“Mr. Marks,” she cooed wickedly. “Don’t you worry because I can handle all of it,” she hinted and immediately lust overtook my frame, making me shake in my shoes, skin vibrating at her closeness, her heat, her delectably ripe form. Did Daisy know what she was saying? All of my cock? All of the ten inches that was already hard, pulsing, ready to take her on the dining table right this instant? I stared at her, the brown curls, the sweet mouth, the sexy blend of woman and girl. She was everything … and I wanted it all.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Daisy
Girl, you are going to get burned so hard, the voice told me. No way are you coming out of this alive, are you crazy? He’s Tristan Marks, it’s like playing with fire, there’s no rescue crew to pull you out when the going gets tough. Are you ready for that? But I just shook my head. The truth was that I was already in way, way over my head. I’ve been playing with fire ever since I started talking with Tristan and unfortunately it was like an addiction, I was a pyromaniac who couldn’t take my eyes away from the flame despite the fact that it burned my fingertips, pricking painfully at nerve endings.
But it hurts so good, I argued back. Tristan makes me hurt so good and I want to find out what there is, what could happen, what might happen.
You’re fucking going to get it, replied the voice in my head nastily. You think he’s going to hold back? You think there’s going to be mercy? You’re going to be bent over and spanked so hard, pounded so hard that furniture’s gonna break, you’re going to break.
But it only made my heart leap faster, pulse jumping in my throat, making me quiver and shake. Because what my internal voice was saying was absolutely true. I was in way over my head, what with masquerading as Tristan’s wife and teasing him with the food. But that’s the thing. I only wanted more. I wanted to talk more about his background, to learn more about the big man. The conversation had flowed after the pie incident, light, easy, like we really were a couple and we’d laughed together, our senses of humor in tune with each other even as we ate each other up with our eyes. But the little warning voice was right. Despite his outward relaxation, the general air of indulgence, the big man had had enough. He’d said it out loud, he’d said it with his body, with his gaze, his warning to me rough and direct.
Get ready, Daisy, he’d growled with his eyes, his words, his throat. Get ready, because I’m coming.
But it only made me want it more, shivers running down my spine, my body heating in anticipation with how much I wanted him, how much I wanted to figure it out with him, get to know him, explore the unknown with Tristan as my guide. I was heady with desire, lost in a maze, tangled despite the fact that I knew I was going to be hurt, that somehow this was going to end up badly with me the probable loser.
Because the thing is that I’ve interacted with older men before and it hasn’t exactly been the best feeling. Older guys generally are more mature, wise and experienced, they’ve been to the rodeo before. Some women are attracted to it, they love being guided by the older dude but I usually just found it scary. Sure, it was all fun and games at first, the gentle older professor showing you around, making sure you understood the niceties of biology, of English, of whatever, but in a flash, the curtain could be pulled back and I’d realize I was out of my depth. Most times, he wanted something and I wasn’t ready to deliver.
Was that going to happen with Tristan? He was absolutely the older man, worldly, experienced, a thousand times more powerful than any man I’d encountered in the past. He was the CEO of an influential news conglomerate, had worked his way up from cub reporter to the head of the pack, likely ruling it with an iron fist. Sure he was playing with me now, letting me feed him peach pie, letting me ask my little questions, but I had no doubt that when the unmasking came, I was going to be off-kilter and unbalanced, if not straight up afraid. I was going to be way out of my depth and it might be too late, I might be entangled and ensnared in something that I couldn’t handle.
But flirtation is a devilish addiction. I was addicted to the games we played, teasing the big man, making conversation with him, sassing him with our banter, our connection so electric that sparks flew. And so I thrust the thoughts out of my head, instead stepping into the shower to get myself clean and prepared. Because Tristan was coming tonight.
We had our separate bedrooms in the suite but that was no barrier. He was coming for me, he was going to taste me, take me, take my virginity, and I was going to love it. I was going to eat it up, savor it, wallow in it, throw myself into the womanly induction. Hell, I was going to meet him step for step as best I could, hurl myself into the tiger’s lair, fight as best as I could, love as best as I could, beg him if that’s what it took.
