Taking His Own

by Jessica Wildblood

  I rip the t-shirt over my head. I’m already wearing my swimming trunks. My hands are itching to run themselves over her smooth and perfect body, her taut stomach, her sexy curves… but I’m already as hard as a rock, and I need to get myself into the water before I frighten the old dears out for their afternoon stroll along the shore.

  I run forwards as if I’m going to swing Zara into my arms and kiss her – but I keep on running, whooping as I head for the sea. “Race you!”

  “Hey!”

  There’s nothing she hates more than losing. I can hear the thudding of her feet against the sand as she catches me up, her long legs striding powerfully. She’s a delight to watch, and I can’t help slowing down as I turn to look at her. Everything about her is magical – her hair floating back behind her, the intent expression on her face which is part outrage and part laughter, the steady rhythm of her long legs beating the sand, the sunlight gleaming from her skin. Before I know it she’s shot past me and I’m checking out the tight curve of her ass as she pumps it, running as hard as she can to beat me.

  “I know what you’re doing, Chance!’ she calls back. ‘And you’re still losing fair and square!”

  I put on an extra burst of speed and reach the water a second after she hits it, shrieking in the cold and kicking up great splashing bursts. Droplets of spray catch rainbow sunlight in the air all around us. I catch her by the waist and finally give her that kiss. ‘You won,’ I admit, pressing my half-naked body close up against hers.

  “What’s my prize?” she asks, grinning as she feels how hard I still am under my swimming trunks.

  “I’m not sure you’re going to like it.” With one sudden jerk, I lift her up into the air as if she’s completely weightless and throw her out into an oncoming wave. Zara hits it face-first and comes up spluttering.

  “You bastard!” She splashes me with giant fistfuls of icy water. “You total prick!” She launches herself across the water at me, still spluttering. She’s just adorable like this. We’re evenly matched as swimmers – I’ve got her on strength, but she’s lithe and quick and her technique’s been honed by summer on summer of family holidays spent with her cousins on Sarawak, in Malaysian Borneo. It doesn’t take her long to catch me up. And then my hands are on her again, revelling in the slick smoothness of her skin under the water. She wraps her legs around my waist and I lift her up into the air.

  “I wanted to hire you a surfboard,” I tell her, my hands teasing underneath the thin straps of her bikini. “You could’ve taught me how to catch a wave. But the forecast said the surf wasn’t right, and I – I wanted everything to be perfect.”

  “It is,” she says, and takes my head in her hands, leaning down to kiss me so deeply that we both forget the foaming waves around us.

  She doesn’t know yet how much more perfect I’m going to make it, tonight.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Zara

  I let the hot water drum the last of the saltwater out of my hair. Thank god the B&B’s got a power shower. The little ensuite bathroom is sweetly decorated in a typical beachside house style: shells on the windowsill, turquoise tiles, sand-stippling on the yellow paint on the ceiling. It’s an adorable place, several steps above the youth hostel bunk I imagined we’d be crashing in. I have no idea how Chance managed to pull the money together on his shop assistant’s salary. I’m trying to relax and let myself be pampered, but it’s difficult. I’m not used to being treated this way. At home I’m always running around doing things for other people. Dad’s not exactly the home-maker type, and Mum, bless her…she’s never been a practical one.

  I wrap a towel around my hair and slip on the underwear I’ve chosen for this evening. I bought it especially, spending my birthday money before it even hit my account. I haven’t gone for traditional virginal white, but a deep silky purple that looks rich and glowing against my naked skin. I examine myself in the half-misted mirror, turning this way and that way to check how the unfamiliar lace sits against the curve of my bum.

  I try to picture Chance’s hands unpinning my bra later tonight. Working his strong fingers underneath the silk of my new panties. Sliding them down my legs, kissing his way up, and then –

  It’s everything which follows that I can’t imagine. I can’t even say whether I’ve decided to go ahead with it or not. Everything in me wants him, more and more, each time he kisses me and with every shuddering touch of his skin.

