Masquerade

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Masquerade Page 11

by Derek Masters


  “Oh,” she says, looking down at the mattress. The look on her face makes me feel a twinge of sadness on her behalf. “You know, I always knew that my mother and father never really cared much about me, but in the back of my mind, I always hoped that I was wrong. I always hoped that maybe they really did love me but were always bad at showing it. I guess if there’s one good thing to come out of this whole situation is that now I know the truth. Now I know that nobody cares, and nobody likely ever will now that I’m here for the rest of my life...unless the cartel finishes us off.”

  Chloe looks at me with a sad smile as she tries to make light of her home life, or lack thereof.

  I sit quietly, wanting to make sure I choose my words carefully. I want to tell her that she’s wrong. I want to say to her that there’s someone right here who cares about her. I want to tell her I care. I open my mouth to speak, but I stop myself dead in my tracks.

  “I have to go,” I tell her.

  “What? Are you sure? Do you have to go?”

  “Yes, Chloe. I have to. I’m sorry.”

  I stand up and leave the room. As I close the door, I hear Chloe quietly begin to cry.

  Chapter 16

  Chloe

  My head is all over the place. I’m upset that my parents haven’t even contacted Brandon to see what I’m up to. I would love to be able to say I’m surprised, but I would just be fooling myself if I did. I’m not surprised at all. Hell, I’ve known how they’ve felt about me my entire life, so I can’t even act as though I’m confused by their actions.

  One thing I am confused about, however, is Brandon. I told myself that I could never have feelings with someone who only viewed me as an object. I told myself that I would never care about someone who didn’t care for me in return, and I meant what I said.

  Today, something is different.

  The Brandon who just left my room is not the same man who has been coming down to use my body for his own perverted pleasure for months. The confidence and cockiness that always oozes from him was just replaced by a vulnerability within him that I didn’t think was possible.

  I’ve always had a gift in which I’ve been able to read people. That’s one of the main reasons I wanted to get into journalism. Brandon is one of those people that are hard to read, but I think I’ve just seen another layer of him that most people never get to see. Hell, it’s possible nobody has ever seen it in his adult life.

  It’s possible that maybe, just maybe, Brandon may actually care about me beyond just what he wants from me sexually. I saw something in his eyes when I was talking about my parents. He had something he wanted to say. I know he did. For some reason, he stopped himself before he said it and left.

  Maybe I’m just fooling myself. Maybe for some stupid reason, there’s a small part of me who believes in a good old-fashioned happily ever after. I need to keep reminding myself that even though he and I met at a masquerade ball, I’m not Cinderella, and this sure as hell isn’t a fairy tale. As much as I want someone to care about me, he simply doesn’t and never will. As soon as I can get that through my thick skull, the better off I’ll be.

  From the day I realized that he really plans on keeping me with him for the rest of my life, I began dreaming of the day that I have an opportunity to escape. That day hasn’t presented itself, but I figure as the weeks, months, or years drag on, he’ll eventually let his guard down enough that I’ll have the opportunity to make a run for it. This is still my plan, but suddenly, I find the thought of escaping and being responsible for Brandon being hurt or even killed by the cartel digs at me.

  I’m lying on the bed thinking about all of this when there’s a knock on my door. It must be time for dinner, even though it doesn’t seem like it’s been all that long since lunch.

  “Come in,” I yell.

  It’s one of Brandon’s security guards

  “The boss said to bring these to you,” he tells me as he places a large box on the foot of the bed before walking away without saying another word.

  This is a strange occurrence because nobody ever brings me anything other than food and my clothes after they’ve been washed. I slide down the bed to look in the box. My mouth hangs open in shocked surprise when I see what’s inside.

  The box is filled with books from some of my favorite authors. I see Odd Thomas by Dean Koontz, Under the Dome by Stephen King, Jack Reacher by Lee Child, Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn, The Obsession by Nora Roberts, and so many more.

  I’m stunned at the fact that these books are sitting right in front of me. I’m trying to make sense of this. Why would Brandon do this for me? He hasn’t cared that I’ve been bored and alone since I’ve got here, so why does he care now? Is this an indication that I’m onto something when I say I saw something different in him when he was in my room earlier?

  I’m not sure what his motives are, but I’m extremely happy that he’s done this for me. I grab a book and read for the rest of the night. Just the simple pleasure of reading a book is a fantastic feeling. The only thing that could make it better would be being able to thank Brandon for what he’s done for me. I read until my eyes give out, and I fall asleep.

  For the first time since I’ve been here, I wasn’t woken by nightmares. In fact, I slept soundly and peacefully with no dreams whatsoever, which was a welcome change.

  As soon as my eyes open, I’m already thinking about what book I’m going to read next. I roll off of my side and onto my back to have a good stretch before I get up for the day.

  “Oh my God!” I scream at the top of my lungs as I roll over and come into contact with something in my bed.

  As I leap out of bed with fists clenched, I see Brandon, groggy and half asleep, sitting up in the bed.

  “What’s going on?” He asks.

  “You scared the shit out of me!” I reply. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I was having trouble sleeping, so I figured I’d come down here.”

