She’d come all this way and had done so much completely out of character just for a chance with this man... and he was kicking her out!
The old Beatrice would have turned tail and run home defeated.
But the old Beatrice was no longer around. This was a new, improved Beatrice and she wasn’t going to take it.
Anger and heat pulsing through her, she got in his face. She could see that her behavior surprised him when his eyes widened.
She reveled in his reaction.
She poked his chest and shouted, “I’m not leaving until you fuck me!”
Chapter 10
Make me want you
Beatrice was on her hands and knees in the center of the bed. Naked and exposed.
She was trembling with anticipation. Dripping with liquid desire.
Zion knelt behind her, and the heat of his body inflamed her untamed desire. His breath fanned against her ass and pussy before his lips and tongue tortured her most exquisitely. She threw her head backward and arched her back as she moaned.
She spread her thighs wider, cocked her ass up and pushed her bosom down to the mattress to afford him even greater access to her weeping flower.
“Please, Zion,” she begged, not even sure what she was pleading for.
But Zion knew. He always knew… And he did not fail to deliver.
From the hard, throbbing bead at the apex of her sex, he licked up and up until the tip of his tongue probed her uncharted rosette. Both her holes clenched in reaction as she shuddered harder for this wicked man.
He laughed, delighting at her uninhibited desire. He spread her ass cheeks wide and concentrated his naughty tongue lashings upon her backdoor as his fingers dipped into her slick vagina, filling the void that made her squirm.
She pushed back on his face even though this new sex play was taboo to her. With Zion, nothing was off the table, giving her full liberty to enjoy herself.
She let her behind bounce upon his tongue, and he slapped her ass, praising, “That’s it, my naughty girl. Take what you need.”
So that’s precisely what she did.
Eventually, her clitty ached unbearably, and she needed his mouth there. Fortunately, as always, Zion knew what Beatrice needed even before she did.
“Oh Zion,” she whispered when his mouth closed around her vulva.
His tongue searched and lapped at her lady entrance then moved to trace her flower’s lips.
He divided them with his tongue and curled around her clit.
She almost collapsed with the onslaught of sensations. The orgasm uncurled low in her abdomen and flourished outward to singe nerve endings she did not know she possessed.
Then his mouth was gone, replaced by the weight of his cock resting against her feminine flesh.
“I must have you now,” he declared. “No more waiting.”
The decibels of his voice left no doubt about the need that he felt for her.
She trembled with the force of it and with the knowledge that she would finally get exactly what she’d been craving.
“Yes,” she cried her consent, equally devastated with need.
He would finally take her with the vengeance she’d wanted.
The tip of this cock pushed against her willing crevice and…
Then the doorbell rang.
The teenager’s masturbatory fantasy shimmered and collapsed.
Ding-dong.
The internal cry bounced off the walls of her mind.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
The erotic reverie shifted then melted into nothingness at the interruption as the intruder continued to ring the doorbell.
Beatrice scrambled to hold on to the mental images, but it was a lost cause.
She sighed in disappointed frustration before opening her eyes. The sight of a patterned green and yellow bedsheet greeted her.
The doorbell rang once more, and the house descended into silence.
She was in bed on her hands and knees like her mental musings demanded. She had refrained from touching herself, letting the fantasy build and take her to the pinnacle.
But cut short, she was left dangling on her climatic cliff.
Her nipples were hard, and her skin was crawling with the overload of feeling. Just the thought of getting fucked by Zion was enough to push her to the verge of something great and exciting.
She contemplated masturbating her to get herself off but dismissed that idea.
Her orgasms by her hand had begun to wane in intensity and left her wanting more rather than feeling sated. She knew she would only become more irritated if she had to take herself to the finish line now.
She shifted restlessly and felt the lips between her thighs rub together, slippery from the liberate lubrication pouring from her center. She was literally hurting with desire for Zion. A stubborn desire that kept her selfish and wanting.
She let her body drop onto her back on the mattress, flinching at how sensitive her skin was against the fabric of the sheets.
She gritted her teeth from how unfair it was!
It was late afternoon, and she had only caught a few glimpses of Zion today as he came and went out of the house.
It had been two days since she’d informed him, in no uncertain terms, that she would not leave his house until he fucked her.
And it had been two days since he had been wearily avoiding her… That is when he was not wantonly displaying the fact that he was fucking other women right under her ears and before her eyes.
He plainly refused to take her yet gave these women ecstasy time and time again, and Beatrice could not understand why.
He was not committed to any of those women, and he had so many different kinds of women that he did not appear to have a specific type physically. He’d had at least five women in the house since she caught him in the garden with the tattooed babe and none of them had looked anything alike.
Some of these women had even resembled her, so what gave?
The only thing these women appeared to have in common was that none of them seemed to have scruples or feel any embarrassment about being so obviously sexual. They didn't hide or blush in mortification when they realized that Beatrice heard or saw them with Zion.
