The lights dimmed and all of the slaves stood. A Spanish pop song with a rhythmic beat began and Colin felt his high cresting as the bodies began to move. When his gaze found Angela again, he couldn’t look away. She was no longer the soft, happy, innocent girl from the photographs and video. She was a woman now, with haunted eyes, and a sexy fucking body. Acrid guilt spilled through him for thinking it, but he was a man with eyes, after all. And a cocaine high. He wanted to shake the dark thoughts away, but they clung.
Colin barely noticed when Marco inclined his head toward him, sending Angela dancing closer. She turned, moving perfectly with the beat, her gold-thonged arse close to his lap, and God help him. His cock sprung to life, pressing tight against the inside of his trousers from the sensuality overtaking the room.
Ah, fuck. This was the girl whose parents were helplessly searching for her. The girl he’d come to rescue from her captivity. He shouldn’t have had a bloody fucking erection for her. Hot shame flamed inside his chest, but for the life of him he couldn’t look away. He wanted to touch—to see if her skin was as smooth as it appeared, her hair as soft.
Blood whooshed inside his ears and he vaguely heard someone speak. Whatever Marco had said caused Angela to lower herself to her knees in front of Colin with her hands on his thighs, and for the first time their eyes collided. He felt as if hot irons were branding the inside of his flesh—heat spread through him. They both froze momentarily, staring.
Every curse word Colin had ever heard, and some made-up new ones tumbled end over end through his mind. He’d never been as stunned by anything as he was at that moment by the depths of her brown eyes, a well of sorrow and lost hope. And he swore her breath caught as she froze, captured by his gaze as well.
It’s because I’m a westerner, he thought. That had to be why she was looking at him like that. And he was turned on because he was high. Stupid fucking drugs. That’s all this was.
Then her hand slid up and squeezed his cock through his pants. Colin hissed, scooting lower in his seat.
“Yo cuidaré de ti,” she said in a sweet, seductive voice. He turned the phrase over in his mind, breaking it down until he realized what she’d said. I will care for you.
He didn’t stop her as she undid his belt and had his erection out in record time. Her small hand circled the base of him, but her fingers and thumb didn’t come close to meeting. Her pink tongue ran up the slit of his head, gathering his precome before her hot mouth surrounded him.
“Bloody fucking hell,” Colin whispered. His head fell back and he slunk lower. Then he raised his head again to watch her.
This was wrong. He should have tried to find a way out of it. She was doing this because she had to, not because she wanted to, and that made Colin want to kick his own self in the balls. But damn it all to hell…for the life of him he couldn’t bring himself to stop her. And what reason would he give Marco for denying the girl he’d already admitted was his fantasy?
He was doing this to save her. That’s what he’d tell himself. It was the sacrifice they’d both make for her freedom. He watched her, slipping his rough fingers into her hair, which did turn out to be just as soft as it appeared.
She’d been cute in the videos, however he’d never expected to have any desire to fuck her, or fuck her mouth, as it was. But cute wasn’t at all how he’d describe her now. As her head bobbed up and down, perfect suction, tongue teasing his flesh, one hand stroking his base while the other slipped up his shirt to feel his stomach… she looked up at him, fire in her eyes. He felt her nails dig lightly against his abs.
Shite. He wasn’t going to last long.
He grasped her chin and pushed her head slightly back, holding her mouth open as he grabbed ahold of his slick cock. A low, growl of a grunt came from him as he watched his load shoot into her mouth, spraying her tongue and back of her throat. She stuck out her tongue, catching it all until he was done, then swallowing. The moment he finished she licked the last drop from his tip and went into her kneeling position next to him, her hands on her thighs and head down.
And that’s when reality struck, ugly and foul.
He was in a room full of people, a few of whom were now clapping. For him. Because he’d just received the best blowjob of his life. From a slave. Who he was being paid to rescue.
Colin swallowed, wanting to vomit. He stood and inclined his head toward Marco, who looked rather smug.
“Thank you, Se?or. Exactly what I needed, that. I’ll continue working now, if you don’t mind.”
Before Marco could answer, Colin turned and headed for his room.
He should have played it cooler, but he was freaking the fuck out. In his room his hands shook as he frantically opened his paints, looking for one particular color.
Gold.
He propped the canvas against the wall and painted on his knees. Gold rounded the flowers. Gold crested the tips of the wind-whipped waves. Gold flecked the moon.
What had he done? He’d never been so furious with himself, but at the same time, her image was stuck in his mind, spreading its golden softness, and he couldn’t stop his hand.
She was fucking everywhere.