For Him: The Complete Series: A Dark Romance

by Marissa Farrar

  I could tell this was turning him on, his eyes hooded with lust, his breathing growing ragged. He applied a little more pressure, the ball of his palm hitting my clit beneath my panties. My core clenched, and I couldn’t help myself. I ground down onto his hand, feeling myself growing wet at his touch.

  He noted the movement, and a victorious smile spread across his face. “That’s right, Catalina. You’re almost eighteen now, and you’ve never been touched. I bet you’re begging for it, aren’t you? I bet you’re as desperate to ride my cock as I am to fuck you.”

  I wasn’t quite as untouched as he thought, but I had no intention of correcting him. Should I do something to him? I didn’t know. Did he want me to touch him in return? To get on my knees and suck him like I had Angel? I wanted to please him, but I felt utterly out of my depth. And still, in the back of my mind was Angel. I knew I shouldn’t feel guilty. After all, he was the one who’d brought me to this other man, but I couldn’t help it.

  I clenched my fists at my sides, standing there as he rubbed me over the top of my underwear. A familiar sensation built inside me.

  Torres pulled my panties to one side, his fingers finding my clit. Skin on skin. A little moan escaped my lips.

  He leaned in, his cheek brushing mine. He didn’t kiss me, but the tip of his tongue traced the outline of my earlobe, hot and wet, and dipped into the spot right behind, where my ear met my neck. Then he went lower, slowly licking to the hollow of my collarbone. Every nerve-ending his tongue met with set alight, a rash of goosebumps left in their wake. A pleasurable shiver ran through my body. I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel with this man. Should I be aroused... or afraid?

  I was both.

  “That’s it, good girl,” he growled against my ear as he kept up fast circles on my clit. My breathing was shallow, my thighs trembling. I remembered what Angel had said about men liking to hear women as they pleasured them, and I allowed my moans to grow louder.

  He lifted his other hand and swiped his thumb against my mouth, dragging my lower lip slowly with it. I sucked in a jagged breath.

  “That’s right, you’re close, aren’t you? I can tell. I want you to look into my eyes as you come.”

  His hand left my mouth and moved lower to cup my breast over the top of my dress. He pinched my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, hard enough to hurt. I yelped, but pain acted in the same way the spanking had, stepping my arousal up a notch.

  “Look at me, Catalina.”

  I forced my gaze to his. Green eyes, not brown ones. Not the eyes I’d grown up in love with.

  Those fluttery feelings danced in my core, growing more intense with every passing second. I didn’t want to climax with him, but I didn’t have any choice. I might be inexperienced, but I didn’t think for a moment that Elliot Torres was. He held my body captive, dragging my orgasm from me.

  And even as I knew I was reaching the point of no return, and that I would come against his hand, all I could think about was how I was betraying Angel.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Present Day

  I WENT TO CHECK HOW Catalina was getting on with Torres.

  Paul was still standing in position at the door. His lips were pressed together, his eyebrows raised knowingly.

  “How’s it going in there?” I asked him.

  He smirked at me. “She seems to be having a good time.”

  “What? He’s not having sex with her, is he?”

  “No. I’ve checked through the crack in the door. But he’s kissing her neck, and has his hand shoved up under her skirt, and from the noises she’s making, I’d say she’s enjoying herself.”

  I stopped and listened for a moment, hating myself even as I did it. Sure enough, from behind the door came those cries of hers that I’d gotten to know myself over the last couple of days. They were like a dagger to my heart, and all the blood rushed out of my face, draining through my body. It was as though I’d been dunked in iced water.

  I couldn’t listen.

  Shaking my head, as though I could dislodge the sound of her orgasming with another man from my ears, I took several steps away, before spinning on my heels and storming back the way I’d just come.

  Even though I’d known this was what was going to happen, I hadn’t expected this punch to the gut upon hearing her with him. Fuck. It hurt enough to leave me gasping for breath and unsteady on my feet. I’d never experienced anything like it. Catalina, my Kitty-cat, with another man. That should be me in there, not him.

