Two

In the attack, Arianna's brain did not even have the chance to numb itself. She was pulled inside, her mind consumed in the danger of uncertainty. His head went down and tasted her lips before she could get ready. She felt pain as his body pushed against her and her back got pinned to the back of the door he had shut with a bang behind her. He was a big man, and his fingers grasped at her hair, his teeth nipped at her jaw, which made her gasp.

He assaulted her mouth, licked her lips with a careless, wet kiss, and she drowned in the aggressive attack of his lips.

Arianna closed her eyes as the smell of alcohol assailed her. Hands went down and slid between them and cupped her breasts, and she stifled another scream. He squeezed, but not as hard or harsh as she thought it would be. As if he was sizing them up, testing their softness, and grunted against her face as if he was satisfied, since his lips still assaulted her cheek now, as if he was finding trouble locating her lips. Then the hand on the breast went down and he grabbed one of her thighs to lift her around his lower torso. Another hand cupped her behind the back of her head and angled her so that he found her mouth successfully this time and his offensive kiss caught her gasp at the bulging hardness, as hard as a rock, that pushed at the apex of her thighs.

Naked... he... was naked under the material that her hand was grasping now, which was a silk robe. She recoiled in horror as what was about to happen to her truly struck.

My god, my god, don't be like this. Don't. Don't be so scared!

But she was terrified. He would take her there against the door, just like that. And who knew what else he planned to do to her? She couldn’t run. Can’t escape. No one knew where she was now. No one except Madame Venus, the one who'd sent her here. Her mother would die in despair if she knew what her only daughter was going through right now.

She’s sick. No. She can’t find out. We still need her. She has to live.

So no one was going to save her from this brutal monster.

She forced the bitter cry down, pushed the fear where it couldn't overcome her. She couldn't make any move that showed revulsion. She didn't know much else, but she at least knew this. Not only because he might hurt her more…

Tommy couldn’t go to jail. He can't be there. I can't let him suffer for doing something to help Mama! I have to survive him. I have to get out of here in one piece.

The man raised his head and barked angrily at her. "Kiss me, damn it! Kiss me back! Are you a brick, whore? Kiss me now!"

She stared at his dark face, her mouth gaping. She was grateful she couldn’t see his face in this dark house. She did not want to see him again or recognize him anywhere. Nor did she want him to see her and remember her if they stumbled upon each other somewhere in the future. It was bad he waited for her here, so it meant he had a connection to the mansion. So she looked down.

Then she remembered what he ordered her to do and she winced. Kiss. She didn't know how to kiss. She hadn't even been this close to the man, his whole body plastered all over her like glue. She hadn't been with any man. How was she to kiss him?

She remembered what Madame Venus said.

"Just be beautiful. You show flesh. Put color on your face. When he sees how beautiful you are, he knows what to do," that was the sage advice in the hooker’s manual, she hysterically thought. "You don't have to work hard. Just lie there on the bed and bear it and it will be all over before you know it."

But there wasn't even time for bed. He was trying to do her right there on the door!

"Damn it!"

She managed not to jump at his bark this time. Kiss him. Right. She raised her face, but he was sighing heavily. He stepped back and swayed a little. Her hands reached to steady him impulsively, but as her leg was still around him and he still held her thigh, her hips were pulled towards him and a gap appeared between their upper bodies. And he stopped, looked down at her quizzically. She could see the outline of a straight nose and the shadow of arched eyebrows. Strong jaws. Before she could remember she wasn’t supposed to not look too closely, he’d encased her in his arms, lifted her to him and carried her into the dark interior of the house. The moonlight penetrated thin curtains in this part of the living room, and it was a spacious place.

With a gigantic couch.

And then he let her slide down his hard body. She gulped as he felt that rigid part of him again. She could now almost see intent eyes as he pushed her away a little to look down at her clothed body. She shuddered as she watched his hooded eyes. She couldn't help it. There was tension in him that still made her want to run. Then he moved. For a drunk man, he was fast, and she heard the tearing of cloth. She would have screamed again but he'd claimed her lips again, surer in his direction this time, his hands throwing away remnants of her dress. Then, in the next instant, the cups of her bra went above her breasts, its straps entangling in her upper arms that he cursed and tore those, too, with his bare hands. She was lifted off her feet and was unceremoniously dropped on the couch. Her breath left her chest. Bra off. Dress off. She was only in her panties as she lay there.

She was numb by now. Her hands were fists, crossed over her breasts. Inside her head was a litany of prayers to a god who seemed to have forgotten her, but she was praying still. When her father died, her grandmother was crying so hard, said that god had forsaken them. But even when her heart was breaking, she felt it wasn't true at all. God wasn't the driver who'd gotten drunk and ran over her father on the freeway. It wasn't god who'd killed him and left his wife a widow and his children fatherless.

She closed her eyes and instructed herself that she would not open them again until it was over.

And she waited.

And waited.

Her skin remained exposed in the cold draft of the evening air. She remained lying there, and she heard the gasp of the man who was about to take her.

Arianna almost fainted from fear. What did she do now? What had she not done yet? He was waiting for something. She opened her eyes, and the man was just staring down at her.

She stared back.

It was lighter now in there.

She could see his face.

A handsome face, one that was very familiar to her.

My god.

It was Señorito Enrique!