  He didn’t exactly the say the words, but I know the message he’s sending, This is the moment that I realize that I’m more than just a sex object to him.

  Brandon gets up from the bed and walks over to where I’m standing. Placing his hand on my face, he looks deep into my eyes and kisses me. This is not one of those hard, I’m going to pound you kisses I’ve become used to. This kiss is soft and delicate, our tongues teasing one another in our mouths.

  He reaches around me, unclasps my bra, removes it from my shoulders, and drops it to the floor. He lifts his t-shirt and throws it to the floor as well. Brandon moves to take off his boxers, but I grab his hands to stop him. He starts to say something, but I place a finger up to his lips.

  “Shhh,” I say, watching a look of bewilderment move across his face. He’s not used to someone else taking over.

  I kneel down and slide his boxers off. He’s already big and hard. I open wide and take him into my mouth. He begins moaning as he grabs the back of my head as I’m moving back and forth. I look up and see him watching my ass in the mirror across the room. He moans as I work him over.

  From out of nowhere, Brandon grabs me from the floor and tosses me onto the bed. He pulls my panties to the side and spreads my legs apart. Before I know what hits me, his tongue is on my clit. Sounds of ecstasy fill the room as he cups my breasts while tasting my sweetness.

  I grab a handful of his hair, pulling on it every time I think I can’t take any more. Every time he feels that tug, he ups the intensity of what he’s doing.

  After giving me one hell of an intense orgasm, he begins kissing up my body. He kisses along my belly, up to my breasts, stopping to suck on each of my nipples. He continues up my chest, onto my neck, before finally reaching my lips, kissing me deeply. I love tasting myself on his tongue.

  As we kiss, he slides himself into me. We both moan as my pussy grips his cock tightly. He holds himself up and watches his dick as it moves in and out of me slowly. He’s taking his time with me, a stark contrast to wha
t I’ve experienced with him before.

  “Do you like that?” He asks, my moan answering his question instantly.

  Brandon starts moving at a steady pace, and it’s driving me insane. I’m trying to hold off, but I can’t. I lose all control, and my body begins to shake. He picks up the pace and moves into me even faster, intensifying my orgasm. My wetness is dripping down the curve of my ass as I moan his name over and over.

  He pulls out of me and lies down on his back next to me.

  “Ride me,” he says.

  He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I roll over and climb on top of him, sliding his cock into me. I move up and down as I run my hands all over his chest. I sit up straight to bounce up and down on him. Brandon reaches up and rubs my clit with his thumb. I feel like I’m in heaven.

  Brandon grabs me and pulls me into him, kissing me while I ride him. The kiss is passionate and lasts for so long.

  I can feel his cock starting to swell inside of me, so I know he’s getting close. When he’s about to cum, he groans into my ear.

  “I love you, Chloe.”

  Before I reply, he groans loudly, grabs my hips, and maneuvers me as he empties himself into me. He comes for so long that I feel like he may flood me. It feels so good and leads to another mini-orgasm for me. It’s intense, and I love every minute of it.

  As I collapse onto the mattress next to him, a billion thoughts are running through my mind. First of all, I can’t believe what he just said to me, and that alone is enough to overwhelm me with emotions. I also note something in Brandon. That was the first time I’ve seen him appear to be genuinely happy during sex. The other times he’s fucked me, all I could see was anger and resentment in his face. Seeing him happy is a nice change. Happiness looks good on him.

  For the first time since I’ve been here, I think maybe I know what my purpose in life should be. Perhaps my purpose is to make him happy. In return for his happiness, all I’ll ask in return is his protection and all the discipline I’ve been craving my entire life. I’ll belong to someone who genuinely cares for me, which, in reality, is all I’ve ever really wanted.

  “I don’t know what this means for us,” he tells me as I put a shirt on.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve never done this before. In my entire life, I’ve never felt like I’ve truly connected with a woman. Not like this. I don’t know where we go from here. I’ve developed feelings for you, and I don’t want to keep you trapped. The last thing I want is to keep you against your will.”

  I lean over and kiss him softly.

  “I may have started here against my will, but everything just changed as far as I’m concerned. I want to be here. I am happier right now than I’ve ever been in my own home.”

  “That’s easy for you to say now. I have no idea how we would even transition this into a real relationship.”

  “What’s wrong with the dynamics we have now?” I ask. Maybe I don’t want to transition at all. Sure, I would change some things, but I love belonging to you. I love submitting to you. You give me the discipline that I’ve always craved. I want things to stay basically how they are, just with more love.”

  “You know you have me in a vulnerable place right now, don’t you? How do I know this isn’t some kind of trick? How do I know you’re not telling me whatever I want to hear? How can I be sure you really want to stay?”

  “I don’t really have a way to answer that.”

  “I’ll answer for you. There’s really only one way to find out for sure. I’m not going to cuff you to the bed, and I’m not going to lock the door when I leave. If you want to go, you are free to leave. If that’s what you choose, I want you to get as far away from here as possible and lay low. I’ll deal with the fallout from the cartel.”

  He drops the handcuffs to the floor and walks out, leaving the door wide open, just as he said he would.