  My mind raced. Could I offer to buy her off him? I didn’t know how much he’d paid, but it must be at least six figures. I had money—that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that I knew neither Torres nor my father would allow it. To even offer would be seen as being disrespectful. I was terrified Torres had seen I had feelings for her and would decide to take her early.

  Shit. Feelings for her. I’d never meant for that to happen. I’d specifically said for us to leave our feelings at the door, and instead I hadn’t been able to escape them.

  Her little moans and gasps rang in my ears, even though I’d already put too much distance between us to actually be able to hear them. Was she enjoying what he was doing to her for real? Maybe Catalina wanted to go with Torres? Maybe she was bored of this life and was looking forward to what was coming next. If the man was able to make her orgasm, then it would only help to bond her to him rather than me. I hated the idea of her coming over another man’s hand.

  I burst out of the house and into the fresh air.

  Men were still standing with the vehicles, but I couldn’t even look at them, terrified they’d ask me questions about how Torres was getting on with Catalina, and my rage would be so powerful I’d pull out my father’s gun and shoot each of them in the face.

  Instead, I kept my head down and stalked my way to the back of the property, where I’d watched Catalina hang laundry on so many mornings. I was hiding like a fucking chicken-shit, but I couldn’t be around this. I’d never experienced anger like it in my life, and I was genuinely worried about what I might do.

  I reached the back of the house and let fly, my fist pounding against the gritty wall of the house. I roared my anger between clenched teeth, deliberately not wanting to be heard.

  “Angelo? Is everything okay?”

  Fuck. I hadn’t realized I wasn’t alone.

  I spun to find the blonde girl with the big tits—I searched my memory for her name... Bianca, that was it—gazing up at me in worry. “Has something happened?”

  “No, it’s fine.” I was embarrassed I’d been caught during my outburst.

  She glanced down. “You’re bleeding.” She caught up my hand to show me my bloodied knuckles.

  “I’m fine,” I insisted.

  I went to pull my hand away, but she was surprisingly strong for her size.

  “I can always kiss it and make it better,” she said with a pout. She moved even closer, her breasts almost spilling from the front of her dress. She pulled open the fingers of my bleeding hand and placed it over the top of one of her tits. Her nipple was already hard, pressing through the thin material against my palm.

  My emotions were all over the place. I knew I should push her away, but I just wanted something that would block out the memory of hearing Catalina’s moans, and to take my mind off her being in the room with Torres, and what they might be doing together, and how much she was enjoying it.

  I squeezed her breast, and she moved in closer.

  Her hand pushed down the front of my pants, and even though I was angry, I was already hard. Her fingers wrapped around my length, and she pulled me free.

  “Ooh, now aren’t you a big boy,” she cooed in a childish singsong voice that grated on every nerve ending.

  “Shut up,” I snapped, even as she pumped my cock with her fist.

  “You don’t like me talking, baby? How about you fill my mouth with this big dick of yours. Shove it down my throat so I can’t talk anymore.”

&nb
sp; “I should shove it down your throat so you can’t breathe,” I snarled.

  I was directing my anger at the wrong person, but I didn’t even care. I knew women like this. She knew exactly what she was doing, and what she wanted. I’d seen her giving me flirty glances whenever I came to the compound, pushing out her tits and twirling her hair around her fingers. She wanted me.

  “You can take any hole you want,” she purred. “You want to fuck me in the ass. All men like fucking me in the ass. It’s so tight back there.”

  “I thought I told you to stop talking.” I yanked her hair into a ponytail, and, using my hold on her hair, forced her to her knees. Her pale blue eyes brightened at being faced with my cock, but I was determined she wouldn’t look so pleased with herself for much longer.