  But knowing that I could soon lose him forever – it’s already going to be painful enough. How can I give him everything?

  How can I kid myself that he hasn’t already taken everything that I am?

  I give my boobs an experimental squeeze in the mirror. I have to admit, I look good. The extra money I spent was worth it – even though I felt like an imposter in the expensive lingerie store, standing next to all the grown women in their fancy clothes. I pick up my new dressing gown – silky and purple to match – and tie it around so that not a hint of my underwear is peeping out. Chance is going to have to unwrap me if he wants a peek.

  He’s waiting for me on the bed. Shirtless, wearing nothing but his jeans. His hair’s still damp from his own quick shower, and tousled over his eyes. I could just launch myself at him now and lick my way up from the taut lines of his hips, over those well-defined abs, to bite a piece out of his neck.

  But I don’t. I sit down at the edge of the bed and let him take my hand. I don’t want to let lust overtake us – yet. We need to make a decision that fits us both.

  A decision that isn’t going to break either of our hearts.

  Chance’s eyes lick me up and down and he starts wordlessly stroking a circle in the centre of my palm. The touch of his hand feels so good even there that I need to distract myself. I look around the room – the wide French windows opening out over the sea view, the four poster bed. God, this place is fancy. Mariam would be green with jealousy if she knew.

  “Chance, this is all so wonderful,” I say. I can’t keep the hidden note of reproach out of my voice. As much as I want to relax and enjoy everything, I know he shouldn’t be spending this much money on me.

  A slow grin lights up his face. He’s reading my mind. “That brings me on to the next surprise I’ve got in store for you, princess.”

  He hands me a brown envelope. A business letter, printed on the thick paper that lawyers and businessmen use. The kind of men who’ve got money to burn and want you to know it.

  I read through it, but the legalese makes my eyes blur. It may as well be in a different language. There’s something about a contract, services rendered, a product whose name I recognise – it’s Chance’s project, the one he’s been up at night working on for the past year while every other teenager in Mayhew’s either doing their homework or out getting drunk. I don’t fully understand how it works but I know it has to do with internet security and online banking systems. Chance thinks about computer programming the way most people think about breathing. It comes to him naturally; a complex process, a chemical interchange, that happens almost without any conscious thought.

  Now I’m holding ink and paper, evidence in black and white, that all his hours of labour have paid off somehow, but my mind is failing to grasp the words on the page – or the size of the number at the end of it. There are a lot of zeroes there and I can’t decide right now if that’s a good thing or a bad one.

  I recognise Kelsey Technologies – that’s the name of the company Chance has set up with his adopted brother, James. I recognise a name, Bruce Green – that’s someone whose family I’ve occasionally read about in gossip mags. There are six signatures at the bottom of the contract and one of them belongs to Mr Green. One is James’s. One is the familiar looping cursive that I recognise as Chance.

  My mind returns to that figure at the end. It slides around and back towards those numbers – more money than I’ve ever touched in my life before.

  “James found us an investor for the Mayday Security program,” says Chance, looking at my co
nfusion with amusement. “It’s a guy called Bruce Green. A proper businessman. He’s brought in two other investors. They’ve set us up with the capital to develop our program properly and start selling it to banks. Mr Green’s got contacts with HSBC and Natwest – James met with them last week. They said they hadn’t seen anything like the Mayday program before. They’re really interested, Zara. It’s all taking off.”

  My finger hovers over that number at the bottom of the page. I can’t take my eyes off it. “Chance, what the hell…”

  “It’s the company’s money,” he says. “It’s not the same as having it in a bank account. But James and I own the company.”

  He takes back the contract and slips it carefully into the envelope, as if the paper is as valuable as the money it represents. When he turns back to me, his eyes are deadly serious. I’ve never seen this expression on his face before. It almost terrifies me. He’s so intense, so quietly powerful, that I can’t tear my eyes away from him.

