Page 8 of Belonging to Them
Suddenly, he yanks me back with my hips and shoves my head to the floor, then he starts fucking my ass harder and faster.I barely have a chance to register the change before his grip on my hips tightens and he shouts, “Fuck, Ella, yes,” before thrusting into me one last time and freezing.I can feel the pulsing of his cock as he empties into me.
There are more sounds of movement, even while Kingston and I remain locked like this.After another long moment, he pulls out.Sebastian sits up, I think, and a warm washcloth is pressed between my legs, cleaning me.Sebastian holds me against him while Kingston wipes between my legs with the washcloth.
My scarf is untied, and I blink up at Sebastian’s kind face.
His hazel eyes are soft with love.“Was that fun, princess?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Kingston hugs me from the side and kisses my cheek.“That was so good, little girl.You’re amazing, you know that?”
When I’m with them, Ifeelthat.And I never want this feeling to end.
* * *
Ella
The next day, I’m pleasantly sore.Every step I take reminds me of what my men did to me last night.What they gave to me—punishments and rewards.I’ve never felt so treasured, so safe, as when I’m in their arms.
I’ve picked up an extra shift for Maids in Heaven, filling in at a hotel that sometimes calls us for extra help when one of their regular maids is out sick.I’ve cleaned here before, so I know the drill, and I’m able to let my mind wander.
Unfortunately, memories from last night only distract me for so long before I remember the real problem pressing on my heart—my brother.
I’ve tried texting and calling him a few more times, but there’s no answer, no response.Anxiety is starting to really get to me, but I remind myself that Tommy is no stranger to dangerous situations.There was that time not too long ago that he showed up to my apartment, all beaten, and I helped fix him up.He was okay then.He’ll be okay now.
I owe them, they said, and I shouldn’t try to get out of it.Owe who what?How canIowe anyone anything?Yeah, I still have hospital debts from my dad’s treatments, but I hardly think the hospital administration is going to hide my brother from me and send me threatening notes.
It’s got to be those guys who came into Bartleby’s when I was working there—the ones who followed Natasha and me into the alley, and hurt Sebastian.
Tell someone, and your brother dies.Well,nottelling anyone isn’t making him any safer.
This is eating me up inside.
I don’t have to tell everyone.I don’t want anyone else to be in danger from this, either.But I could tell the very people whose job it is to protect us.I don’t always trust the police to do the right thing, but they helped with all the Joel stuff, and figuring out who kidnapped Kristin.
The next hotel room I go into, I take out my phone and dial the San Esteban police station, then ask to be put through to Detective Baldwin.
I expect the call to go straight to voicemail, but instead, Detective Baldwin answers.
“Hi,” I say.“This is Ella Marchand.I’m not sure if you remember me, but you assisted with the case against Joel Tyler…”
“Yes, I remember you,” the detective says.“How can I help?”
“My brother seems to be missing,” I say.“And I received a note.”
“Drama just seems to follow you everywhere, doesn’t it?”he says.
I’m not sure how to read his tone.“Do you think this is a joke?”I ask in a carefully polite voice.
“No,” he says, “I apologize.But I should send you to the missing persons department—that’s who you should be talking to about all of this.”
“Oh, okay.”
“I’m patching you through now.Good luck, Ms.Marchand.”
“Thank you.”
I’m on hold for a few minutes, so I straighten the hotel room, doing all the jobs I can do one-handed while I hold the phone.Stripping the linens, piling them into the hamper, disposing of all the partially-used soaps, picking up a few pieces of trash that the guests were too lazy or distracted to toss on their own.