And I couldn’t wait. Despite the warning bells clanging, I shushed the voices, changing into my usual sleep outfit of a translucent tank and little bootie shorts. I wish I had a negligee or some filmy lingerie, but nope, I was a bootie shorts and tank type of girl. But he liked me the way I was, right?
So I pulled on my usual knee socks and crept into bed, twisting on the sheets a little, trying to get comfortable. Tristan would be here soon enough and I willed myself to stay up, the adrenalin pumping, my anticipation on high. But the long drive had gotten to me, the tryptophan in the food drugging my system and against my best efforts my eyelids began to get heavy. Stay up! Stay up and wait for him! I scolded myself. But the voice only grew fainter as sleep overtook me, a drowsy, sinfully delicious sleep as I drifted lazily, my mind going white, then grey, then black.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tristan
What the fuck is wrong with you? The voice in my head raged. You are such a fucking manipulative, deceitful user, you want to fuck your own ward. Of all the women in the world, it has to be your ward, the girl you’re supposed to protect from guys like you.
I sat on the edge of my bed, shaking my head, big shoulders bent over, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down.
Because when the receptionist had assumed that Daisy was my wife, I’d been as startled as the little girl. Sure, I’m fit and healthy for my age, in great shape from hitting the gym five days a week and Daisy looked mature upon our arrival, in a sexy but demure turtleneck and skirt, long boots up to her knees. So maybe it was natural that people had thought we were a couple off the bat.
But the jolt I’d felt when the receptionist referred to Daisy as my wife was what caught me off guard. Because it hadn’t been disgust or horror or any sort of heebie-jeebies. Instead, my pulse jumped with the pride of ownership, of arousal, of the world assuming that we were together, that this little brunette, this curvaceous package belonged to me. And it’d been so long since I’d been attached to any human being whatsoever that to hear the little girl referred to as mine made me growl and snarl. Yes. Mine.
I wanted her. I wanted her bad, yeah real bad, and my fucking conscience of all things was tying me up in knots. What the fuck was wrong with me? I’d flirted so hard during our little midnight snack, watched her laugh, giggle, pushed my tongue down her throat as soon as I could, and now I was growing a conscience? Since when did this happen to Tristan Marks?
But part of me acknowledged that I wanted to do things right. That yeah, I wanted to fuck the little brunette until she screamed my name repeatedly, until her little cunt was used and pounded so hard that she couldn’t walk straight. But part of me also wanted to treasure her, to stroke those beautiful curves, hear her sassy moans while gazing at me with a combination of lust and love, panting my name.
And that’s what made me draw back. What the fuck was wrong with me? Lust? Hell yeah, that was nothing new to me, I’m a man with needs, I indulge when it’s appropriate and it when it’s not so appropriate, taking what I want when I want. But what the fuck was this love thing? What the fuck?
I just shook my head, torn. I wanted Daisy so badly, her little form beckoning to me, those curves ripe, luscious, the way they jiggled and shivered when I even looked at her, my shaft perpetually half-hard in her presen
ce, her mere laugh making me go iron hard. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t seduce her, I couldn’t.
I stood motionless in my room, clad only in loose pajama bottoms, body rock hard as I stared at the floor. Fuck. I paced, restless as a lion in its den, counting a few steps forward, a few steps back, swiveling as my thoughts pounded, making my forehead bulge. I literally forced myself to sit for a moment to try and relax, but it was pointless. Immediately I jumped up again, nerves too strung out to be still and started pacing once more, long strides eating up the room.
FUCK! I swore. This was never going to work. And grunting, I did it. With long, swift strides, I left my room and found myself in front of Daisy’s door, dark and silent. But to my surprise, it was open a crack and I nudged it aside a bit, letting myself into the darkened chamber. The brunette was there, I could see the silhouette of her curvy frame on the big queen bed, outlined in the moonlight, completely relaxed in sleep, one arm laying across her chest, as if protecting her heart. That made me draw back. Stop, get out now, said the voice. You can still do the right thing.
