Escape From Paradise

“Good.”


He stood now, and stalked over to me, walking me backward until I hit the wall. He turned me around and ran a gentle hand over my ass. Then he turned me to face him and pulled out both of my ponytail holders. He shoved one of his hands deep into my loose hair and fisted it, forcing my face up to his.

“Who is your master, Angel?”

“You are,” I breathed.

Holding my hair tighter, his other hand cupped my sex and I moaned.

“You were jealous? Of a patron?”

I was too terrified to make a sound.

“Answer me!”

“Yes! I’m sorry, Master.”

“I’m not sure your punishment was enough. I think you enjoyed it too much.”

“No. No, Master. Please.”

“Did you come for him? This man you broke my rule for? Eh?”

“No!”

His fingers worked me in a fast circle, pressing upward with hard pressure.

“Come for me now, Angel, if you want to spare yourself.”

His anger frightened me and excited me, because he rarely displayed his full power over me. I embraced that excitement and leftover lust, and focused on the contrast of his rough hand against my softness. I came hard, bucking into his hand, still feeling the effects of Mr. Douglas inside my ass as my muscles clenched. But I wasn’t allowed to imagine him right now. Marco made sure of that. He kept his face close to mine, forcing my eyes to stay on him as he milked my body for every tremor until I finally stilled.

“Never disobey me again, Angel.”

“Never again, Master.”

“Never allow your emotions to get in the way of my rules and your role.”

“I won’t, Master. I swear.

He kissed my forehead and released me to leave.





Colin sent Angela away unsatisfied, just as Marco had requested. It had gutted him. Colin disliked Marco before, but now he hated that manipulative bastard with a murderous intensity.

He knew it’d be dangerous to try and fake it, but after being told she was terrified of anal sex, it tore at his fucking heart. And taking her by force? Fuck that. However, what he’d seen in Angela’s eyes when she’d thrown back the sheet was not what he’d expected at all. For a second she’d looked like a little vixen, daring him to fuck her, and that deep, dark part of himself connected with that naughty girl—wanted to say to her, “Thank you, I think I will.”

Marco hadn’t forced him. Nobody had forced Colin. He could have fought Luis for his weapon when he’d shown up, grabbed the girl, and made a run for it, guns blazing.

And then end up dead, along with Angela.

No, he’d had to take her up on her silent dare at that point. And for whatever reason, she’d wanted him to give it to her. He couldn’t deny he’d wanted that as well. What made him hate Marco was that he instinctually felt the man knew things. It’s like he saw into Colin’s soul and wound his dirty finger around his darkest threads, tugging those lude desires forward.

Almost like Marco was training Colin to be like himself. The master he wanted to be, deep down. To have power and control over a delicate piece of flesh like Angela—to use her however he wanted, whenever he wanted…

Fuck, man, get ahold of your bloody thoughts, he scolded himself.

An image of his brother Graham flitted into his mind. The true image of slavery. Graham had been an outward visualization of how slavery rotted a person’s central being. Everything at the villa was gorgeous, but underneath Angela’s healthy demeanor, was she as broken as Graham?

Colin felt like he was suffocating. He needed to move—breathe fresh air. He stood and dressed, then headed from his room to wander the estate. It was time to formalize a plan to escape from this paradise. He couldn’t stand to be there a minute more. Voices filtered down the hall from the direction of the dining area, but Colin wasn’t feeling sociable.

He went out to the veranda and lit a cigarette, surveying the entire area with care. Two boats were docked at the end of the steps. Colin was running different scenarios through his mind when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned his head to see Marco approaching, one of his henchmen watching them from the rounded doorway.

Marco stopped a few feet away with his hands behind his back.

“And how did it go, Se?or?”

As if you don’t know, Colin thought.

“It went well, I think.” Yeah, Colin was not in the mood for small talk. He was in the mood for face punching.

“Good. Very good. I spoke to her and she was appropriately contrite.” Marco joined him at the stone wall, and they stood together staring out at the magnificent sea. “You seem lost in your thoughts this evening. That is understandable, considering all of your new experiences this week.”

Colin gave a slow nod. “It has been a week of firsts, that’s for certain.”

An idea had begun to form. What he needed was to get Marco alone, away from the villa. It was time to work this man.

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