Page 47 of Shame

I pull my being deeper into that other place inside, trying to distance myself from what I must do.

“When?” I ask. My voice is so desolate, so broken, even I flinch hearing it. Then it strikes me. “Oh my God! Lucas! It’ll kill him!”

“That’s good news at least. Someone else is picking you up.”

I sag with relief. “Please, never mention I went there. I don’t know what he’ll do if I come back in the… in the same state as before.”

“It’s tonight, and you have my word, dear. I won’t tell him.”

“I need to go get ready,” I say, my voice lacking all life.

It turns out Ivan is tonight’s driver. He paces the front yard, a cigarette in his hand. The night is lukewarm and the air heady with flowery scents.

“Miss Moreno.” He tosses the butt and crushes it under his sole, then he holds open the back door for me. This is a normal car, a Mercedes. Leather seats and a luxurious feel to it, but no limo. I’m happy for the new set-up. It’s different. Maybe more will be different?

Ivan doesn’t say a word to me during the whole ride, but it’s okay. I’m really not in a talking mood. It feels as if I’m in a bubble, every noise distorted, the colors faded. This is the third time I’m forced to go here. It will be the last. If he ever demands me again, I’ll kill myself. This is a fact. It doesn’t even make me sad, thinking it. I can’t keep living like this.

The house is quiet. The office is empty. Ivan motions for me to follow, and on wobbly legs I trail behind him through room after room. From far off in the wing we’re walking through comes voices and music. The sound increases with every step. I swallow hard and stop. The bar. Images of me lying on that counter, cum showering me from all directions flashes through my mind.

“Miss Moreno?”

“I can’t,” I whisper and stare pleadingly at the tall Russian. Please take me away!

“Walk, or I’ll carry you.”

I can’t move, it’s as if my feet are frozen to the floor. Ivan sighs and hoists me up over his shoulder. All hope leaves me in that moment, raw despair claiming every corner of my soul.

The chatter grows quiet as we enter the room. I can’t see what’s happening and all they see of me is a good portion of my panty-less butt, my short dress having been pushed up as he carried me. The room spins as he sets me down, steadying me by my elbow when I sway. I glance around me and find that I’m standing by one of the leather couches at the center of the room. Next to me are a pair of suit-clad thighs, ending in well-polished black shoes. My heart rate skyrockets when I realize whose legs those are.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Carmen

A hand circles my wrist in a vice grip.

“Carmen,” says his smooth voice, treacherously sweet. “Come sit on my lap, dear.” He grips my hips and pulls me to him, my back to his chest, and drags me down so I straddle his lap, my pussy on clear display for everyone to see.

I still haven’t looked at him. The room is blurry, I can’t focus on any of the faces of the men around us. He pulls me close, embracing me, his body heat scorching my back. My heart is in my throat, pounding so hard I can barely breathe. Wrapped in the scent of his rich cologne, of cinnamon, and something earthy, I sit stiff, dizzy with fear.

“I was told,” he whispers in my ear, making me flinch, “I have been too rough. So I thought we’d play a different game tonight, young Carmen.”

He cups my breast with one hand, squeezing it, as his other hand strokes down along my stomach, past the hem of my dress, down to cup my pussy. I try to clench my legs together, but he parts his thighs, spreading me even wider.

“Mmm,” he growls. “So soft.” His fingers move expertly along my slit, making me squirm. I don’t care if he’s being careful. I loathe his whole existence. My spine crawls from his closeness and I almost wish he’d hit me instead.

A man joins us, sitting on the opposite couch, his eyes keep darting to my nakedness and to Salvatore’s fingers that thrust in me. The situation gets absurd as they begin to talk business as if I’m not even there. A man I remember from last time, the lanky blond, Eric, joins us as well, giving me a once-over, a flash of interest in his eyes before he turns to business too.

That’s when I see him. At the far end of the bar, clutching a beer, looking like he’ll shatter it in his hand. His blue eyes dark and tormented.

Oh my God.

Now I know why Lucas didn’t pick me up. Now I know Salvatore’s game for the night.

I shake my head, holding Lucas’ gaze, pleading with him to stay calm. I told him, over and over, that as long as he’s with Salvatore he’ll never be in control.

The devil must have noticed our interaction, because his thrusting picks up pace, gets cruel. He pulls down the front of my dress and frees one of my heavy breasts. He pinches my nipple, and I don’t know why I’m so sensitive all of a sudden, but it makes me scream out.

Lucas stirs and I mouth a ‘no’ at him. He’ll get killed if he acts. Finally, he turns from me, his body stiff, rage oozing off him in heated waves that makes my heart ache. Salvatore elicits a lot more whimpers of pain from me that night as he holds one business meeting after the other. His cock grows hard against my ass as my pain turns the sick monster on. I wonder if he’ll fuck me in front of Lucas too. I wouldn’t be surprised. My chest fills with lead, heavy and cold. I’m not sure I can face Lucas again after tonight. I feel filthy like never before.

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