Tasting Candy

by Candy Quinn

  I can’t read any further. I feel nauseous, and I take a step back as my head spins around me.

  “Babe, are you alright?” Tristan says, striding over to me and reaching out, but I draw away from his hand, glaring at him in sudden indignation.

  “Don’t babe me, Tristan Delaney!” I snap at him, my blood boiling as I hold up the article in his face. “Is this all I am to you? Your next conquest in a string of girls across the world? Just some more pussy you thought you’d pick up on the road before going back to your manors?”

  His eyes narrow at the phone, and before I can react, he snatches it from me, setting it down on the side of the car and stepping towards me. I take a step back, but he isn’t stopping.

  “It isn’t like that, Sienna.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me any of this?” I say, tears in my eyes, stinging and salty as they run down my cheeks. I turn and start to bolt, but Tristan catches me around the waist and hauls me back. I pound on his back and kick at his chest after he slings me over his shoulder to carry me back to the car, inconsolable.

  “I was falling for you, damn it!” I cry, letting my limbs slump as I realize it’s useless. He sets me down on my feet, holding one of my wrists in a firm grasp. I pull away, but his grip is like iron. That stupid, gorgeous face is almost mocking my efforts as I fight against him. It must all be laughable to him. “I thought this was...we were…” I sob, trying to slap him across the face, but he catches my other wrist, wrestling my arms down and pinning me against the car. “What are you going to do to me?” I finally say to the man I thought I knew.

  “Explain,” he answers, his voice stern...yet sincere.

  I sniff. “What?”

  “I wanted you to see me for who I really am, instead of just assuming things about me from the press,” Tristan says earnestly, reaching for my hand. I snatch it away and he looks genuinely heartbroken, his mouth falling open with words he can’t quite find.

  “Who you really are?” I retort, my eyes filling with tears. “Tristan, everything I thought I knew about you — it was all a lie. Everything is just a cover story with you. It’s all make believe.”

  “But you’ve had fun, right? You and I — we’re good together. We’re real, aren’t we?” he replies, his gorgeous amber eyes shimmering with emotion.

  I choke back a sob and shake my head. “That’s the thing about make believe, Tristan. It’s fun while it lasts, but it’s only temporary. Eventually, the real world has to come back in. Remember when you promised me you wouldn’t do anything to have my picture land in the press? I thought you were just playing around, but you-you were serious, weren’t you? I was just supposed to be some silly secret of yours, right? You just wanted to have a fling with some nameless, faceless girl the press wouldn’t recognize. And guess what? You broke your promise. My picture is on the front page now, and I-I never asked for this! I can’t believe I let you make me think — make me feel — ugh! I thought there was something really here, Tristan,” I end with a sniffle. “But it was all just another game for you.”

  His face hardens, and he drops his hands to his sides. “So your mind’s made up.”

  I stare him down, face unflinching. “I want to go to a motel. Separate rooms. I want to get cleaned up, call someone, like my parents or my friends, get them to come pick me up, and...figure out how to get my life back together,” I say with a huff, marching over to the car and getting in.

  In awkward silence, Tristan starts the car and complies.

  The motel is nearly booked up. We’re given two rooms, just like I asked, but we’re told that the bathrooms are shared. We’ve hardly spoken a word to one another this whole way, and I’m not about to start now.

  We march to the rooms, and I take my key, fighting back more tears.

  “Doll, listen,” Tristan starts, but I’ve already unlocked my room and headed inside. The place is filthy, but not as filthy as the lies I’ve been fed over the past few days, so I lock the door, strip my clothes off, and head for the bathroom. A few moments later, some gracefully hot water is running, and I’m feeling the warm, clean shower was away all the salt, all the grime, and all the remnants of sex we had, down my bare breasts, between my thighs, and down the drain.

