His Control |18+

19| Vouyeur?

When they arrived at Senna's home, it was dark, and the night skies glistened with stars.

Balia had kept her space by the car's side door, nursing the slight bruise she had gotten from the hard push Senna had given her back at the restaurant. At that moment, she felt like she was eighteen again. Luca, after coming back from his drug adventure to seek sobriety, had offered to take her out to dinner.

She had forgotten how he struggled with a bipolar disorder that had gone untreated due to his disregard, and after having a heated argument on their way back home, he had shoved her hard. That night, he left and didn't return for several months.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the sound of the front door closing with a thud. Pushing herself up, she pulled the door open and made to carry the shopping bags. But someone was already there to do all that. She smiled weakly in appreciation before going into the mansion.

Senna was standing by the mini bar with a glass of iced brandy and was on a call again. She saw Tina making a beeline towards her with a smile.

"Hey, Tina," Balia greeted softly.

"You had a wonderful evening, didn't you?" Tina said as she tilted her head towards the back, gesturing towards the men carrying many bags on either side of them.

"Yes, I did," Balia said, even if it was a lie. She was already used to lying about her feelings and everything for most of her life.

"Let's do something fun tonight?" Balia raised her brows in askance. "A runway show!"

Balia shook her head and glanced at Senna, who hadn't even looked their way. "Are you sure? I'm really tired and—"

"Come off it!" Tina smiled. "We're going to get you into each of these dresses, and you're going to show me how you look."

Balia looked tired already. "But I already did that back at the boutique. I want to rest, Tina. Some other time? I'm sorry for being a killjoy."

Tina only squeezed her arm. "It's fine, Balia. I understand."

They finally got to her room, and the men dropped the bags on the couch before exiting. As soon as they were gone, Tina turned to her and sighed.

   "You grazed your knee, Balia."

Balia looked down at her knee. "I thought you didn't see that."

"Oh, I did. I did from the very moment I set my eyes on you. Did he do that?" She asked, definitely referring to Senna.

Balia laughed and waved it off. "It's nothing at all."

Tina's face softened, and she walked over to Balia. "I've been acting like I haven't noticed how strained things are between you both. I will also not ask about your encounter with him, but trust me when I tell you that Senna is a good man."

If he were a good man, he wouldn't have done all the nasty, unthinkable things to her. If he was a good man, he wouldn't have kidnapped her and denied her freedom. If he were a good man, he wouldn't have embarrassed her tonight.

But all Balia did was smile. "Of course. I get you."

"I know you don't believe that, and it's fine. Just hold onto what I said to you."

For the rest of the time that Tina spent rearranging her wardrobe, Balia watched her. There was nothing to do, so she sat in bed and stared at Tina till she finally fell asleep.
  
—

When Balia woke up, it was late at night. She could hear the sounds of crickets beating their wings against their body and the hoot of an owl in the distance. She was parched. Parched, and there was no water by her bed stand to drink from.

She decided to go to the kitchen. This was her first time doing that. She was scared. Senna didn't want her out of this room, but she was thirsty to death.

Okay, maybe she was exaggerating a little bit.

Slipping her feet into the clogs by her bedside, she padded her way out of the room, making sure to close the door quietly.

The hallway was dimly lit, with just a lamp at the end of the corridor. She felt for the walls as she walked, and when she finally got to the gallery, she looked around to see if anyone was out there.

All Balia had to sneak into the kitchen, grab a water bottle, and return to her room. No one was going to see her.

As she descended the ornate steps, she heard a sound and stopped immediately. She had gotten to the last step by now, so she hid behind the railings, her ears perked up for any sounds. Why did it feel like she was in a horror movie? This was shitty as hell.

The sound came again, but this time, it floated towards her ear, constant and undulating. At first, it was pants and sighs, and then later, she could hear moans and cries. Her eyes widened slightly, and she wondered who was having sex by this time of the night.

She moved away from the fence and let curiosity lead her. The sound came from the sunroom across the part of the house that led to the kitchen. She walked on her tiptoe till she was close enough to see whatever was going on.

Her face fell when she saw who it was. Senna.

He still had his shirt on, but his slacks had fallen from his waist and were held by his knees as he thrust himself into a woman. Balia could barely see who it was, but she caught a wisp of the dark hair that moved with each thrust he made.

She stood there watching as he kept going, pulling her hair and smacking her ass. She cried out again, telling him to go harder and deeper and faster. Balia had never felt so disgusted her whole life.

She didn't want to see more of it, so she turned away and walked towards the kitchen with quick footsteps. She pulled the fridge open and grabbed a water bottle before closing it and leaning back against the chrome device. She closed her eyes and inhaled.

Never did she think her life was going to take this turn. She had always hoped for a good romance to come her way. Trips to tourist attractions, kisses shared under the moonlight, walks, everything lovers did. But her bad luck had followed her into her adult years, and here she was, locked up in a mansion as the slave to a fourty year old hottie who fucked randos in his sunroom.

Peeling her back off the fridge, she promised to take things with doggedness. She had to be focused. Escaping him was the plan, and if she let things surrounding her weigh her down, she was condemned to remain with him till her death.

She opened the bottle as she stepped out of the kitchen and gulped down water to quench her thirst, and just when she brought it down, she realized she wasn't the only one in the room.

Senna stood before her, his shirt buttoned halfway down his chest, his hair ruffled, and beside him was...

Cenzia?

What the hell was she doing here? Hadn't she gone for a stupid meeting with her stupid clients?

If Balia was surprised, she didn't let it show. Instead, she brushed past Senna while ignoring the evil smile on her lips.

As soon as she got to her room, she locked it. She wouldn't let him touch her with those hands he had used to touch that woman.

Why did she feel a tiny bit jealous? It wasn't right. It was fucked up to feel jealous of a man you hated and feared with everything you had in you.

As she tried to sleep, she began to replay what she had seen tonight repeatedly. How he fucked her like it was his last, how she begged him to keep going, how she let him slut her over. How he inflicted pleasurable pain on her.

It turned Balia on. She couldn't deny that it turned her on. But Lord knew she wasn't going to masturbate to the disturbing scene. She wasn't ever going to. That was only going to prove that she was sexually attracted to Senna.