Breaking Bella by Jenna Rose
Bella
Four weeks? For ten large drawings?My pulse skyrockets, and I start sweating. I’ve never kept a schedule with my drawings before and certainly have never had to keep any deadline other than my own. What if I can’t come up with anything in time? What if they’re terrible? What if Amy realizes she’s made a terrible mistake?
“Well, come on then.” Brax chuckles, tugging on my arm. I realize I’ve been standing and staring like an idiot as he pulls me toward the door.
“Oh, uh…thank you!” I manage to say as he pulls me back outside.
My mind is like one of those carnival games where they put a person inside a box filled with dollar bills blowing through the air and give them a limited amount of time to grab as much money as they can. I simply cannot focus on a thought as hard as I try, and the next thing I know, I’m in the passenger seat beside Brax, watching the buildings pass by as we drive through the city.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” he asks me, squeezing my thigh with a strong hand that lights me up like a Christmas tree. “And don’t tell me four weeks isn’t enough time for you. I know it is.”
Somehow, I manage to find the words. “How, Brax? How do you know?”
“Because.” He smiles. “Even if you can’t see your talent, I can.”
An aching sensation forms in the center of my chest, deep and unshakable. I try to push it away, but I can’t. It’s buried there, embedded and anchored. I know what it signifies, but I can’t bring myself to acknowledge it. Not yet. The consequences of that would be…well, they’d be too severe.
Falling in love with the Devil of Miami? The man who kidnapped me and took me like I belonged to him?
I’m just feeling a little bit of Stockholm syndrome. That’s all. It will pass.
After all, he’s a crime kingpin. A dangerous man who’s used to seeing what he wants and taking it ruthlessly.
Just like he did with me…
The way he’s gripping my leg now reminds me of how he took me—commanding me to strip for him on the couch, his eyes filled with lust, blazing with power. There was no denying him then, and although he hasn’t demanded anything from me yet, there’s no denying him now.
I lean across the center console and start to unbuckle his pants. I can already feel the bulge there. God, I’ve barely even begun my sexual journey, and I’m already jumping into something as risky as road head. But I can’t help myself. My desire for Brax is peaking at an unbearable level. He’s just done something incredible for me, and I need to repay the favor.
And to be honest, ever since I saw his cock, I’ve been dying to know what it would be like in my mouth…
“Wow, look at you,” he says softly as I pull his manhood from his briefs. It’s hard and thick between my fingers. Brax is used to being in charge, being served, and I’m more than happy to carry on that tradition now. “Not so shy anymore—”
“Quiet,” I say, looking up at him. “Just sit back and relax and try not to crash, okay?”
Wow, where did that come from?
A confidence I’ve never known fills me as I take Brax into my mouth. His thickness slides between my lips, igniting a fire within me. A deep, guttural sound rises from his chest, and his hips buck slightly up off the seat as he drives his cock deeper.
I gag slightly and feel my eyes start to water.
All I want to do is please him, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I do my best, move my mouth up and down and stroke his shaft with one of my hands as I brace myself against his strong abdominal muscles with the other.
“Fuck, that’s it,” Brax groans, filling me with pride. I’m sure this isn’t the best blowjob he’s ever had, but I’m pleasing him, and that’s all that matters.
Show me how, Daddy. Teach me.
As if reading my mind, Brax threads his strong fingers through my hair and guides me up and down on his cock. I force myself not to gag each time he presses me down on his immense girth. I can barely take it, but I love it at the same time.
I was made for this. Made to service him. To please him. Thank God he saved me from Josh, from that terrible date. Why did I even let myself get into that in the first place?
Brax has been right about me all along. I deserve better, don’t I? But do I deserve him?
“Christ, Bella, you’ve got me close,” he grunts as I feel him swell in my mouth. His shaft is hot and hard. His smooth tip nudges the back of my throat, but I push back my gag reflex and force myself to relax. “I’m going to come in your mouth, Bella, and you’re going to swallow every last drop, understand?”
I wish I could cry out in excitement or look up at him, but all I can do is moan a reply. After all, my mouth is full.
When it happens, it’s beyond anything I could have expected.
The rush of his release is almost more than I can handle. I swallow and swallow and swallow as he fountains cum into my mouth and down my throat. His hips buck off the seat, driving his cock deeper, past the back of my mouth, past my gag reflex, causing my eyes to water like I’m hysterically crying.
Yes. Just like that, Daddy.
But it’s my job to please him right now. I swallow hard and fast, relishing the sweet and salty taste of his warm and sticky load. His cock throbs with each pump, and when he finally exhales and slumps back in his seat, I am flooded with a rush of emotion so intense, you’d think it was me that just climaxed.
When he pulls himself from my mouth, he shudders slightly. I giggle as I wipe my lips with the back of my hand and flutter my eyelids at him, blinking away the tears.