  I’m letting my tears flow freely here. I can’t believe this. Just when I was about to admit that I loved him. Do I still love him? Despite it all? No, I love the lies he fed me, those sweet lies of a renegade bad boy without a care in the world. But he was just going to dump me like all the rest of the women in his life.

  Then I hear the door on Tristan’s side open, and I cover my breasts and gasp, even though the glass shower is fogged up beyond visibility.

  “Get out,” I shout, but I can see that he’s walking in backwards.

  “I won’t look, Sienna,” he promises, and there’s something different about his voice. Something sincere. “I have to come clean.”

  I don’t respond, and Tristan takes a deep breath.

  “The article was right. I’m Tristan Delaney, youngest brother of an ancient dynasty of billionaires. And yeah, I guess I’m not exactly an apple falling close to the tree. But my family’s reputation follows me everywhere, Sienna. That’s why I dropped out of high school, told college to piss off. That’s why I came to America. I wanted to be myself. I wanted to find myself, and yeah, I screwed around along the way.”

  I roll my eyes, but then he goes on.

  “Then I met you, Sienna,” he says, and I turn my head ever so slightly. “I wasn’t lying about how I felt when I first saw you. From the second we were on the road, I knew I’d found myself. You help me be my most authentic self. Fuck, I’ve never felt so alive as when I’m with you, blazing down the road without a care in the world. I’m so sorry, Sienna. I wish I didn’t have to lie, but I wanted to show you the real me. I hope you’ll forgive me, but if you can’t...I understand. Just know that I love you.”

  There’s a pause that hangs between us for a long moment. Finally, I speak, my voice thick as I hold back the storm of emotions in my chest.

  “Come in here so I can tell you what I think for myself.” I hear him stripping, and he slides the surprisingly spacious shower door open and steps inside, ducking to keep from hitting his head on the top. I turn and face him, staring at him long and hard as the hot water wets his hair and runs down the sincerest, most gorgeous masculine face I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck, pull myself up, and kiss his stupid face deeply on the lips, feeling a moan of triumph erupt from my chest, primal instinct and overwhelming emotion winning the day.

  He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. And he knows it. His hand grabs my bare ass, yanking me closer to his hardening cock, and his tongue delves into my mouth to explore my tongue as his other hand goes to my hair.

  My hands travel up his sides and chest as if meeting them for the first time. I’ve fought so hard for something real in life, something sincere, and I know now that the realest thing I could possibly want is right here in front of me.

  His hand goes from my ass to my breast, and he pushes me away to look me up and down with those hungry, possessive eyes. I can’t help it. I’ve known I’m his ever since that gaze first fell on me. I’d be his victim even if he didn’t fess up to me, but the fact that he did makes this all the sweeter.

  He bends down and squeezes my hips, mouth going to my breast and devouring them ravenously. I let out soft moans as his teeth graze my hardening nipples, each brush, the slightest stimulation lighting my whole body up in a live wire of arousal. My pussy is so wet, and the warmth of the shower is only making it easier for me to get turned on.

  He feels me between my legs, fingers greedily invading my cunt and feeling just how ready I am. I grins knowingly, and I turn pink. He knows I’m helpless before him. He’s like a drug that I'm hooked on, his masculinity a downright intoxicating substance I want to get lost in and never find my way out of.

  Then I remember that the
whole world knows we’re together, and my abdomens tense as the very thought of that drives me close to orgasm. But as Tristan recognizes the telltale signs in my face, he withdraws his fingers, wagging them at me chidingly.

  “You won’t get off that easily,” he growls huskily, and I don’t have to wonder what that means. A mix of fear and excitement ripple up my body as he picks me up and presses me against the wall, hot water running between us as he holds me up, pinning me, exposing me.

  “If you’re going to be mine, doll,” he says, his thick tone husky, his accent like sweet sugar on his voice, “I want to hear it from you.”

  “Tristan,” I gasp desperately, “I’ve always been yours — I love you, Tristan, I love you so fucking much.”