  “This is my plan,” he says quietly, putting his hand on my waist to pull my body close, close against his. The only thing between our bare skin is the silk of my dressing gown, and I can feel the heat rising from his rock-hard chest. “I need a few months to set everything up and get the Mayday program functioning properly. Then, once it’s sold, James can hire some technicians to fix any problems that come up when it’s in use. He won’t need me anymore. I can sell my shares in the company and use that money to start our life together.”

  “Why would you sell your shares?” I ask. “Chance, this is your dream. You’ve worked so hard for this. I don’t understand.”

  He touches a finger to my bottom lip and gently traces the shape of my mouth. “In six months’ time I’ll have made all the money we could possibly need, I promise you. Then I’ll leave the business to James and come to Malaysia. My only dream now is you, Zara.”

  “You’ll come with me?”

  I can’t take it all in. There’s every chance that I slipped in the shower and cracked my head – that I’m stuck in one of those Hollywood comas where everything is a beautiful dream.

  If this isn’t real, I don’t want to ever wake up.

  “Your family will never forgive you if you don’t follow them,” says Chance. “We both know that. Well, I’m luckier. Mine understand – they know how much you mean to me, Zara. I could never live without you. You know that, don’t you?”

  I kiss him then. I can’t wait any longer. His hands move over my body, pulling me closer, sliding smoothly over my dressing gown and exploring the curve of my ass. A soft thrill begins in the pit of my stomach. I’m starting to believe it might be possible. Chance Madison is going to be mine – not just for a few short months one teenage summer. Forever. For the rest of my life.

  “Can you wait for me?” he asks. “It’s half a year, Zara – it’s going to feel like a lifetime. But once it’s over we’ll have everything we could ever want. We might even be millionaires. We’ll be able to fly home and visit my parents whenever we like. I’ll be able to pay for you to go to university in Malaysia. Anything you want – anything you can think of – I swear to god I’ll give it to you, if you just wait six months for me out there.”

  “I would wait a lifetime for you,” I tell him.

  I mean it – then. I mean it more fiercely than I’ve ever meant anything before. Sometimes, afterwards, I’m going to believe those words doomed me. That I spoke my own curse.

  But in this moment the world tastes too perfect for words. We’ve gone from being on the brink of goodbye forever to never letting each other go. His kisses – the touch of his tongue on mine – everything is filled with a new sense of possession that lights a fire in me I’ve never felt before. I’m soon moaning under him, and I realise that not only is all my restraint completely forgotten, but there’s no reason left to remember it.

  “Zara,” he gasps, holding my face between his hands as if I’m the most precious thing he’s ever set eyes on. “Zara, I want you so fucking badly. You need to tell me when you’re ready, because every night I can’t own that sweet pussy it kills me a little more.”

  I lift my hips up under him, feeling the thick bulge of his dick through his jeans. He closes his eyes and groans as I rub myself against him. God, he feels so good even now. I’ve never been more ready. My legs wrap around his automatically and pull him closer in. My whole body is aching, aching for Chance.

  “I want you now,” I tell him. His eyes widen. He doesn’t ask whether I’m sure. He can feel it in every tremble I make under him, every breath I take. He knows that I’m completely enslaved to the thought of his dick inside me. That I need to know, now, what it’s like to be truly his.

  “There are condoms in my bag,” I tell him. I might be confident enough to tease him with my body, but this first time I’d rather he puts it on himself. As he opens the box I slip off my dressing gown. Chance pauses, his jeans half-undone, frozen at the sight of me.

  “You are just…fucking…perfect,” he murmurs, half a smile curling his lips.

  “Now you,” I grin, nodding at his jeans. He grins, flexes those muscular shoulders, and strips off to stand in front of me fully naked. His dick is rock-solid, standing tall and proud, and for the first time I start to really think about how big it is. My legs cross a little. It’s so thick. Even his finger inside me is sometimes a little much. I have no idea how this is going to work.