But at that moment, Daisy came awake.
“Tristan?” her voice murmured sleepily as she half-raised herself on an elbow, the vee to her tank drooping lower, giving me a glimpse of that beautiful, bare flesh.
And I was next to her in a flash, kneeling by the bed as if she was Sleeping Beauty and I was the prince here to make my case, stake my claim.
“Daisy,” I ground out. “I want this to be right for you. I want you to feel good, to be okay with this because this isn’t exactly kosher.”
She rubbed her eyes a little sleepily and looked at me with a half-smile, yawning.
“I know Mr. Marks, I know,” she smiled at me. “Don’t worry.”
And I leaned in closer, stroking her soft cheek with a big hand.
“You’re young,” I rumbled deep in my throat. “I’m not sure if you exactly understand what’s happening.”
And Daisy smiled sleepily at me still.
“I’m a woman Tristan,” she said, stretching languorously, making sure I got an eyeful of tit. “I’m a woman and I know exactly what’s happening.”
I leaned forward then, brushing my lips over hers.
“Are you sure honey?” I breathed as I traced over her mouth, letting myself taste the sweet honey of her lips. “Are you sure?”
And she moaned deeply into my mouth, leaning in, giving herself up to me.
“I know what I’m doing,” she murmured. And I devoured her then. I hoisted myself so I was sitting on the bed next to the girl, pulling her curvy form in my lap as I ran my lips up and down her neck, trailing the elegant S while stroking the sensuous orbs of her breasts. They responded immediately, the nips hardening under my touch, ready to cut glass and I rumbled low in my throat.
“You’re so beautiful,” I rasped against her skin. “So responsive.”
And I dipped my head so that I was nuzzling the curve between her breasts, the valley that was all shadows, all promises. I hoisted her boobs up and out of her tank so that they slid before me, heavy, bouncing, creamy, firm and full, perfectly tipped with red rosy nipples.
“Shit,” I ground out before pushing her boobs together and burying my tongue between the creamy mounds, pushing deep.
“Ohhh,” Daisy moaned, squirming slightly against my touch. “Oh oh!”
And suddenly I knew I was going for it tonight. There was no way this little girl was going to walk away from this room a virgin, her cunt was getting a taste of hard shaft, deep and hard. Ready or not, it was coming.
I laid her across the bed, shucking off my pants in swift, smooth movement before pausing to give the girl a chance to look at my member, the stiff, hard fullness evident in the moonlight from the window. Shit, that thing was pulsing, dripping at the tip already, veins ridged along the top and bottom, something that would cause any woman to tremble in fear.
But instead Daisy merely raised herself on her elbows again, legs parting slightly even as her mouth opened.
“Mr. Marks, I’m not sure,” she said softly.
My heart stopped. I was going to pass out.
“Not sure … ?” I growled. Oh fuck, I was going to die of blue balls. However much I wanted her, I couldn’t keep going if she said no.
But the girl just shook her head and smiled.
“Not sure if I can wait,” she mewled, and it was fucking on again.
“Baby girl, I’m gonna make you come so hard, so fast, you’re gonna fucking love it,” I murmured against her tummy, against the sweet curve where her hips met her waist. I flipped her over so that she was face down, and roughly ran my hand over the smooth curves of her ass, squeezing the thick flesh, running my hand up between her thighs until I stroked lightly against her kitty, the thin cotton of her panties soaked.
“Fuuuck,” I groaned, eyes half-lidded as the girl squirmed in front of me, mewling with her face in the pillow as I sampled that beautiful cunt. “Fuck, you gotta show me.”
And hesitantly, the brunette reached in back of her, both hands sliding to her buttocks.
“Show you how?” she breathed, looking at me with wide eyes.
“Show me that pretty pussy, what else?” I growled.
And slowly, the girl lifted her hips so that she was balanced on her knees, face pressed into the pillow. With hesitant hands, she played with the elastic waistband of her cotton panties.
“Should I take them off Mr. Marks?” she breathed.
