Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

I felt stupid. Stupid and needy. Why did he even want me?

“Angel?”

“Kind of.”

“Why, baby?”

“That first time you carried me to bed I’d fantasized about that before it happened and then you did it. And it was beautiful. And then the next night I didn’t want to presume to climb into your bed and you did it again.

And the other times were just flukes most of the time but last night you felt distant and I wanted you to carry me, so you wouldn’t feel distant, and you didn’t and I…” I didn’t know how to finish.

“Thought we were havin’ problems? Thought I was pulling away?”

“The K-kruna stuff is so ugly, Drake. I started to wonder if you knew more, if you’d seen Jason’s tapes. If you knew how bad, how dirty I am.”

“What?”

“I’m tainted. I’m dirty. I’m too dirty for you.” Too needy, too broken.

“What the f**k? You can’t be serious.”

I sobbed.

“I haven’t watched any of Jason’s tapes. I wouldn’t ever watch them. Never. I’m not some sick f**k who gets off on watching people hurt you.

That motherfucker is whacked, baby. I wouldn’t ever watch them. And if someone tied me down and made me watch them it would not ever mean that I’d look at you as dirty. You’re not dirty, baby.”

“I am.”

“You’re not!” he said fiercely, “Tell me. Tell me all of it and you’ll know it won’t affect how I feel.”

“It will.”

“It won’t.”This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

“It has to.”

“Try me.”

“Fine. Wanna hear how they waterboarded me for hours with seawater? Do you know what torture waterboarding is? It meant I never wanted to be in water again. I panicked for months even in the shower, Drake.”

“Baby.”

I snapped.

“It’s torture, Drake. But that doesn’t make me dirty, that just makes me messed up in the head. Need to know the details of being locked in the dark with a rabid priapic monster for four days while he f****d me repeatedly in every hole, not feeding me, not giving me more than a few sips of water per day and the only other thing I had to drink was his c*m?”

His eyes were hard and he was working his jaw muscle.

“Wanna hear how I got my mouth washed out with piss for swearing at a trainer?”

“Okay, enough.”

“No. Not nearly enough. You didn’t really know what you were asking for but I’ll tell you what you need to know.

‘Cause you need to know how I got tortured for hours with vibrators tied to me in punishment for making myself come, how my a*s bled for two days after being double anal penetrated by two men.

Do you really wanna know about me being suspended upside down and hog tied while no less than a dozen men took turns f*****g my mouth? And don’t even get me started on Jason’s Uncle.

You want a play-by-play?”

“Stop.”

“No, I thought you wanted to know the truth, Drake. Does all that help you feel like you know me better? How about I tell you how I felt when they finally broke me by doing all sorts of horrendous things to me after over more than two weeks, almost three, and the final breaking straw was them showing me that they had my 15 year old sister hog tied in a cargo plane and in the photo frame were no less than seven naked p*****s surrounding my blindfolded child of a sister and they were about to take her virginity on camera and make me watch if I didn’t finally give in.

They were then going to bring her here and make me watch them do to her all the things they’d done to me and they threatened to tie a Hitachi between my legs so I’d have no choice but to come over and over while I watched them ruin her.

Now that you know that stuff, that stuff that only gives you the quick and dirty, only the highlights of things that were done to me while they were breaking me, tell me, Master…how filthy and tarnished am I to you now?

You can’t tell me you’d even think of making such a broken, dirty, ruined shell of a woman the mother of your babies. Right? Am I right?”

“Shut it. On your knees in front of me right f*****g now.” He was completely furious.

I wanted to ask, “What?” but I didn’t dare. I stared at him for a beat and the look on his face was scary. Crazy scary. He pointed to the floor, a scowl on his face.

“Now!” he yelled and I dropped to my knees in front of him and stared at his feet. My heart hammered hard in my chest.

He dropped to his knees too, surprising me. Then he spoke and he did it softly, “I do want to know everything. I want you to know everything, too. All my secrets. Believe me, I feel dirty sometimes, too, baby. But I want you to own me, too. So, here.”

He pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and spilled the contents on the rug between us.

It was a folded piece of paper and two ring boxes.

“Marriage license. Wedding rings. I was planning to do this with hearts and flowers and some romantic grand gesture but you need to know right here, right now that I’m all in, no matter what, Angel.”

I choked on a sob. He wasn’t done.

“Will you own me? Let me be yours, your husband? Will you be my wife, make babies with me, lay on my belly and let me feed you fried spaghetti while we watch sports?

Will you let me try to be what you need, whether that’s to be your Master, your equal, a bit of both, whatever helps you feel safe? I want everything you have to give me and that includes your truth so that I can help you through healing from it. Will you be what I need, too?

Sweet, beautiful, funny, submissive, wild? I want it all.”

I did a face plant into his chest and his arms came around me. I felt his fingers in my hair.

“You can heal, baby. You are resilient. I know you are. You’re all I want and all I need and that’s despite what they did to you. I look f*****g forward to watching more of that experience peel away. It’ll always be with you but it doesn’t have to cover you. I will do my f*****g best to be all you need. You, Angelica Elizabeth Macleod, my Angel, need to be the mother of my babies. No one else. You.

I want to keep seeing your spirit shine through, I want to have thousands of hours with your legs wrapped around me, I want redheaded or blond baby boys and girls that look like a perfect mix of me and you.

I want you, your sexy white lace, your cowboy hat, and everything in between. I want to make you feel safe, collar, no collar, whatever you want, whatever you need.”

He let go of me, reached to the floor, and then he opened a ring box and showed me a man’s platinum band with the inner inscription, “Owned by an Angel” with a tiny pair of engraved wings.

And then he showed me the other ring box’s contents, it had a big diamond ring and beside it was a blue sapphire crusted eternity band with three rows of gems. “I had a jeweler friend take apart that first collar and make that for you.

At first I never wanted to see it again but it’s part of our story, our truth, my baby.”

I choked on a sob, “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“I know we have a long road ahead for you to heal but I want to walk that road with you. I want to help you heal. I have all the patience in the world for that because you’re my end game, Angel. You’re it for me. Will you marry me?

Before you answer, I know you’re feeling broken. I know this probably goes against what any therapist would recommend, but you’re mine. I’m yours.

Marry me?”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. I would be the luckiest girl in the world to make a family with you. Do you know why?”

“Why?” He smiled at me.

“Not because you’re my Master. Not because you own me. But because when you took a wet pile of dirt and formed it into a castle in front of my very eyes it was then that I knew that you could build, with your hands, a place where I’d want to live for the rest of my life.

You did that. You brought a broken girl back to life. You took a wet pile of dirt and formed it into a castle for me, Drake. You did this with your bare hands.

With those hands you also took a broken girl and you glued her back together, too. I want to spend the rest of my life making your dreams come true. All of them.”

“I love you,” he said and then his lips touched mine as he slid the engagement ring on my finger.

Epilogue:

Angelica Elizabeth Clarke’s POV

We got married in a beautiful little church with his family around us. He wore a tux. He was beautiful. I wore a white strapless wedding gown and a veil and left my hair loose and curly.

He’d also bought me a new necklace for my birthday a few weeks before, which I wore on our wedding day. It was simple, white gold, and consisted of three chains with a pendant of two hearts linked together.

When he lifted my veil he fingered a curl and gave me a dazzling beautiful smile as he gently poked the side of my nose on the tiny diamond. I had put my nose piercing back in the night before.

Maybe after everything I’d been through I wasn’t Angie Macleod any longer but I was looking forward to being Angel Clarke.

Really really looking forward to it.