  Chance slides the condom over himself and comes to kneel on the bed between my legs, parting my knees. “Don’t be frightened,” he says. “This is us. We’re the perfect fit, princess.” He kisses his way up my legs, gently easing my panties down. I shudder as his hot breath moves teasingly over my pussy, before he works his way up my stomach, over my breasts, gently biting his way up my neck. My body is arching under him. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m going to make you lose your mind on my dick, Zara.”

  A wave of pure pleasure rockets through me. It’s not his dick – not yet – his fingers are working smoothly over my clit, stroking me again and again. Exactly the way I love it. God, he knows me too well. I clutch at his shoulders and bring his earlobe down to my mouth so I can nibble on it as I whisper to him, tell him just how incredible he is.

  I’m trying to quell the shiver of relief I felt when I realised he wasn’t fully inside me just yet. I’m getting nervous – oh, but it’s hard to be nervous when Chance’s hands are working me like this. My pussy contracts in delight as he slides a finger into me. It curves upwards, hitting a spot that sends liquid fire up through my stomach. He pumps me there firmly and I buck up into him, coming alive with pleasure. Fuck, I could take this forever. The idea that there’s more than this seems insane. I could just about explode with the pleasure of it.

  Chance kisses me roughly, his tongue deep in my mouth, and moves above me, his arms pressing me into the bed. I’m shaking under him, my head thrashing from side to side and my hips rocking underneath him. I’m so close to coming I can hardly breathe.

  A new rush of heat covers my pussy. He’s sliding his dick over me, taking his time, letting he feel the full hard length of him without slipping it inside. My legs are spread wide underneath him. The wetness between my legs coats his dick, leaving him smooth and slick to glide over me. It feels amazing – but it’s not enough, not yet. I want more. I’m ready for more. The need that’s building up inside me now is wild and uncontrollable. It’s all I can do not to reach down and grab his hips, bring him thrusting inside me as hard as I can. Chance’s self-control is absolute. I have no idea how he does it. But I can tell how much he loves my pleasure. The look in his eyes as he watches me moan is almost enough to send me over the edge.

  We’re like that, eyes locked onto each other, when he finally gives in to what we both need so much. His dick finds my aching, wet hole and slowly, slowly, he fills me. Slowly, slowly, he slides all the way inside me.

  I can’t help a cry of surprise and pain leaving my mouth.
Chance holds himself completely still, letting me get used to this feeling. His eyes flutter closed with the strain of keeping himself from moving. “Oh god, Zara,” he groans. “You’re everything. You’re everything.”

  He plants gentle kisses on my eyelids, my cheeks, my neck, my mouth, sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and bites softly, and while he kisses me he’s started moving, so softly that the only way I know is by the ripple of strange pleasure that’s coming from somewhere deep inside me. Somewhere new. Somewhere that’s only his.

  I gasp again. Chance’s eyes fly open.

  “Don’t you dare stop,” I tell him.

  It hurts with a strange burn that’s almost indistinguishable from pleasure. I hardly know how to move under him, can hardly do anything more than lie there and feel what’s happening to me, but Chance seems to know exactly what to do. He slides a hand under my hips and tilts me upwards so that the rush of sensation is even more intense. His rhythm’s getting stronger now, deeper. I feel so stretched open, so filled with every thrust that I’m amazed I can handle it – but I do. More than that, I love every last inch of him. A cry bursts out of me every time he drives himself inside, but there’s no pain left in there now. This feels so fucking good I’m forgetting my fear, my nerves – forgetting everything I am except the tight, hungry part of me wrapped around Chance’s perfect dick.

  His other hand comes up to pinch my nipple and a crackle of lightning bursts between my pussy and my breast. Each breath is getting harder to take now. Every thrust is like the crest of a wave at the surface of the ocean – the current of pleasure underneath it is constant and powerful, a roiling, overpowering tidal force. I could drown in this.