  My reward is the full length of his cock pushing into my cunt as he lets me sink onto it, pinning me between him and the wall.

  His mouth lunges for my neck like a predator taking down a gazelle, and I let out a cry of ecstasy as he starts to pound up into me.

  My feet are dangling uselessly beneath us. His hands hold up my ass, feeling every inch of give on the wet skin as his mouth ravages my neck. His chest is brushing against my taut nipples, and I’m a ruined mess of pleasure as his spear provides the center of irresistible desire, that massive column rocking into me fiercely.

  It’s rough. We’re just fucking senselessly in a dirty motel in the middle of nowhere. No protection, no inhibitions, and finally, no more barriers between us. His cock pulses with hunger for me, and I let out a scream as his dark, bulging crown strikes my g-spot and draws out the honey in me, the first orgasm crashing through me like a tidal wave.

  “I’m yours, Tristan!” I gasp, clenching my pussy as he groans and bucks into me harder, using me like a toy in his hands, manipulating my body as easily as one. “I don’t want anything but you right now!”

  “You’re gonna have all of it, you lustful little doll,” he growls, his voice downright beastial. It’s like we’re on the car all over again, primal instinct taking over as he starts bucking into me with machine-like rhythm, nothing driving either of us but the primal need to breed.

  And Tristan is a male specimen unlike any other. He’s the alpha, the prime, the apex predator who’s taken me out of my comfort zone and fucked me senseless ever since. Nothing is better than being his prey, and he wants nothing but me. My form is imprinted on his mind, and his body reacts accordingly, a savage, unbridled lust that I feel proven in every pulse and twitch of that massive member nestled deep inside me.

  He’s delving into my deepest depths, and each of his thrusts takes another half-shouted yelp from my throat. My heart is pounding out of my chest, trying to reach his, and I can feel every one of his massive, Herculean muscles bulging and tensing with anticipation. He’s holding nothing back from me, and I can tell.

  I’m going to need some practice to be his woman.

  He relaxes his grip on my ass and lets me sink further, somehow, onto his cock, and I let out a shout as another orgasm wracks me, my fingernails digging into his back and leaving scratch marks as my toes clench and my back arches. This is a sweeter punishment than I ever could have asked for, ever dreamed for. My old hopes and lusts feel so stupid in hindsight. I never knew the reality that was waiting for me.

  Waiting to split me open with the ferocity of a lion.

  His instinctive thrusting grows faster and faster, less coherent and more of a wild mess, heedless of me or anything other than the biological urge to reproduce. His balls are tightening. I’m going to be his mate, his claimed woman in this wild world he’s tearing through.

  And as he bites on my neck, teeth digging sweetly into me while my nails streak across his back, nothing in the world could seem sweeter to me.

  I let out a loud scream that mingles with his groan as we come together. Pearly, priceless seed issues out of the tip of his cock like a fresh spring. I’m torn between wanting to lap it up or take all of it into my needy, fertile womb as he pours himself into me, his spout utterly unleashed. He grabs my hips and pulls me closer onto him as he lets more and more of himself pulse into my cunt, plastering the inner walls with thick, pearly, liquid white gold.

  I’m vaguely aware of him holding me up as he comes, and he bends me down, cradling me in his arms like a demigod carrying away a mortal as he angles me down to let more and more of his seed jet into me.

  I’m a vessel for him, his superior seed planting in me more sweetly than anything my hormone-addled mind could have thought up. I grasp desperately for his abs and chest as he spills out into me, and finally, after what feels like an eternity I never want to end, the flow subsides, and his cock rests inside me as we’re left breathing in the afterglow of animalistic sex.

  The only place I ever want to be from here on out.

  “Oh my god,” I breathe as I look out the plane window a month later, watching the English landscape below as we approach the London airport. It’s a breathtaking sight. Tristan gives me a gentle hug from my side, his huge arm more secure than the seatbelts of the plane as he chuckles.