  She opened her mouth eagerly for me, and I nudged my hips forward. The head slid across the soft, wet heat of her tongue, her lips encasing my girth. Fuck, it felt good, but I wasn’t going to let her just suck me off. She bobbed down my length and then moved to come back up, but I still had hold of her hair. Instead of letting her back up, I shoved my cock deep. She gagged, her eyes watering.

  I didn’t want this to be Bianca I was punishing. I wanted it to be Catalina, my Kitty-cat. But right now she was with the man who owned her. He was the one making her his own, and even though he’d sworn there would be no sex until she turned eighteen, which was only a day away now, I knew he would be touching her. How could he not? How could any man be put into a room with a woman like her and not want to touch that perfect, creamy skin?

  Jealousy burned like a white hot flame inside me. She was never mine. She never had been. She’d been his all along, and though I’d known this for years, I’d never felt this way before.

  Tears sprang in Bianca’s eyes, and I released my hold on her hair just a fraction. A thin line of snot ran from one nostril, and my senses suddenly returned to me. I let her go and pulled my dick from her mouth, a wave of disgust at myself flooding over me. What the hell was I thinking? I never touched one of the women.

  She fell back on her ass in the dirt. “What’s wrong? Did I do something you didn’t like?”

  “No, it’s not you,” I said, even though it was.

  Movement came from the side of the house.

  I looked over and locked eyes with another set of baby-blues. Catalina. She was staring at me in horror, but she didn’t make a move to run away, and instead stood her ground.

  “Mr. Torres has gone now,” she said, her voice unreadable. “He wasn’t able to find you to send his regards, so he asked me to do it. He said to thank you for your hospitality, and that he’d see us both in a couple of days.”

  Then she turned from me and vanished back around the side of the house.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Present Day

  IT WAS THE MORNING of my eighteenth birthday, but the last thing I felt like doing was celebrating.

  Tomorrow, I’d leave this place and go to live with Elliot Torres, but bizarrely, even though I knew this was the thing that should be taking priority in my mind, it was Angel who had taken hostage of my thoughts and emotions.

  I couldn’t get the sight of him with Bianca out of my head. The smug smile she’d given me, as though she knew she’d won, made me want to claw her eyes out as well. I had no right to be jealous—after all, I’d literally orgasmed with another man’s hand on my pussy only minutes before—but for some reason, that fact didn’t change how I felt.

  How could he? Even though I knew he must have been with plenty of women over the years, seeing him there with Bianca’s mouth around his cock and his hands in her hair had felt like he’d reached into my chest, torn out my heart, and stomped on it for good measure.

  My eyes filled with tears just thinking about it, and I swiped them away.

  I’d gone back to my old room after I’d seen them together, needing some familiar comforts around me. I’d only have one more night here, and then I’d be leaving with Elliot Torres. For the first time in my life, a part of me was actually looking forward to leaving this place. Elliot would take me far away from here, away from Angel and Bianca and all the memories of the compound. Though my heart broke at the thought, I also felt like it was what I needed to survive. If I stayed here a moment longer, knowing I was sharing the same space as Angel, I felt sure I’d split apart from the heartache.

  I was eighteen, finally, an adult. But instead of freedom, I only felt responsibility. There was no ‘get-out-of-jail-free’ card for me anymore because I was too young. I was just as old as any of the other women who worked here, and I’d be expected to act as such.

  The door burst open, and I jumped.

  My initial thoughts went to Angel, but instead Yolanda and Marie and several of the other girls burst into the room. Yolanda held a chocolate cake on a plate, and sparklers and candles fizzed from the top.

  “Here she is!” she cried. “The birthday girl!”

  I surreptitiously wiped my tears and plastered a smile to my face. The chocolate cake was shoved in front of me, and I half-heartedly blew out the candles and waited for the sparkler to burn down.

  “We got Georgina in the kitchen to make it for you,” Yolanda said, pride in her voice. “I know chocolate is your favorite.”

  “It smells amazing. Thank you.”

  They were making me cry again, but for a whole different reason this time.