“So you must have done that before.” His voice sounds tired, like he’s just got done working out.
“No.” I shake my head, feeling like a soft-serve swirl of embarrassment and pride. “Never.”
“Damn. So you’re just a natural. I guess I should propose right now, huh?”
Before I can respond, he flashes a sly wink and me and turns his eyes back to the road. It’s a good thing too, because I’m pretty sure if he’d actually popped the question to me, I know what the answer would have been…
And it wouldn’t have been no.
* * *
Three Weeks Later…
My pencil whips across the page as I finish the hair on the portrait of the girl I’ve been working on for the last two days. Portrait number eight to be precise. Only two more to go until my set for the gallery is complete. I’m both nervous and insanely excited at the same time.
But my process has completely changed. Over the last twenty-one days, my confidence has greatly improved. Brax had one of the rooms in the house converted overnight into my own private studio, with floor to ceiling windows that open onto the back lawn, and I’ve been practically glued to my stool, hunched over my gorgeous artist’s table, sketching my brains out from dusk to dawn.
That is of course when I’m not spending time with Brax…
And oh, what a time we have.
It’s hard for me to see him as the Devil of Miami, the kingpin, any longer. When I look at him now, I see a complicated, sensitive man, sort of like a lion with a soft side meant only for me.
He deals with his business, most of which he keeps from me, but then he treats me like a queen. I’m learning to accept it—although sometimes I still question it—but he seems to love spoiling me rotten. I haven’t even made a dent in all the clothes in the walk-in closet, but a few days ago when he took me out to dinner, I finally found the guts to wear one of the diamond necklaces he bought me.
“They’re brilliant, but nowhere near as brilliant as you, babe.”
I almost died when he called me babe. I didn’t even know what to say back. Thankfully I was rescued by the waiter coming over to take our orders.
I wanted to say it back and tried to find a natural way to do so throughout the rest of the night, but every time I tried, I sort of froze up like my lips were made of ice. And I think I know the reason.
It’s because I’ve fallen in love with Brax.
I don’t know what I thought was going to happen when I went along with this—not like I had any choice in the matter anyway. But it’s happened. In fact, I’m head over heels.
The night after meeting with Amy, I started sleeping in his bedroom. We had sex before bed and he woke me up with his hard cock, and that became our ritual. Sex in the morning, sex in the evening.
At least.
He has a personal chef make dinner for us, but I make us breakfast now. I’m sure it’s miles behind anything he’s used to, but he lets me do it anyway, and I love him for that. I love him because he comes into the studio at least once a day to see how I’m doing and encourage me and clearly has a genuine interest in my work.
I love him because he asks me about my thoughts. He listens and gives me advice. I even opened up to him about my father, the way he abused me I was young, the way he left my mother and the way she treated me as basically a responsibility—like a dog that needed to be fed and taken care of just so the neighbors wouldn’t call the cops or something. And that’s something I’ve never spoken to anyone about.
“It’s not your fault, Bella,” he told me as the tears spilled down my face. “But it explains a lot about you.”
“What do you mean?” I cried as he held me in his strong arms.
“Your father mistreated you and caused you to feel like you deserved to be mistreated by men. Men like Josh.”
Wow. That was a moment.
I poured my emotions into him, into my work, and although I know it will take time, I can feel the healing process beginning. Feel myself beginning to grow, to transform into a new, stronger version of myself.
Just like Brax said I would.
But still, behind it all, there’s still that vicious little thorn of self-doubt that I haven’t been able to rid myself of. So many questions:
What if Amy doesn’t like my work? What if it’s the gallery’s worst show? What if Brax is just telling me I’m doing a good job when really he thinks he’s made a big mistake?
“Stop it.” I almost jump out of my stool when I hear his voice from the door. I turn and see him standing there. My heart flutters like it always does as he walks toward me, his thick arms bulging beneath his tank top. He’s sweating, clearly having just finished a workout.
“Stop what?” I ask innocently, knowing I can hide nothing from him.
“You’re doubting yourself again.”
“No, I’m not,” I protest in a silly voice as he catches me around the waist with his strong hands and pulls me close. I love how he smells when he’s been sweating and inhale deeply as he kisses me.
“It’s going to be fine.” He smiles. “Beyond fine. Stop worrying and enjoy the process. It’s your first show. It’s normal to be nervous. But don’t doubt yourself. You’re incredibly talented, Bella. And I can’t wait for the rest of the world to see your work. But right now, I just want to see you naked…”
His words buzz through me, and as they always do, his eyes seize me and cause my knees to go weak. How is it possible that I got so lucky? Imagine if I hadn’t agreed to go on a date with Josh? I never would have ended up in that bar that night, and then Brax’s eyes never would have fallen on me.
And my entire life would have been different.
I’m the luckiest girl in the world.
