faze him, "I'm going to undress you."
I stare at him like it's the most absurd thing he's ever said. And he's said some weird ass shit. "W-What?" I squeak.
"I won't repeat myself. I know you heard me the first time."
His words hang in the air, a heavy silence settling between us. Panic tightens my chest, and my mind races to comprehend the audacity of his request. I glance around the room, searching for an escape, but the reality of my captivity wraps around me like a suffocating cloak.
I'm trapped.