Escape From Paradise

“Ah, well, let’s see. Believe it or not, I’ve never tied a woman up…”

A hint of a smile crested Marco’s lips and he nodded for Colin to go on.

“I like to be in control. To do anything I wish to a woman without complaint, and have her enjoy it as much as me. I’ve always held back when truly I want to push a woman to her limits of pain—see how far we can take it.” He took a breath and pushed himself to keep going. “I like to fuck outdoors where we might be seen. I love a good blowjob, especially if she swallows. I’m always up for anal sex, though most women aren’t, considering I don’t want a relationship. And, aye, most of all I love the smell and taste of a woman…and I’m happy when they’re keen to fuck me and then leave me the hell alone.”

Damn, he’d never put it all out there like that before. And his pants seemed to be tightening. Marco glanced down, then back up with a look of approval. Everything Colin had said had probably been tame in comparison with what some of the people came here wanted, but he’d been honest and passionate, which was all he could do.

Again, they both took a bite. Colin was thankful when the swelling between his legs began to go down.

“Any particular look you prefer?” Marco asked.

“I ken it’s hard to come by in these parts, but I prefer blondes.” Colin swore Marco’s eyes darkened a fraction, but he forged ahead. “I’ve enjoyed my time in Spain, and the women are gorgeous, but I admit I’m often homesick for light haired lassies.”

“That’s understandable,” Marco said. “And as far as body type?”

Colin shrugged. “Fit. Natural.”

Marco nodded. “I’ll see what I can do to find you a muse, Mr. Douglas. We do what we can here to turn fantasy into reality. I assure you everything that happens at my estate stays here, and I mean that with the utmost seriousness. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay and make yourself at home. My servant will show you to your room.”

“Thank you. Gracias.”

Both men stood and placed their napkins on the table. The small servant who’d taken his bags was standing nearby with his hands clasped. He nodded at Colin to follow.

The villa was immaculate down to the last detail of the light salsa music playing overhead. In his room he moved his sunglasses to the top of his head and stared at the four poster, tall King bed. It reminded him with a pang of the bedroom suit his parents shared. Except theirs hadn’t had cuffs attached by chain at various places of the headboard and posts. Colin had to wonder what kind of kinky fuckery took place in this room’s lifetime. If it weren’t for the villa’s unfortunate circumstances he could really get down with the idea.

He adjusted himself, feeling that familiar and unwelcome tightening in his boxer briefs again. To take his mind off it, he went to the windows and stretched the curtains wide, revealing a set of French doors. He opened them and stepped onto the columned balcony into the salted sea breeze. Colin closed his eyes and breathed.

He was in. Nearly a year and a half of undercover work had led to this one week. No doubt, this would be the most difficult assignment he’d ever been on. To get the girl from this stronghold, alive, would be no small feat. He’d have to play the unknown factors as they surfaced and come up with a detailed plan as the week progressed.

But one single thought plagued his mind. What would he have to do to keep up his charade here? After all the shite he’d seen—the dirty brothels and slave quarters around the world, and what his brother’d been through—Colin did not want to have sex with any slaves. The very idea of it set his teeth on edge. But his motto had always been to do as they do. When the drug dealers were sampling the goods to make sure it was pure, Colin sampled the shite with them. When they fought, he fought. When they got plastered in pubs and picked up manky women, he was right there, drinking slightly less, and doubling up on the condoms. He’d always done what he had to to gain the trust of the goons he was attempting to bag.

But this was different. He didn’t want to take advantage of people stuck in slavery. It felt wrong to his very core. Marco could put a fancy face on it, disguising his brothel as a paradise, but Colin saw it for what it was. He wanted to torch the place and kill every cunt bastard who thought entrapping humans was acceptable.

He had no idea if he’d be able to get out of having sex while at the villa, and he had to prepare his mind for the possibility of anything. So many hidden variables, the largest being how the fuck he’d be able to escape this stronghold with a piece of their human property?

If she was even here.



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