  “Home sweet home,” he muses.

  I’ve gotten my parents’ permission to pack up and ship out with Tristan, and while it took some convincing, we’re heading back to his homeland to check out some universities. Tristan wants to keep his authority-free streak, but I want to be able to say I made the most out of what life has given me.

  And it’s given me so much, I think as I rub my belly. Tristan catches me doing so, and I’m not able to hide my expression of joy as he starts to open his mouth to ask.

  Before he can though, I just smile.

  “It’s a boy,” I say, and his face glows with pride, his hands wrapping lovingly around my hips. “I can just feel it.”

  “Have you taken a test?”

  I nod softly. In fact, I took it on the plane a few minutes ago, but I was able to keep it hidden pretty well, until now. There’s nothing that gets past Tristan, but I still get the pleasure of breaking the news. “But I already knew.”

  We’re launching into the newest chapter of our lives in the best way possible — I’m going to have as many children as Tristan’s limitless seed will put in me, and with his resources, we’ll have the very best environment to raise them in. And as for us, well, besides my schooling, engagement has been brought up more than once. We know we’re going to get married, probably back on Marble Mountain where we shared our passion together for the first time, but he hasn’t actually popped the question formally yet. He says he’s still working on the ring for that.

  It’s being specially constructed, in Monaco.

  William

  Book Themes:

  Dominance, First Time, Breeding

  Word Count:

  10,639 words

  “I said, remove your jacket, now.”

  I bite my lip as I look at the seriousness in the airport security man’s eyes, his stony face unmoving as I take a deep breath and slip my purse off my shoulder, stepping forward into the frisking area for what must be way more invasive a pat-down than they’d have back home in the States.

  Slowly, I slip my slim-fitting blazer off my bare shoulders, exposing my skin to everyone around me as I feel color come to my cheeks. This is a regular inspection, I tell myself, just a security precaution. The look on the customs agent’s face, though, tells me that he’s going to enjoy his work quite a lot today.

  And something deep inside me, something I know I should be quelching with all my might, tells me that I’m going to enjoy it too. That only adds to the embarrassment I feel, and my jaw sets, but as the guard sizes me up, devouring me with his eyes, I can’t deny the fact that something primal within me wants to take advantage of the fact that I’m miles and miles from everything I know and every inhibition I’ve built up over my life.

  Still, I hold my head high, my light brown hair held back in a loose ponytail, and I fight the urge to brush the stray tendrils of hair out of my eyes. It’s such a ditzy gesture, and I don’t want to te
ase the agent any more than I already am, but it’s too annoying to ignore, so I eventually give in, glaring at him with my blue eyes.

  I’m almost as tall as him, though, and I can tell that’s making him self-conscious. I don’t usually wear much makeup, but today, I’ve got some dark red lipstick on, and I use it to give him a somewhat smug smile with my full lips as he approaches me.

  “Arms up,” he says, and I obey, raising my long limbs up so he can pass his metal detector up and down me. Then he puts it away, and it’s his turn to smile smugly, flexing his hands as he steps behind me.

  It’ll be over in a little bit, Harper, I tell myself, chanting it over and over in my head. At least this isn’t a busy airport.

  That doesn’t help me when I feel his hands on my shoulders, though. There’s no way I can hide anything on bare skin! I fight the urge to grimace, but I still hear a low chuckle from the guy as his rough hands slip down my sides, feeling the soft fabric of my blouse as it hugs my narrow frame. I was the tall, awkward, gangly girl when I was in high school, but now well into adulthood, I’ve blossomed into... well, a slightly less awkward, still tall girl.

  His groping hands head down to my hips, and I brace myself for when he gives them a soft squeeze through my jeans, spending some time around the area of my pockets. I know he wants to stick his hands a little further up front to my crotch—even in grad school, I can’t get away from that. And this guy doesn’t seem to mind that there are at least three other security guards watching, so I shift uncomfortably.