I cut her off.
“Let me have my realtor show you some places,” is my growl. “Trust me, I have a really great broker.”
Carrie laughs breathlessly for a moment.
“Mason, I don’t think your realtor can find any places in my budget.”
My head shakes. Does the girl still not know me? Does she still think that I’m going to let her stay in some shithole forty minutes away because of money?
“You’re not paying for your place,” is my definitive statement. “I am.”
And there’s a long pause on the other end of the phone. I can hear her breathing deeply, collecting her thoughts.
“Mason, that’s very generous,” she says before pausing again.
“But?” I anticipate the second half of her statement.
“But this isn’t in the contract,” she says firmly. “You don’t have to do this. We decided it was going to be a social contract, that I’d go out with you, spend time with you, and let you dominate me,” she says in a low voice. “You don’t have to pay for my housing.”
That’s where she has it wrong.
“No baby, I do,” are my silky words. “I need you in my bed, and the sooner the better. If you’re coming in through the Midtown Tunnel, that’s too long. I need easy access to that pussy, sweetheart. 24/7. So we’ll be meeting with my broker,” are my flat words.
“But Mason,” she whispers again, slightly breathless. That’s right, sweetheart. I need that pussy and ass bad, and ain’t nothing gonna stand in my way.
“No,” is my flat statement. “Don’t argue.”
And for once, Carrie gives up. I can see it already. That little chin stuck out, lips trembling. But final is final.
“Okay,” she says softly. “And thank you.”
I grunt.
“You know exactly how to thank me, honey. Later. But for now, let’s look at some apartments.”
I can imagine the blush in her cheeks, how that pussy’s already starting to cream.
“I will thank you,” she almost purrs into the phone. “You’ll like it, I promise.”
Aw shit. Those words have my dick standing on end, desperate to be in her again. But shit, shit, shit! I’m at work. The urge to rub one out, right here in my office is strong. I want to get her on a Skype call and do some serious video sex, my stiffie needs it that bad.
But she purrs again.
“Later tonight, big guy,” is her dulcet promise. “You’ll like it.”
And fuck, but it only makes things worse. Because my dick jerks, a wet spot appearing at my crotch, growing larger with every second. Fuck fuck fuck! I’m gonna have to change, this is so fucking obscene.
And I’m just about to tell her to strip down and show me that pussy over the computer when suddenly a loud bang sounds from her side.
“Don’t slam the door, Nicole,” is Carrie’s exasperated sigh. Again, my girl’s ability to go from innocent to whore is amazing. Because right now, she sounds like a bossy mom, complete with annoyed scowl. My erection fades some, but that’s the least of my worries.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, eyebrow arched.
The brunette sighs again.
“Nicole wanted to go back and get some clothes, although I told her not to,” she says the last part louder, obviously wanting her sister to hear.
Oh shit. Oh shit shit.
“Did they hurt her?” I spit the words through my clenched teeth, my hand balling into a fist.
“No,” says Carrie flatly. “Rhonda and Jim are sober now, lucid once more. But they sold Nicole’s new clothes for money,” she says in a frigid voice. “They’re heartless, selling their little girl’s things. Nicole, I’ll buy it for you again, it’s not that big of a deal.” She speaks softly to her sister as a mother would.
And suddenly, resolve fills my big frame. I stand, looming tall in the office.
“Are you dressed?” are my clipped words.
“Not now, Mason,” she whispers in the phone. Because Carrie thought I was talking dirty, but it’s not that.
“No, sweetheart. We’re not talking about clothes. I’m coming to get you. We’re gonna look at apartments right now. This is what your sister needs.”
I stride out of my office, glancing at Rachel while waving a hand. She nods. My secretary will hold all calls while I’m gone.
And Carrie laughs then, a joyous, musical sound.
“I’ll see you when you get here,” the brunette murmurs before hanging up.
And in ten minutes, I’ve got my broker waiting, Carrie and Nicole on my arm.
“You ready to see some places?” I ask, eyebrows arched. “You ready to get your socks knocked off?”
