Page 12 of Camilo's Virgin


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“Yes. Harder, Milo.” I cry for him.

“Jesus. I can’t even punish you properly. You fucking love it when I’m rough with you, don’t you baby?”

“Yes! I love it. I love you.” I meet his thrusts, my cries getting louder as he fucks me over and over, his purpose is to make me remember I belong to him, but that is something I will never forget.

“Perfect for me, my Queen. Christ. Your pussy is strangling my meat. Greedy, knocked up pussy. Purr for me, kitten.” his teeth clamp down my nipple and I flood his cock with my release. His mouth catches my screams, lest not wake up the children. I feel him sear me with his salty signature and he rolls off me, pulling me against him. “Don't ever apologize to me when I have to shed blood to protect what’s mine. Do you hear me?”

“Yes. I hear you.” I say my head over his heart, letting the beating of it calm my own rapidly drumming one. I lay like that for a while before he pulls my chin up.

“Something else is bothering you though. What is it?” I bite my lip, not really wanting to say it aloud but knowing he won’t let me keep it to myself. We promised to tell each other everything from the very beginning and that is how our mutual trust was built.

“I guess I am just worried. What if my brothers don’t like me? What if we don’t get along? I mean we are all different people now.” when he says nothing I backpedal. “I know I sound silly. I am a grown woman for goodness' sake.” It sounds silly even to me. I have four kids and one on the way and here I am worrying about whether two grown men will like me.

“I don’t think you sound silly at all, Chas. You may be grown, but when it comes to them, at least until you finally see them again, you're still that sixteen year old girl.” he is right. In the blink of an eye he has fixed me. “Plus, they have spent the last seven years looking for you, baby. You are not going to have to worry about that. Now let’s get some rest. The monsters will wake up any minute.” It’s not the little monsters I am worried about. There are still big monsters on the hunt.

Chapter Eight

Milo

My ringing phone jars me awake. The dream I was having about Chassie and I making love slowly slips from my mind. Groaning, I look over at the clock and see that it’s only five am.

“Hello,” I answer groggily.

“Are you ready?” Lawrence asks in lieu of a greeting. I sit straight up in bed, on alert.

“Now?” I ask. The sun isn’t even up yet, but I trust this man. I trust he knows what the hell he’s doing.

“It’s the best time. Your father hasn't slept yet. He’s been dealing with the aftermath of your mother’s death.”

“I see.” I imagine this is where I should feel some type of guilt or sadness, but I don’t. Not even a little bit. I do, however, fear becoming the monster I was bred to be.

“It’s the best time. His guard is down, and the team thinks it will result in the least amount of casualties.”

“Have them watch out for the front gate. There’s weapons stored there in the guard post,” I say remembering the sheer amount of guns that are stockpiled there.

“Will do. See you on the other side.”

“Sounds good,” I say, hanging the phone up.

“What’s going on?” Chassie asks from my right.

“It’s happening now,” I tell her.

“Good. The sooner it's over the sooner we can move on.” I watch as her naked body stretches languidly beside me. Her pussy hits my thigh, and my cock hardens. No matter what’s going on, there is always time to love my wife properly.

When the kids wake up, we go about our morning as best as possible. Breakfast, get dressed, and all the cartoons they can handle. I, however, am impatiently waiting for news of the situation. It’s been almost five hours. I’m checking my watch every five minutes, and everything is going in slow motion.

Finally, I see a few dark SUVs pull up and Lawrence hops out. His dark aviator sunglasses covering his eyes.

“Wait here,” I say to Chassie. She nods and goes back to playing blocks with the kids. She looks like an angel with her hair down around her shoulders. They are making a small city and having so much fun doing it. Outside, I shake hands with Lawrence.

“It’s done,” he says. “Your father is on his way to Miami to be re-arrested on US soil. The Cuban government was kind enough to turn a blind to the blatant disregard of their sovereignty for the bigger picture.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Good work, Valladares. Good work.”

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