Best of 2017

by Alexa Riley

  Finally, Luca starts laughing, a sound that makes my blood freeze in my veins. Mason pushes him away and the younger man stumbles to the floor, picking himself up in a second and dusting off his jeans. "You think you own her?" Luca hisses at Mason. "You don't know shit. I own you both."

  With that, he walks out of the room, and it takes me a moment for my heartrate to slow down until I can breathe normally. I let out a whimper, and Mason looks at me over his shoulder. I watch his eyes skim my body quickly, as if he's checking to see if I'm on one piece.

  "I'm scared of him," I tell him, feeling tears pricking my eyes.

  He doesn't say a word, merely glares at me before disappearing down the hallway without uttering a single sentence meant for me only. It pisses me off, and once I've collected myself enough, I storm back to my room. There's no key in the lock, so I push a chair from the vanity table against the handle, because I don't want anyone coming in. Luca or Mason - they both have something going on, and no one is telling me a thing which really pisses me off. I deserve to know what's going on, don't I?

  I fall to the bed, and promptly fall asleep for the next few hours, waking up disoriented when it's already dark and ominous outside. I know I should be smart and just stay in my room, save all my questions and complaints for the next time I see Mason. I haven't told my father much, though he calls me every night. I don't even know how to explain everything I've done and gone through in this house.

  I walk to the open French doors, standing on my balcony. The buzzing of the cicadas has become the soundtrack to my summer, and oddly, they manage to calm me down a little as I listen to their relentless songs. Finally, I decide I need some fresh air.

  I put a cardigan over my white dress, keeping my feet barefoot so as not to make any noise when I sneak out on the stairway. I open my door softly, finding the house dark and completely deserted. I know Filippe's in his wing, but I assume both Luca and Mason are either away or in their rooms, oblivious to me breaking the rules.

  I sneak down the stairs quietly, leaving through the backdoor in the kitchens. I've only been there a few times, but I memorized the small door leading into the gardens. Once I'm outside, I feel free and happy. The air is cooler and less oppressing, the insects are chirping happily, and there's a spring in my step as I run through the grass. It's going to need mowing soon, but for now, I'm enjoying its long blades leaving wet marks on my ankles.

  I know where I'm going already. Right now is the only time I feel comfortable seeing the secret garden, when nobody is looking. Whenever I tried to go earlier, I could always tell Filippe was watching, just waiting for another chance to tell me I wasn't allowed to go back there. But with the lights in his wing of the room out, I know he's fast asleep, and he'll be none the wiser if I pay my special garden a visit.

  I'm there in mere moments, and I lean my back against the wall as I take a deep breath of the summer. It's truly beautiful here, and I've never really appreciated my surroundings as much as I've started to in Italy. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I try the door in the wall again. As always, it's firmly locked. I sigh in frustration and on a whim, decide I might as well try to climb the wall instead.

  It takes me a couple of tries, but in the end, I finally manage to climb on top of the stone. I can see the garden now, albeit not as clearly since it's already nighttime. I swing my legs over the side and, before I can lose my courage, I jump off the edge.

  I end up in a heap on the ground, my bare legs smeared with the dirt and scratched by a neglected rose bush in the walled-in garden. I curse softly to myself and look at the distance I jumped from. I'm lucky I didn't break anything, and I can only hope the way out will be as easy.

  I start inspecting the garden and am on my way to break down the brambles preventing me from going further when I hear someone approaching. I freeze completely, standing still and trying not to make a peep. But then something even more awful follows - a key turning in the lock. And then the door to the garden creaks open, and suddenly, I'm not alone anymore.

  I look over my shoulder, my face pale and scared as I lock eyes with Mason. He's wearing a pair of jeans, which I've never seen him in, and a simple white tee. He's more handsome than ever with his beard left untrimmed and his hair messy. I freeze like a deer in headlights.

  He sees me right away, but he doesn't say a single word. I know I'm already in trouble as he closes the door and the lock clicks closed as he turns the key in it, pocketing it for safe keeping. I make a scrambled attempt to scale the walls again, but his strong body encompasses mine and presses me against it before I can make a move.

  He smells good, really fucking good. Like pine needles and summer, an odd combination that fills me with a need so deep I whimper, looking into his clouded eyes.

  "You're not supposed to be here," he tells me, and I nod.

  "I know."

  "Why are you, then?"

  I hesitate before giving him an answer. He's not touching me, not yet, but his enormous body is crowding mine, making me unable to escape. "I wanted to see," I admit. "Filippe told me I wasn't allowed to come here."

  "You're not," Mason spits out.

  "I'm sorry," my voice shakes as the sincerest apology of my life comes out. I really am sorry, and I'm scared too. I crumple into myself, but Mason grabs my hips, making me stand up straight. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I just wanted to see."

  Small, soft sobs start shaking my body and Mason curses out loud, running a hand through his inky hair. I can tell he's pissed, but for some reason, he's not telling me he's gonna punish me yet.

  "It's locked for a reason," he tells me roughly, and I'm quick to nod. The cicadas are ominous now, their chirping becoming louder like it's the soundtrack to the scene I've found myself in. "You're not supposed to be in here. Or anyone else, for that matter."

  "But why?" Curiosity gets the better of me and the question slips out before I can stop it. "It's beautiful here. I like it. I want to see more."

  Mason gives me a surprised look, saying, "It's overgrown. It's been like this for years."