Nicole shoots me a toothy grin.
“Yeah! Thanks Mason!” she practically bounces.
The first two apartments are less than stellar, probably only two thousand square feet. Fixing the broker with a stare, I ask for more. And slyly, Gina presses the ‘PH’ button on the elevator, like she was expecting this. Ah, my broker knows me too well.
The doors hiss open to a large open space with hardwood floors and windows lining every wall. The view is breathtaking, with pure, undiluted sunshine streaming through the windows.
Carrie gasps with appreciation, but it’s Nicole that’s confused.
“This is the lobby?” comes her small voice.
The broker shoots me a knowing smile.
“No, honey, this is the apartment,” Gina holds her arms out. “We’re standing in the apartment already.”
Because the penthouse is a full-floor space, the elevators opening straight into the foyer. But Nicole doesn’t get it.
“So anyone can just come up the elevator and come in? There’s no door,” she asks, confused.
But Gina waves a key.
“No, sweetie, I used this. Only you would be able to access this level. It’s all yours,” she states. Nicole gasps as the broker smiles knowingly. “Now let me take you on a tour. It’s absolutely beautiful, top of the line everything.”
And Gina’s not exaggerating. The penthouse is gorgeous, bright and airy with modern amenities, including a chef’s kitchen, two large bedrooms, each with its own en suite. The private rooftop patio is the cherry on top of the sundae.
“No furnishings?” I ask Gina once we’re back in the kitchen area, Carrie and Nicole still gabbing excitedly behind us.
“Whatever you like sir. Right now, it’s empty space, but we could bring in some furniture overnight if you prefer. It’ll be in move-in ready tomorrow,” she offers.
Good. This is exactly what the girls need. Or exactly what Nicole needs because I plan on Carrie staying somewhere else.
“Do you like it?” I ask my beautiful brunette. She turns wide brown eyes to me, filled with gratitude and something else. But before the girl can answer, her sister bursts in.
“I like it!” Nicole chirps and I chuckle, giving Gina the thumbs up to start the paperwork.
But something’s bothering my sweet thing.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” I tug at her wrist as she steps out onto the balcony.
“Mason, you know what’s wrong,” she says softly.
“I want you to have the best, sweetheart. What’s wrong with that?” are my rough words.
Turning to face me, she gestures to the view with one hand.
“We can see Central Park from here, Mason. This is crazy,” she murmurs. “It’s too much.”
But it’s not crazy, nor is it too much.
“No sweetheart,” I say in a low voice. “This is perfect for you. You deserve it.” And with that, I pull her into my arms, dipping in for a delicious kiss.
Aw fuck, it’s good. Her response is immediate, those sweet lips parting under mine, giving and full.
“Mason,” she sighs against me, nipples growing hard against my chest. “Oh Mason.”
I grind my hips a little, erection already stiff and hard.
“Fuck,” is my bitten off growl. “Your sister
and the broker are still here. Otherwise I’d fuck you right now, out in the open.”
And her cheeks go pink, boobies heaving quickly. But my girl catches on fast.
“I know Mason,” is her whispered admission. “And I’d let you do it, deep in my cunt.”
With that, I’m dumbfounded. Because there’s no more innocent little nothing, making like she doesn’t know. Instead, my cumbucket is admitting the truth. She wants to be my cumslut. She wants me to fuck her hard, again and again.
Oh shit.
How did things spiral out of control so fast?
I have to be in her.
Now.
But the broker’s voice interrupts our reverie.
“You guys ready to go?” Gina calls. “The sun is setting.”
And with a low growl, I take Carrie’s hand.
“Later sweetheart,” is my rumbled promise. “Later, that sweet puss is getting fucked.”
And she blushes again.
“Yes, Mason. Yes, absolutely.”
Oh shit!
But amazingly, we’re able to keep things PG in front of her sister. The ride back to my apartment is quick, just a few minutes in the car. And after a quick tour of my home, I show Nicole to the guest room. Strategically, it’s at the end of the hallway, practically soundproof and blocked by a house plant. The blonde’s blown away at the prospect of having her own room.