But I knew what I wanted.
“Just pull the crotch away from your pussy baby, you don’t have to take them off if you’re not ready yet. Show me that wetness, show me the pink slit,” I growled persuasively.
And the brunette nodded. With tentative fingers she traced her pussy lips, the mound pulsing and outlined beneath the soaked fabric. Slowly, she latched her fingers around the flimsy cotton and stretched it to one side, exposing that steaming kitty, the lips fleshy, puffy and gleaming in the light.
“Good girl,” I groaned, eyes glued to the sight. But before I could touch her, she giggled and wiggled her hips flirtatiously, baiting me with that beautiful cunt.
“Mr. Marks want a taste?” she giggled, and I was on it in a flash. I hooked the fabric over one of her butt cheeks so that it bisected the white, creamy moon and dove face first into her bottom. Running my lips up and down over her labia, the sweet nectar streaming down my throat, I groaned and my dick pumped on its own, bobbing up and down, I was so fucking jacked.
“Ohhh,” Daisy moaned into the pillow, hands fisting in the sheets. “Ohhh, more.”
And I gave her more. I held her pussy lips wide, shoving her knees apart with my own, and looked deep into that channel. She was a deeper pink within, a ruby red almost, and I could see high up into her beautiful kitty, the walls of her channel pulsing, streaming with female honey, gathering to coalesce at the tip of her vagina. Her clit pulsed and jumped as I ran a finger over it, tracing that hard nub, tickling her on the underside as I licked again up those sweet walls, pushing my tongue into her snatch.
“Umm,” she moaned, thrashing her head against the mattress. “Ummm.”
But I hadn’t even started. Holding her butt cheeks apart so that I could see everything from clit to ass, I ran my tongue up that pretty pink, hitting every square inch of flesh I could. I flicked her clit with my tongue before tracing circles around it, then alternately sucked and licked it, pulling the hard nub into my mouth, biting gently with my teeth before taking her pussy lips into my mouth and massaging them individually, working that sweet flesh. Just when she was about to explode, I planted a gentle kiss on her back pucker, making her anus clench in shock and anticipation.
“Mr. Marks!” she huffed, turning to look back at me with a shocked gaze. “Oh my god!” she squealed again as I planted another kiss on that rosebud.
But I was reassuring, licking softly at her rim, tasting her pleats with a satisfied grunt.
“I’m going to touch you wherever I want,�
� I ground out, my voice muffled in her behind. “All of you belongs to me.”
And continuing my assault, I ran big hands up and down her thighs, squeezing the thickness, stroking her calves, reaching forward to fondle those pendulous boobs. I love huge tits and my ward had the best kind, soft and full without being saggy and draggy.
But it was time. I was fucking ready to erupt and unless I wanted to sully these sheets with jism, it was time to take what I’d come for.
“You ready, little girl?” I murmured in her ear, coming up onto my knees behind her so that she knelt before me doggy-style. “You ready to feel Daddy’s pole in your sweet snatch?”
And the brunette didn’t answer, instead moaning, pressing her face even further into the mattress while waving her cunt at me, grinding it slightly against my groin, mashing that sweet pussy against my cock, letting the wetness lube me up. Without waiting, I licked my palm and took my penis in hand. Slowly, I trailed it up and down those sweet lips, letting her feel my dicktip, spreading pre-cum against her flesh, massaging it into her vibrating skin. And so slowly, oh so slowly, I guided the head into her swollen pussy, letting her cunt lips just kiss the head, letting her feel her first man up close.
“You like baby?” I ground out, holding perfectly still, just an inch inside. “You okay?”
The brunette still didn’t answer, eyes closed as she moaned into the mattress. But her body told me everything I needed to know. Shaking her hips a bit, that luscious bottom moved right, left, right, left and then down, catching more of my dick in her, those sweet, hot walls pulsing against my fuckpole, sucking it in so that sweet heaven surrounded me, cushioning me on all sides.
Claiming His Virgin In the Ring: The Filthy Wrestling Club Page 49