  Chapter 17

  Brandon

  I feel devastated, and I don’t know why. I didn’t mean to develop feelings for Chloe, but I did, and there’s nothing I can do about it. As much as I don’t want her to go, it isn’t fair to keep her here any longer.

  These feelings are bizarre. I’m so used to not giving a shit about anything. All my life has been lived with a cold heart and no conscience. It’s been easy that way. At least then, I didn’t have to feel the pain of losing someone I care for.

  The door has been left wide open for Chloe to leave, and I’ve instructed my security detail not to detain her if she attempts to flee. They’ve been ordered to let her go if that’s what she chooses to do. I don’t expect her to stay. Not after everything I’ve put her through. I think she’s going to leave forever, and I don’t blame her one bit. As a matter of fact, there’s a part of me that wants her to go. I don’t deserve to have her here. I was willing to keep her locked up for the rest of her life. Even after realizing how wrong that is, it’s something that would be unforgivable if I was her.

  The only right thing for me to do is to let her go. I love her and have to think about what’s best for her going forward, even if that means the cartel will likely come to kill me. She makes me feel things that all the money I’ve made never has. If she decides she doesn’t want to be with me and chooses to go instead, then I don’t really care what happens to me after that.

  Normally, I’d go to my office this time of day, but I can’t do it. My stress levels are through the roof. I decide to head to my room instead. I figure if I lie down for a while, it will give me some time to think. Also, I won’t have to watch Chloe walk out the door if I’m in my room.

  The house is eerily quiet, and it’s enough to unnerve me. I don’t like sitting in one place for too long, but at the same time, sadness is overwhelming me. Surely, she must be gone by now.

  I decide to walk downstairs to her room, where I’m sure to find that her things are gone. When I open my bedroom door, I’m surprised to see Chloe standing there, preparing to knock.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Hello,” she replies.

  “Were you coming to say goodbye?”

  “I was actually hoping we could talk for a minute.”

  “Sure, come on in.”

  She walks in and takes a seat on the bed.

  “Come, sit down,” she says, patting the bed next to her.

  “What’s up?” I ask, afraid of what she might be about to tell me.

  “Well, I’ve spent the last couple of hours thinking. Thinking really long and hard, as a matter of fact. I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to leave, and I want to thank you for allowing me to do so.”

  “You’re welcome. It’s only fair to you.”

  “It is, and I know you put yourself at great risk by letting me go, so I just wanted to thank you for being so selfless and thinking about my needs before your own. With that said, this shows me the kind of person you really are, and because of that, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Wait, what? No, you’re not thinking logically. You have your freedom. This is your chance to go.”

  “I don’t want to go. Let me ask you a question. Does your offer for me to go expire?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if I don’t choose to leave right now, do I once again become your property, or am I allowed to leave anytime I like?”

  “No, there is no expiration date. You can come and go as you choose.”

  “Then this is exactly where I want to be, but only under one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You let me sleep in here with you.”

  “Yes, of course. My room is your room. If we want to play in the room downstairs, then we’ll go down together.”

  She leans over and gives me a soft, sweet kiss.

  “Will you lay with me and take a nap? This has been an emotional day, and I’m exhausted.”

  “Of course,” I reply, lying back onto the pillows.

  Chloe rests her head on my chest and wraps her arm around my wai
st. I feel something I haven’t felt in a long time. I feel content. I feel like I’m precisely where I’m supposed to be. For the first time in ages, I feel calm and at peace with the world.

  I don’t know how long we’ve been sleeping, but we awaken to complete and total chaos. There is all kinds of activity happening in the hall. I know something is wrong when one of my security guards storm into the room without knocking.

  “Sir, we have a big problem.”

  “What’s going on, I ask?”

  “Your head of security is a mole. He’s been working for the cartel and has been feeding them any information he could find. They know that you told Chloe she could leave and are not happy that you broke the agreement you made with them. They’re on their way right now.”

  “Fuck!” I yell at the top of my lungs. “Thanks for letting me know. Watch the cameras and let me know if anything shady starts going down.”

  “Yes, sir. You got it.”

  He leaves the room and I turn to Chloe.

  “It’s time for you to go, Chloe.”

  “What? No! I’m not leaving you. Not like this!”

  “This is not up for debate. If the cartel is really coming, I’m not sure what they’re going to do when they get here. I have a pretty good idea, though, and I’m not going to put your life in danger.”

  “Where am I even supposed to go?” She asks with tears filling her eyes.

  I walk over to the closet and remove a false panel in the wall, pulling out a suitcase.

  “Take this. There is $50,000 in this suitcase. I want you to run out of here as fast as you can, jump in my car, and start driving to the Canadian border as fast as possible.”

  “No, Brandon. I can’t. I won’t!” She pleads. “I want to stay with you. I can’t leave.”

  “Chloe, I need you to listen to me very closely,” I plead with tears in my eyes. “I want you to stay more than anything, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happens to you. Take my car and head for Canada. There’s a phone and a charger in the suitcase. It’s a burner that nobody knows about. If I come out of this okay, I’ll call you. Please, just go.”

 

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