“Really?” she gasps. “This is all for me?”
I nod.
“Yep, until the new apartment’s ready. All you.”
Nicole’s eyes go wide. The girl’s in awe, and I catch her running her fingers across every marble surface she passes.
But still. A man needs food, and my stomach rumbles loudly.
“Hungry?” I ask, and both Nicole and Carrie nod enthusiastically. So like a real family, we order a bunch of Asian takeout, crowding around the dining room table with chopsticks in hand.
“You won’t like that,” Carrie warns Nicole about a shrimp pad thai. But the girl defiantly scoops a large spoonful onto her plate.
“Eww!” the blonde blurts out, spitting her mouthful into a napkin. Carrie merely rolls her eyes as I calmly help myself to more. I feel like we’re two parents with a misbehaving child.
“Come on, eat up,” Carrie encourages her sister.
“But there are peanuts!” Nicole whines.
The brunette frowns.
“Are you allergic?” I ask wryly.
“No, she’s just never liked them,” Carrie answers for her sister.
But Nicole jumps in then.
“They’re disgusting. The nutty flavor, ugh, gross,” she shimmies her shoulders while sticking out her tongue.
Carrie and I share a glance. We really are parents to an adolescent, someone with child-like tendencies.
“Come on,” Carrie says patiently. “Eat up. You’ll like it. Plus there’s lemongrass, your favorite.”
And slowly, Nicole takes another bite, chewing slowly before swallowing.
“So?” Carrie asks.
Nicole shoots her a grudging look.
“I guess it’s okay.”
My girl nods.
“Good, then finish your portion. It’s healthy for you, lots of nutrients.”
And I marvel how Carrie slips seamlessly between confidante, protector, mother and caring sister. How is this possible for someone who’s only eighteen? How in the world can she juggle so many roles without letting a ball slip?
And the brunette catches my eye, smiling slightly.
“You too Mason,” she admonishes playfully. “You eat too.”
With a growl, I’m on it. No weird food problems for me. In a few minutes, all the noodles are gone, as well as the delicious black bean broccoli and some fried rice for kicks.
But the food does something to me. Because as Nicole excuses herself to watch some TV, the taste of spicy sauce stokes a fire within. I need spice. I need Carrie, the desperation immediate.
And she can feel it. The brunette turns my way suddenly, brown eyes limpid. I take my time, admiring those thick thighs and voluptuous ass. Advancing slowly, my arms wrap around her waist from the back, pulling that softness to my stiffness. Oh yeah, there’s my erection, hard and full, pressing insistently in the small of her back. Subtly, I grind a little, Carrie’s eyes fluttering closed, her breath coming fast.
“The maid will clean this up,” I whisper in her ear.
The girl twists to look at me, big brown eyes limpid.
“It’s okay, I can handle it,” she murmurs. “I don’t mind.”
But I’m not taking no for an answer.
“I only have one night with you before your new apartment’s ready. So you’re not cleaning up, sweetheart,” comes my harsh growl. “Put that down.”
And suddenly, the fire in Carrie’s eyes burns bright with desire, meeting mine. Because my sweet sub is on the same page. We crave each other, the hunger wild and fierce. And even in this homey setting, with the table cleared and her sister in the other room, it can no longer be denied. I’m getting into that female body … tonight.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Carrie
In just twenty-four hours, my whole life has changed. Last night I spent countless hours online looking for apartments. They were cheap for sure, little boxy things with no sunlight and no space. But today, everything’s changed. Today, Mason rented a penthouse for me and Nicole.
And I appreciate it. The billionaire knows how much I love my sister. He knows what a hard life Nicole’s had, with little joy, affection or caring.
So to see the look on her face was priceless. The absolute wonder and awe, like a five year-old at Disneyland spying Cinderella for the first time. And I appreciate it. I’ll never be able to repay Mason for his generosity, and how he went out of his way for a member of my family.
