Page 2 of Cavern of Silence
I make new drinks and take them to the back of the private plane where Jonas and his new girlfriend are. She looks barely eighteen, and I wonder how she fell into Jonas's grasp. The light in her eyes tells me she's high on coke, just like Jonas is, but she acts like she wants to be here.
Unlike Zoe Diego, who only touched him if he demanded it, this girl is all over him. I set the drinks down and debate about asking him if he needs anything else. The girl is unzipping his pants and on her knees, and my insides quiver that I'm going to not do the right thing.
There will be consequences if you screw up again.
As confident as I can, I put on my false smile and say, "Mr. Torres, would you like anything else?"
A sinister smile forms on his face, and his head swivels toward me. With one hand, he fists the girl's hair and pushes her on his cock, which is now out of his pants.
I swallow the bile rising in my throat.
"Turn around."
Oh God. What is he going to do to me now?
I turn and step away from him.
He barks, "I didn't say move away from me."
With shaky knees, I move in front of him. The men in the seats across from him lick their lips and check me out. More bile rises, and it takes everything I have not to throw up.
"Take off your shirt."
Oh God. Is he going to rape me?
I've never put it past Jonas, but he's never sexually forced himself on me. At least not yet. But I'm always scared he will.
"Wh-what?"
"You heard me. Take it off," he growls.
I close my eyes and slowly remove my sweater and unbutton my shirt. The men in front of me turn so they aren't missing any of my shame.
"Take your bra off."
My gut twists tighter, and I obey. One of the men in front of me moves to the edge of his seat. He licks his lips, staring at my naked chest.
When Jonas's fingers trace theJandThe branded on my shoulders, I get chills and can't control the tremors that roll through my body. "You didn't forget I owned you, did you?"
I blink hard, but the tears escape. "No."
Stop looking at me,I want to scream to the men who are enjoying how uncomfortable Jonas is making me. Instead, I say nothing as they snicker.
Jonas doesn't remove his fingers and continues tracing the six-inch initials on my skin while his girlfriend goes down on him.
"Say, 'you own me, Mr. Torres.'"
My voice is raspy as I repeat what he wants.
"Keep saying it," he growls.
I continue to say it. The entire blow job, he makes me repeat it while sliding his fingers over my flesh and grunting. When he finally orgasms, he slaps my ass so hard it stings, and I go flying into the men watching.
They shout and fondle me, and I rise as quickly as I can and run to the front of the plane, grasping my clothes on the way and crying.
I lock the bathroom door and break down sobbing. I tell myself to pull it together. The more weakness I show, the worse it will be for me. Jonas wants to break me.
He already has.
