Camilo's Virgin

“Don’t try to keep me out, Chassie. This pussy was weeping for me and now she will take what I give her. The question is...what will she give me?” he asks, sucking my neck leaving more marks on me. He asks me this every time he is inside of me, and my answer is always the same.

“A son.”

“Fuck yeah you will. Now come.” He ruts into me, hard and with purpose. I feel his heat shoot into me, and his release triggers my own. He falls on top of me and kisses my head. Like always, when we are finished, all the euphoria wears off and I am once again aware of my predicament. Aware of my options. None. “Stop worrying, baby. I promised you that first night I would protect you, didn’t I?”

“Yes.” He did and he has.

“Then trust me when I tell you, you will be my wife and mine only.”

I know he believes that, but between his mother and father, I am not so sure.

Two Months Later

“Good morning, wife.” He rolls over on top of me and kisses me.

“Good morning husband.” Kissing down my neck, he stops at my stomach and kisses it as well.

“Good morning my son.” I can’t help but smile.

We were married forty-five days ago, with no one but his parents and a priest in attendance. Unbeknownst to me, the week we began sleeping together, he went to his father and requested I be bequeathed to him as his future bride. He says his father put up a slight protest since I was bought to be a broodmare for him, a way for him to expand his legacy. Milo says when he brought it to him as the heir and prince to the empire, his father gave his permission.

The week before the wedding, I became ill and that is when we found out he knocked me up the first time. Now, here I lay, two months pregnant and married to one of my captors. Not only married though, but insanely in love. “How is he, this morning?’ He kisses my stomach once more before lying beside me.

“He is snug as a bug in a rug.” I giggle rubbing my barely there bump.

“Good. You know we have the business dinner tonight.” he says, getting out of bed. I groan and bury my head in the pillow. I hate having to see his mother when she comes onto the Island for his father's gatherings. Not to mention, I hate faking the smile like I am one of them, when in reality I am still a captive, married or not. Now, I just have more to lose.

Chapter One

Chassie

Five Years Later

It has been seven years since I was taken from my family and brought to Cuba. In that time, a lot has changed. Milo and I have four kids and one on the way. Yes. You read that right. Our first son, Camilo Jr. was born into a crown of glory. He was immediately heralded the Prince by his grandfather, but it was the pride radiating from my husband that meant the most to me. I had never seen a grown man cry until the day my little guy came into the world, and it was at that moment that the tiniest shroud of doubt I had about my situation, vanished. Well, at least the part about him and I being real and not a product of this environment and proximity.

One year later I gave birth to our first daughter, Genesis, followed by twins Ever and Everly and now here I am six months pregnant with another boy. These days, I find myself staring off into the sky, wondering if my brothers have families. Do they have children? Have they thought of me at all? Are my parents still alive? My hand goes to my chest as some of the ache comes back. Being a mom, I try to put myself in my parents' shoes and I can’t imagine surviving one of my kids being taken from me. Then again, I am not entirely sure my parents even loved me. Moreso, they loved the image of having the perfect family.

I don’t think of my parents often, but my brothers, they are always on my mind. Over the years, I have almost reached out to them several times, but the threat to my immediate family now, has always held me in check. I find I am more restless now, knowing that freedom is on the horizon.

“Mama.” Turning I see Genesis standing in front of me in her swimsuit. Once again my heart warms and fills with this unending bout of love for her beautiful face.

“Hey sweet girl. What are you wearing?” I ask, amused. She is my independent one. She gets something in her head and there is no changing her mind.