Page 10 of Blinded By The Sun
King
I stare up at the guy I now know as Jones. He looks like he used to be a football quarterback, not just from his body size but his demeanor. He smiles like he owns shit and he knows he can get shit from that alone.
“Boss says you can wear his wife’s clothes.”
My eyes widen. “What?” I shriek. “Hell no, fuck that. I’m not going anywhere near her clothes. That’s weird. Do you have a t-shirt I can borrow or something?”
Jones’s cynical eyes glint with mischief. His glistening white smile looks perfect against his skin. He licks his lips, “Maybe boss will let me have you after he’s done. I’d let you wear all my clothes.”
“Jones!” His name is called by another male, Bobby. “You know the rules.” Bobby has that all-American boy smile, if the all-American boy was biracial. He unbuttons his black dress shirt slipping it off leaving him with a t-shirt and he hands it to me. “Put this on and come with me.”
I quickly scramble away from the bedsheets I’ve been covering myself with. I get into his shirt that covers the essential parts of me as much as they can, and I follow behind him. We reach a door that’s black like the rest of the house. The flooring is like black marble with white particles. It’s smooth under the soles of my feet and screamsI’m rich, bitch. The room that I slept in is simple. It’s huge but made for a guest. I haven’t really explored the entire house to know what it looks like, but the black design of it all works perfectly with the open spaces that I can spot. The sunlight hits from every angle and the sun panels in the ceiling appear as though they were created to brighten up the mood.
“Wait here,” Bobby instructs.
I don’t say anything, and I wait. Bobby comes back out of the room with a pair of black Versace boxers. “Thank you.” I say.
“Welcome. Are you hungry?” Bobby asks me.
The second he says that, my stomach growls. I clutch it and I look up at him, horrified. “I’m sorry.”
Bobby just chuckles. “It’s all right. Come on, the chef made some breakfast already. It’s in the kitchen.”
“Thank you,” I say, looking down at the ground.
“Hey, I’m not Boss, you can look me in the eye. Let me formally introduce myself, I’m Bobby and you are?”
I look up at him through my lashes. “I’m King.”
Bobby smiles. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” I try my hand at a smile, but I don’t really know if I’ve grasped it. I’ve never really smiled before.
* * *
The sun has gone down and Bobby tells me to go back to my room. I notice that there’s a tv in here; I haven’t watched tv in years. I sit on the floor with my ass on a pillow because it’s still throbbing and cross my legs. I grab one of the snacks Bobby put under my bed. I need a distraction from the pain that my ass is in.
I don’t know how long I’ve been watching whatever is on the tv or how deeply invested I am, but I don’t hear Ciro come in until he’s lifting me up by the collar of the dress shirt. I drop the popcorn to the floor as I’m lifted on my feet. My eyes are wide as they connect with his, and then I remember by looking back down. “You must not know my rules, so I’ll let you slip up once.”
“The rules, sir?”
“Yes. When I’m fucking you, I’m fucking you. Not my men or anyone else but me. You’re my piece of ass, am I understood?”
“Yes, sir.” I’m so confused right now, but I answer so he can let me go.
I’m on the tip of my toes at this point with the way he’s pulling me towards him. I’m not that tall and he’s huge. Ciro grabs my ass hard and I flinch, the pain of the slaps coming back hard. I shut my eyes and tears flood behind my lids. “This punishment didn’t hurt enough that you’d fuck Jones?”
I pop my eyes open and look up at him. The tears come of their own accord. “I didn’t do that. I wouldn’t do that.” I cry out.
“Oh yeah? Whose shirt is this? And the boxers?” He asks, his voice sounding dangerous as hell, and my body reacts in a way I didn’t think was possible.
“Bobby gave it to me. He went into a room and came out with the boxers, sir.”
Ciro lifts the dress shirt and looks over at the boxers. He says nothing for a beat and then his eyes land on mine. “Take everything off and lay on your stomach.”
“Yes, sir.” I say. He lets me go and I do as I’m told.
Once I’m lying flat on the bed, he goes over to a drawer pulling things out. “Watch the show you were watching.” He directs.
