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I still didn’t fully understand that I wasn’t free anymore. This was my first day in my gilded cage.Chapter 3AdriánMy tutor, Mrs. Gómez, droned on about algebra, addressing Valentina to assess her knowledge. It turned out, the girl had a tutor of her own at her former home, and she was actually quite advanced for her age.
She’s fourteen, I reminded myself, tearing my gaze from her breasts, which strained against the silky dress she wore.
I’d thought she was a couple years older, closer to my age.
Then again, she was all made up now, her face painted and her hair sleekly styled. When I’d found her sobbing on the bathroom floor this morning, she’d appeared much younger. She’d looked like a scared little girl.
I ground my teeth and set my attention back to my own calculus. I didn’t care if she was scared, and I didn’t care how mature she looked in that form-fitting dress.
She’d already earned me a few good whacks from Hugo. It wasn’t bad compared to some of the punishments he’d doled out on my father’s behalf, but it still rankled that she’d caused me to be disciplined. Usually if I was beaten, it was because I intentionally got myself into trouble.
No matter what I did, I never captured my father’s attention. Only Hugo’s disciplinary fists. Vicente Rodríguez needed an heir, not a beloved son. His right-hand man dealt with all the things that bored him, and that included me.
My eyes roved back to Valentina’s face. Her features were delicate, almost fragile. I suspected her skin was usually a glowing shade of bronze, but now, she appeared ashen. Her lower lip quivered as Mrs. Gómez lectured her on the gaps in her knowledge. Valentina’s white teeth sank into her lip, making me realize how full and pouty they were. Her long, thick lashes lowered, fanning her cheeks.
This girl was young and innocent, no matter how Mariana had dressed her.
Something hot pumped through my veins. I didn’t need her in my life, in my house. Taking up my space. She was just here to be my father’s whore one day, when she was old enough for him to fuck her.
My fist clenched, and my pencil snapped in my hand.
Her chocolate eyes lifted in alarm, fixing on me. I glowered at her, resenting her presence. Her mouth opened slightly, her lush lips parting. A visible tremor raced through her curvy body.
The heat in my veins burned, pulsing through me and reaching areas that were embarrassing. I wasn’t an inexperienced virgin, but I’d never been forced into the same space with a girl as delectable as Valentina. Suddenly, I had difficulty controlling my body.
I slammed the broken pencil down on the table and surged to my feet, grabbing up my books at the same time and strategically placing them over my growing erection.
Without a word to her or Mrs. Gómez, I stalked off to my bedroom. I’d have to deal with this problem. I’d never associated shame with sexual arousal before. Over the last year, I’d gotten the satisfaction I needed from one of the young maids who lived on father’s estate.
But now, I couldn’t control myself. All I wanted was to wrap Valentina’s silky hair around my fist and force her to her knees. I wanted to know what those plump lips felt like caressing my cock, what those big brown eyes looked like when she was staring up at me. Would she tremble for me while she knelt at my feet?
Fuck! The visceral, fevered fantasy was almost enough to make me come undone, and I hadn’t even reached my bedroom. My shaft was painfully hard, pressing against the books I held to cover my arousal. I barely made it into my room without finishing in my pants. As it was, I only had to stroke myself a few times to reach completion, finding a flicker of relief from the tension she’d incited inside me.
An unfamiliar sense of shame rolled through my body, searing my gut. Not only had I lost control like an inexperienced boy, but I’d been fantasizing about a girl who was too young for me, too innocent for my secret depravities.
Her innocence wasn’t mine to take. She’d been brought here for my father to enjoy. Just because he wasn’t going to fuck her until she was older didn’t mean I could touch her.
Now that she was in Vicente’s home, Valentina was nothing more than a possession. But she didn’t belong to me.Whether I liked it or not, Valentina was forced into my life. Over the next month, she became part of my daily routine, being treated almost like a daughter in Vicente’s home.
Or like a lamb he was raising for the slaughter.
Children weren’t cherished on this estate—I certainly wasn’t—but we did have a certain standard of living. Vicente provided us with a private tutor, and we had ample space on the grounds to exercise. Ever since I was a boy, I’d spent my time running around the edges of the estate, skirting into the jungle that bordered it on the eastern side. Now, I spent a lot more time running. It was the best way to blow off steam, exhausting myself so I couldn’t become consumed by lustful thoughts of the girl trapped in my home.