Beatrice would have behaved completely differently if it were her instead of any of those women. Beatrice would have been shy, timid, perhaps even nervous.
Was that it?
Was that why Zion refused to fuck her?
Was she too decent and proper for him?
She looked down herself… at the plain pair of shorts and t-shirt that she wore.
The women that Zion brought home with him did not dress like she did. They wore tight, short, obviously-expensive dresses and skirts. They wore makeup that made their eyes look mysterious and alluring, and gave their lips a pouty effect while Beatrice had never worn makeup a day in her life. They spread their legs without even a command from Zion while Beatrice still got red in the face at just the thought of being kissed by the man.
It suddenly became so very obvious to the frustrated teen.
Of course, Zion refused her!
She was not nearly bold enough for him.
He wanted a woman that was not afraid to be completely uninhabited no matter where he wanted her. A woman who was so wholly confident in her body that she was not ashamed to flaunt it. A woman that did not have to be persuaded into partaking in, or giving into extreme debauchery.
To become the kind of woman that Zion wanted, Beatrice realized she had to become more bold.
More sexy.
More slutty.
More…
Just more.
That was the kind of women the man wanted, and that was the kind of woman she was now determined to become.
Beatrice rose from the bed with purpose then, more energetic than she had been in the last two days. Heck, in her life.
It was time to transform herself.
Chapter 11
Snack and a half
Clo
thing shops were different here in the big city compared to what Beatrice was used to back home.
They seemed to have a mall on every corner here while her hometown didn’t even have one. The clothes she saw displayed in the windows here were not the type that the four clothing stores she knew stocked. Those were functional, drab in color and could never be described as even remotely stylish.
Here though, colors were bold, options were unlimited, and most items seemed to have no purpose other than pure aesthetics.
Beatrice realized that she had no idea where to start with her impromptu shopping adventure.
She’d come very optimistic but was now intimidated by all the hustle and bustle.
Feeling small in the crowd of people that moved past laughing, smiling and gesturing wildly, Beatrice eyed her choices. She’d tried to ignore how fashionable everyone else was while she was clothed only in a pair of distressed cutoff jeans and a cotton shirt with a graphic design of a Ferris wheel in the center of her chest. It was hard to ignore the stares of those who eyed her, apparently figuring out that she did not belong.
Overwhelmed, she ducked into the store closest to her. The doors were motion activated and welcomed her inside.
There were mannequins dressed in the windows, so she figured it was a safe bet.
As soon as she stepped through the doors, it was like she’d entered a different world.
The outside world became muted as the double doors slid shut with hardly a sound. Cool air fanned her cheek, and a sweet floral scent cocooned her.
Soft music played in the background, something hip and catchy and she fought the odd instinct to tap her feet in time to the rhythm.
There were a few other women in the store, but no one paid her any mind as they examined and selected their options.
Feeling a lot calmer and chagrined at her earlier panic, Beatrice moved around the displays.
Her fingers aided her eyes as she touched patterns and fabrics that caught her eye.
Nothing held her attention. Not until something blue shimmered in her peripheral.
It was a sleeveless sequined dress proudly draped upon a mannequin, which struck a saucy pose. The design was simple, yet the way it hugged the figurine’s curves was mind-blowing.
Beatrice fingered the sequined dress and was pleasantly surprised. It wasn't harsh or rough in texture like she’d expected, but rather soft and smooth. As her fingers moved over the fabric, it shimmered and sparkled when the individual pieces caught the light.
She’d never considered wearing a garment such as this before. In fact, only a few weeks ago she’d have dismissed it as impractical and childish.
But today, she wondered what she’d look like with it on.
“Super cute, isn’t it?”
Beatrice almost jumped out of her skin when the lively voice came from just behind her. She turned to find a tall, young man in a suit eying her with interest and warmth.
The jacket was missing from his suit. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, and his tie was loosened. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up to expose colorful tattoos, and the entire outfit fit like it was made just for him. He gave off a relaxed chic vide that made Beatrice aware of how shabby she was next to him, but his gaze was non-judgemental as he assessed her.
His grey eyes were very light, and the vivacity in them made her feel like he could somehow pluck every thought out of her head. It was not an invasive feeling though. Instead, it felt like an invitation to share juicy secrets and giggle over a glass of wine.
Beatrice did not know she wanted that sort of interaction with someone until then.
“The dress. Do you like it?” the man prompted when she just continued to look at him.
“Yes,” she stammered, clearing her throat. “It is very nice.”
He smiled, brushing off her awkwardness.
“Welcome to Petal’s Paradise. My name is Todd, and I would like to be your personal shopping assistant today. Tell me, what are you looking for?” he said.
Beatrice blushed but forged on. “Actually, I have no idea what I'm looking for. I only know how I want to feel when I am wearing it.”