  “There are presents, too,” Marie announced.

  They each pushed little gifts into my hands, presents they’d wrapped in tissue paper due to their lack of any regular gift wrapping. I didn’t care. With more tears blurring my vision, I tore open their presents of bubble bath and perfume and makeup, all things they’d been given by the master for work, but had squirreled away to give to me on my birthday.

  “Thank you,” I managed to say, holding back my sobs but still having to sniff. “This is all so perfect.”

  Yolanda pulled me in and planted a kiss on my head. “We wanted you to know you’re special, Catalina. And even though you’re leaving us tomorrow, we’ll never forget you. Remember that, whatever happens.”

  I clung to her, burying my face in her shoulder and trying desperately not to weep. These women had been a family to me—the only family I’d ever really had—and in less than twenty-four hours I would be leaving them forever.

  “Do you think Angelo will give you a present?” Carla asked but was dealt a swift elbow in the side for her question.

  “She doesn’t want to think about Angelo Cassidy right now,” Yolanda snapped.

  My sadness wasn’t because I was going to live with Elliot Torres. I’d always known that was in my future, and now I’d properly met him, I couldn’t complain. He was handsome and had seemed kind enough, and I didn’t think being physical with him was going to cause me any problems. I had been attracted to him, and my body had reacted at his touch. I had it in me to be the slave he’d bought, to please him, and be subservient, and follow his rules.

  But I knew now that I’d be going through each day with a giant hole in my chest where my heart used to be.

  Because no matter how gorgeous, or rich, or powerful Elliot Torres was, he’d never be Angel.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Present Day

  THE SILVER CHAIN DRAPED from my fingers, the pendent in the shape of a C nestled in the palm of my hand. I closed my fist around the necklace and lowered my head, squeezing my eyes shut.

  I’d intended to give the necklace to Catalina as a present, but that had been before all this had happened. When I’d bought it, it had only been as a present for a girl I’d grown up with and was now going to live somewhere else.

  But everything had changed.

  I saw her differently now. She’d cast that little girl off, and now she was eighteen years old and a grown woman. Now I saw her with the same eyes as Elliot Torres. Yes, she might have been a child once, but weren’t we all? Now she was a woman, and I’d learned for myself over the last few days t
hat she contained more sensuality and passion than any other woman I’d met. Seeing her with Torres had ripped out my heart. Had she felt the same way when she’d seen me with Bianca? Was it possible she actually cared about me as more than just the boy from her childhood—her master’s son?

  What would it matter even if she did? Tomorrow, she would be leaving to live with Torres, and I’d probably never see her again.

  I squeezed the necklace in my hand. Could I give this to her now? It felt wrong to not give her a present on her eighteenth birthday, but somehow the necklace felt like more than just a necklace. Hell, I didn’t even know if Torres would allow her to keep it, even if I decided to give it to her. I remembered all the little gifts I’d bring her back when I’d been away at school. Her face would light up in delight at the most simple things—a candy bar, a new pencil, a set of erasers. After awhile, I’d stopped bringing her things when I got back. She’d seemed too big for such presents, and, just like the necklace now, it had felt like they’d meant more.

  I wished I’d never stopped bringing her things.

  My father would be back in time for Torres to collect her tomorrow. I was surprised Torres had left as willingly as he had, but she’d obviously given him enough to satisfy him for the moment. I hated to think of the things they’d done together in my father’s office. I’d told Torres she must remain a virgin, but there were plenty of other things they could have gotten up to—Catalina knew how to please him. I’d seen to that.

  Whatever happened over the next twenty-four hours, I couldn’t spend it hiding away in my room like a child. Hard as it might be, I couldn’t not see Catalina either. How would I forgive myself if I allowed her to leave, feeling as though she hated me? Instinctively, I knew that would be a shadow hanging over the rest of my life, and even though her leaving would be bad enough, her hating me forever would rot away at my soul.