Claiming His Virgin

“Please Daddy,” she begs. Her body is in heat. Grabbing her knees, I push them up and rut into her, my eyes never leaving the ring on her finger. The first sign that she belongs to me irrevocably. Seeing it, knowing she is going to be mine, destroys my ability to hold it in.

“Come, little girl. Come with Daddy. Bathe me in your cream.” I pinch her clit and she detonates, her body rising off the bed, meeting my final thrusts before I finish and fall beside her. I unlock the cuffs and rub her wrists. “Are you ok, baby?”

“Hmmm.” She snuggles into my side. She is such a kitten. “I am better than ok. I’m happy, Axe. I love you so much. I just hope you know that I don’t need anything but you.” This girl.

“Good because you are stuck with me now.”

“No one else I would want to be stuck to,” she whispers that last part before she is once again asleep. I have rescued dozens of people. Giving people back their lives and helping them have a second chance at happiness. I never thought it was in the cards for me...until her.

She is everything good, light and sweet in this world and I will guard her heart, spirit and love, with my life.

I have been up for hours, sitting in the chair next to the bed watching her sleep. She has been slumbering since I finished fucking my demons out last night and I have been awake. The past twelve hours have been in motion and I keep coming back to the conversation I overheard between her and Kimbella. Replaying the sadness in her voice as she told her best friend she isn’t sure if I really love her. The fact that she could question it and not see how she has consumed every part of me, says a lot about how much I am fucking this up.

I was reluctant to start anything with her because I knew from the moment I rescued her that she could be the very thing that changes me. I have been content in the life I chose for myself. See, my parents came to America before we were born. They held their positions in Italy and my brother and I always knew growing up our paths would lead us back to Italy at the behest of my father. I watched growing up as my father and mother flounced around, pretending to have the perfect life and children. I watched as the memory of our baby sister was allowed to diminish in order to keep their image. My brother and I had to recite over and over how we would never mention Chassie’s name again. Yea. I have those parents.

My parents, Alfonso and Carolina Del Vecchio(née Cardoza), were an arranged marriage. My mothers father, Abilio Cardoza, was a Portuguese minister. He ruled his daughters like he did the church, hard and finite. He wanted his daughters to marry as virgins and to marry nobility. So, on my mother’s eighteenth birthday, he arranged her marriage to my father.

My father was the son of an Italian Prime Minister. Cosimo Del Vecchio was an unforgiving, steel frame of a man and he raised my father to be the same. Once they were married, it was paramount that they reproduce the perfect family. Diesel was born first, followed by me. We assumed they were done. They had two sons. When I was five, my mom became pregnant with a baby girl. Diesel and I were so excited to have a baby sister. Chassie was born, so tiny and delicate. We doted on her. She was the best part of our family. Then, like normal teen girls, when she turned fifteen, she began to notice boys and they noticed her.

She began to stay out late, and disobey the rules. I tried coming home as much as I could, but by this time, my father had already used his pull to get my brother and I into the U.N as Italy’s permanent representatives. Looking back, I should have come home more.

For her sixteenth birthday, she snuck out of the house, skipped her protective detail and supposedly she was going to meet her friends. That never happened and we never saw her again. We searched. Our parents hired detectives who could search quietly. Can’t make a scene and look bad. In the end, nothing. That is what changed the trajectory for Diesel and myself. Losing her was the biggest heartbreak. We vowed to help others and protect others. If I am being honest, I never forgave my parents for putting their reputation and livelihood ahead of her. Maybe if they would have been more attentive, she would still be here.

I never wanted to put myself in a position to have something that means so much to me taken from me again. Now that I have her, I need her, more than my last breath. I need her bred, my name attached to hers and her under my roof. Permanently. The problem is, with me comes my parents and I don’t want them anywhere near her. “Shit.” I run my hands through my hair. I have to fix this. Patting my pants, I feel the bulge of the box I woke my tech guy for, reminding me I am ready to make her mine. I could wake her, but I love watching her sleep. Watching her as she dreams and smiles. Her innocence and beauty have never been more prevalent.