She expected a look of skepticism, but Todd's grin only grew wider. His energy went up a notch and seemed to radiate from the tips of his expertly styled blond hair.
“Wonderful, and how do you want to feel?”
Her face grew hotter, but she continued, “Sexy. Bold. Like a woman.”
That was not much to work in her mind, but Todd clapped, delighted. He began gesturing animatedly, clearly excited. “Oh honey, you are too precious. Does that mean I get free reign to work my magic?”
Beatrice had no idea what that meant, but she nodded anyway.
“You’re going to look like a total babe when I’m done with you, darling! This is going to be so much fun.”
With that, Beatrice placed her trust in the blond man and followed him.
He gave her outfit after outfit to try, making her model each for him and giving his opinions on whether he thought they suited her.
He used words like:
“You’re a snack and a half.”
“Slay, honey, slay!”
“Your bum looks marvelous in that. Perfect peach!”
She started having fun, anticipating each new outfit and Todd’s commentary on it.
Todd magically made champagne appear, and the bubbles teased her nostrils and made her feel giggly. She didn’t fight the giddy feeling like she would have in the past but went with the flow instead.
Todd's enthusiasm was infectious, and she gave in to his chattiness, even going so far as to confess the initial reason for her shopping trip and her plans to seduce her father's best friend.
Todd's eyes sparkled with the scandalous confessions, but he didn’t discourage her. In fact, he broke out a few more dresses that were “just the right amount of slutty,” according to him.
She had no idea what that meant until he showed her the tight and strappy ensembles that revealed just enough to tease but not enough to expose every single one of her assets. At least, not all at once.
Dressed in a tight, red dress that reached her mid-thigh, Beatrice twisted this way then that, looking at herself in the mirror. The dress almost appeared conservative at the front as it completely covered her bosom and a decent amount of her lower body. But once she turned to the side, that description completely went out the window.
The sides of the dress were held together by thin ties that crisscrossed. The ties started high on her hip and went all the way down to the hem, giving one tantalizing views of her creamy skin.
Todd whistled and mused as if to himself, “If I were into girls, I’d make a play at getting into your panties. Lord help that poor man when he gets a look at you.”
She smiled, the kind that would make any straight man want to solve her mysteries.
Beatrice found herself caressing the line of her curves in much the same way the clothing did.
“I definitely want this one,” she told Todd.
The pile of dresses she chose grew bigger after that. All the pieces were far sexier and far bolder than anything she’d ever owned before in her life. Sexy underthings were also added, along with sandals.
She even got the blue sequined dress.
“Told you, you were a bomb ass bitch,” Todd said and, looking at herself in a pair of jeans that hugged her ass to perfection, Beatrice had no choice but to agree with his assessment. She could hardly recognize herself.
She wondered what Zion would think when he saw her.
Would you like what he saw?
Would he get turned on by her wearing these sexier, bold outfits?
Would he want to tear them off her and have his wicked way with her?
She definitely liked that last mental scenario.
When she paid the bill, she refused to feel guilty about the exorbitant price tag that it gathered.
She and Todd exchanged numbers, planning to meet up for drink
s while she was still in the big city.
With bags filling her hands, Beatrice left the shop in a red dress, feeling like a new woman.
Then she went to get her hair and makeup done at a store only a few doors down that Todd had recommended.
She even got a bikini wax before she left the mall late in the evening.
It was dark out when Beatrice got back to Zion's place. The personal driver Zion had hired to bring her around when she needed drove off with a wave.
She smiled when she noticed that he eyed her ass before turning the corner.
She was feeling great about herself and about her choices that day as she entered the vast house. She’d gotten her hair cut into her short bob, and the beautician had suggested a few highlights. Her face was artful, made up with smoky eyeshadow and red lip stain.
She had gotten a few pointers from a buxom woman on how to apply the makeup herself, adding yet another bag of supplies to her shopping trip.
Beatrice felt genuinely sexy, and it was reflected in the way she moved.
She had just stepped into the kitchen when she ran into the man she was determined to get into her bed.
Her presence went unnoticed for a few seconds, and she took the opportunity to appreciate how good this man looked. Dressed in all black - jeans shirt and jacket - no one could tell he was over thirty years old with the slim fit of his clothes and the male power that emanated from him.
She bit her lip, imagining having all that power drilling between her thighs.
She lowered her bags to the floor, and the noise gave her away.
His car keys jiggled from his hand before he caught sight of her but the sound abruptly stopped when he did.
His whole body froze, and his eyes grew wide.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
“Beatrice?” he said as if he could not believe it was her.
She twirled, ensuring he got a review of the side of her red dress. “Do you like it?”
“It’s uh… That is, uh, you look…”
He cut himself off when he realized that he was stumbling over his words.
Beatrice could have jumped for joy at the effect she was having on him. At last, she was getting somewhere with her plan to have this man.
Trixie Provoked Page 6