And yet, I’m embarrassed. My parents have always been like this, and it never gets better. Jim and Rhonda drunk twenty-four seven, lurching around like idiots, my face scarlet as horrified citizens look on.
“I’m so sorry,” is my stiff beginning. “I’m so sorry for all of this,” I say, hand gesturing futilely. Nicole’s socked away in front of the TV, her door closed. Mason and I have retreated to his bedroom, the dark wood imposing, all navy blue and black.
The big man lounges casually in an armchair, sipping at a glass of amber liquid.
“No worries,” he says carelessly. “I’m just glad you’re out of there. I wish I could have done it sooner,” he speaks again, blue eyes flickering over my curvy frame. And right on cue, I go hot all over.
“You swooped in like a knight in shining armor,” is my grateful whisper. “Seriously like a knight slaying a dragon.”
He shrugs again, all careless male elegance, black hair rakish.
“You were screaming sweetheart,” he rumbles, blue eyes penetrating. “I heard you screaming, and Jim had to pay.”
I take a deep breath.
“I want to repay you,” is my rushed admission. “I don’t have money, you know that. But I want to repay you another way.”
The billionaire’s eyes gleam, darkly lustrous.
“What did you have in mind?”
The thing is, I’m not sure. Striptease? Offering to ride him? As a newbie, my repertoire’s not exactly advanced.
“Well, I thought,” come my hesitant words. “I thought.”
But the billionaire interrupts.
“How do you feel about anal play sweetheart?”
The air leaves my lungs.
“You mean like last time?” are my whispered words.
“Yeah like last time. But we’re working towards something bigger. Much bigger, if you get what I mean.”
My cheeks color, pussy moistening down below. Because last time, he crammed his fingers into my butt, but there was no dick. Instead, he merely let me feel and adjust, the penetration so delicious.
So I nod.
“I could do anal,” is my shy admission. “I think I
could do that.”
His eyes gleam again, that big body on alert.
“Good,” he says. “Go get that box from the corner of my room.”
My head whips around. What? What box?
But there it is, a wooden chest tucked discreetly on the dresser. And slowly, I lift the cube into my arms. It’s curiously light, almost like there’s nothing inside.
“Put it on the bed,” Mason instructs, elegantly still in that high-backed armchair. “Now open it.”
And slowly, I lift the lid. Oh my god! There’s all sorts of sex toys in here. Butt plugs. Dildos. Anal beads. And a couple things I don’t recognize, like a giant stick with an electrical cord. Oh my god. Suddenly, realization rushes through my frame. Because it’s a vibrator, one so huge that it plugs into the wall. I’ve only used tiny battery-operated rabbits in the past, so this is mindblowing.
Mason chuckles soundlessly from where he sits.
“You know what you’re looking at?”
I bite my lip, flushing.
“Yes. I used to watch porn on my laptop, just a little,” is my admission.
His low growl is immediate.
“Good. Because then you know how butt plugs work.”
A flush runs down my chest, making my boobies heat, cunt gush.
“I do,” are my words. “But why do we need one? Aren’t you going to put that inside here?” I ask, gesturing to his cock before waving my hand vaguely in the direction of my back door.
Mason’s laugh is harsh and soundless.
“Oh sweetheart, you think you can fit my cock in your bottom on the first go? Baby, try again. You need to get stretched first. A lot. My fingers weren’t nearly enough.”
Immediately, my cheeks flare.
“Of course you’re big,” is my quick reply. But Mason won’t hear it.
“Find the biggest butt plug in there and take it out.”
All the air exits my lungs.
“I’m sorry?” is my gasp.
But the billionaire’s relentless.
“Find the biggest plug,” he repeats slowly. “And take it out. Don’t make me say it again.”
Slowly, my hands reach inside, fumbling through the toy chest. Cold chains brush against my fingers, then something rubbery and soft. But finally, I manage to find an enormous plug, three inches long and at least two inches around.
The Dom's Secret: A Light BDSM Bad Boy Romance Page 11
