“Shit, mi pequeña hada. You're gushing all over me, baby. Is your greedy cunt asking for something?”
“Si, Papi. Necesito que me cojas.” Hearing her tell me she needs me to fuck her is all I need to hear. See, I call her little mouse because she is quiet, normally. Easily overlooked. But, when she is in my bed, she is loud and sensual. Dirty and uninhibited. We discovered our relationship dynamic was more D/s than anything else, and for us, it works.
“Come on, greedy girl. You need to come for me, baby. I have to get you back home before your father finds out.” Gripping her hips, I grind her on my cock, knowing she is going to spit all over it with her juicy pussy.
“Yes. Yes. Yesssss,” she screams before we both fall over and hold each other.
“I can feel you thinking, baby. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to go back there, Sir. Knowing everything now, I don’t want to be anywhere near him, especially now that I am pregnant,” she says, rubbing her belly. I get it. I am anxious every time she is out of my sight, but she was not a factor when I came here, and because no one knows about what I am doing, there was no extraction plan in place. I have to be smart and careful now. She and my child are my precious cargo.
“I know, baby. I promise it is almost time. Ok? Just be a little more patient.” I wish I knew it was already too late.
Six Weeks After That
The Day of the Rescue
I am holding the file in my hand, with the descriptions of the three women Montero is holding for trafficking. We knew about two of them; my brother, the Colonel, and Om Jorgensen were sent in to rescue them. The one we didn’t expect to be there is the reason I am here. Her. I found her. She disappeared from my grasp six weeks ago, and I have been half out of my mind since.
My little mouse. My Teresita. The night we found out she was pregnant, I took her home after we celebrated, she disappeared. I stormed the compound alone, took a bullet to the leg, but I put down everyone in there and found it desolate without any sign of her. I tore through his papers, looking for anything. Any sign of where they might be, but I found nothing.
My mind has been dark, blank, filled with vengeance and rage. The same man I am sure was responsible for my sister's disappearance has successfully taken something else from me. My future. My family. Now, here I am, holding her in my arms again as we race across the jungle, and all I can think of is being inside of her once again to convince myself this is real.
“How? How did you find me?” she asks as we stop for a second to take a drink of water.
“I followed the trail, baby. You didn’t think I would ever stop, did you?”
“I was afraid to hope. Especially since he listed my name as Hannah.”
“It was a smart cover on his part. I will give him that.” I take a moment to savor her mouth, giving myself a minute to relish her flavor once again. “Fuck I missed you, baby,” I tell her before attacking her lips once more. I pull back and place my hand on her stomach. “Is … is everything ok?” I fight to keep the emotion out of my voice.
“Nice and snug, babe. He doesn’t know yet, thank God. That might be the only thing that has saved me. If he knew, he would kill me.” I know she is right. He would never let evidence of her perceived disobedience and disgrace come to light. I want to stand here and hold her. To take her against the trees and remind her who she is and who she belongs to, but we need to get to the helo. Besides, now that I have her again, she is never getting away from me.
Chapter Two
Teresa
Three Months Ago
I hate Florida. While it’s hot, it doesn’t remind me of home as Father said it would. He led me to believe I wouldn’t even notice we weren't in Mexico City, but as always, he lied. Miami is where the money is, so it’s where we are. You have no idea how many men will pay for perceived perfection. It’s my job to get the money; my dad gets the girls. And by ‘gets,’ I mean he takes them from the streets. Prostitutes mostly who are looking for a better life, but occasionally a specific kind of girl is requested, and he kidnaps those. I don’t condone this, of course, but I know my father well enough to know that if I don’t do this, I won’t live to regret it. This party is the same as always. The men change, but the reason for the party never does. These disgustingly rich men who don’t take no for an answer buy pussies to fuck because whatever they are into is too much for a normal woman to handle. I lie to myself by thinking the girls who are paid to live with their Prince Charming for the rest of their lives, but I know most wind up dead or back with us for a second round of purchasing. It’s terrible.