  "I like how wild it is," I get out in a small voice. "It would look beautiful if you only tended to it a little. Why did you let it get to this point? It wouldn't take too much work to bring it back."

  Mason looks pissed, and I'm already regretting all of my questions.

  "Did you know I come here?" he asks me roughly, and I give him a strange look, shaking my head.

  "I just wanted to see," I repeat softly, and he curses out loud, rubbing his temples.

  "No one but me has been in here in seven years," he says quietly, and I try not to let my surprise show. "It's that way for a reason." He keeps repeating that, and I keep wondering why.

  "I can leave," I offer. Only moments ago, I wanted that. But now, with him looking more vulnerable than I've ever seen him, I want to stay. I want to see more, find out why this place has such an effect on him.

  He looks at me, his eyes empty and hurt, and I can't help but wonder who put all the pain in there. I'm too scared to ask, though. Mason's standing a few steps away from me and I'm shuffling from one foot to the other, dirtying my legs with the unattended soil. My dress is already ruined, but for once, I don't care about it. I just want him to ask me to stay. I make a move for the door when he doesn't say a word.

  "Don't," he barks at me, and I stop in my tracks. I'm nervous, and he's making me scared. In two long steps, he's approached me. His hand shakes as he reaches up to my face, placing a finger on my chin and making me look at him. He doesn't say anything, and my bottom lip trembles as our eyes connect.

  Mason looks hurt, almost physically so, his dark eyes cloudy with anger, but his body broken with memories he never told me about.

  "Sir..." the word falls from my lips without being prompted and I blush, unable to look away from him. There's something in his eyes that makes me want to find out more. Why is he so protective about this little walled-in piece of land?

  He groans when I call him tha
t. "Don't play games," he warns me.

  "I'm not," I whisper back, and for once, I'm telling him the truth.

  He moves away for a second, rubbing his temples. There's such tension coming off his body it makes me wonder what's troubling him, but before I can decide on a reason, he's back. His hands reach for my dress and I gasp as he rips it open, right down the middle.

  The cool night air hits my exposed skin, my tits naked and my nipples painfully hard under his watchful gaze.

  "Are you going to punish me?" I ask in a shaky voice.

  He doesn't answer me.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MASON

  SHE LOOKS beautiful in the moonlight, the soft glow of the night only serving to illuminate her stunning features. It's getting harder and harder to keep my hands off her, and I already know I'm going to have trouble with this next punishment. But she shouldn't be here. This garden is strictly off limits, as I'm sure Filippe has told her. Not that she listened. Girls like Cara never fucking listen.

  "I don't want to hurt you," I tell her, and she shivers under my touch when my hand slides down her forearm. Goosebumps prickle her skin and her big blue eyes find mine in the darkness, an unspoken question hanging in the air between us.

  So why are you going to?

  Because I have to. Because you want me to.

  For that divine look of submission, for that moment when you let yourself drift and your body belongs to me.

  I don't say a word, just twist my fingers in Cara's hair, gently pulling on the silky locks and making her come closer to me. Her scent is intoxicating, sweet peaches and cream, not unlike those that grow in my orchard in the height of summer.

  Her lips part as I lead her through the overgrown garden to a small bench standing in the corner.

  "Sit down," I tell her gently, but firmly.

  She obeys my order without saying another word this time around, sitting on the edge of the bench, her thoughtful eyes following mine. I think she's desperate for another order, but I don't tell her that. She hasn't been trained properly, she won't understand it right now. Not like I do.

  "Part your legs."

  My next order takes her by surprise, and she hesitates for a moment. Long enough to make me kneel in front of her, my hands resting on either side of her legs on the bench.

  "Did I fucking stutter, Cara?"

  She shakes her head frantically, and slowly, her legs part. I keep looking into her eyes even though it's insanely fucking hard with her pussy calling out to me so desperately. She keeps pushing her legs apart, farther and farther, and I can't help but feel proud of her. She doesn't stop until she's opened up to me completely, her little cunt only inches away from my hungry lips.

  "Good girl," I praise her, and her legs shake slightly. "Now stand them on your toes, on the very tips. And tense your muscles, every muscle in your legs."

  "Why?" she asks, an instinct that earns her a stern look from me.

  She blushes and finally does as she's told, her feet tiny and naked on the ground, her muscles straining as she fights to keep control of her body.

  "Pull your panties off," I tell her, and her feet fall back down. "Cara. Feet on your toes. Panties off. Fucking now."

  She's starting to shake, her whole body trembling with the impact of my words. I want to tell her I've seen her naked before, and I'm going to again plenty of times, but I don't. We're gonna have to deal with this bratty side of hers, because it's making me want to crack my belt across her ass. Not that it's a bad thing.

  With shaky fingers, Cara reaches to her hips. My eyes follow her hands as she hooks her thumbs in her thong and starts pulling it down. Her feet shake on their toes and she tenses, slipping the panties off her feet.

  "Good girl," I tell her again, and my fingers wrap around her dainty little ankles.

  She gasps and I grin at her, loving the effect I'm having on her body. She can try to deny it, but sooner or later Cara will realize she was made for me.

  "Now show me your pussy," I order her. "Spread yourself wide open for me, Cara. I want to see every fucking part of you."

  She hesitates again, but her own body gets the better of her and she lifts up her sweet white dress, showing me the shaved triangle between her legs. I exhale, my breath ragged, as she reaches between her thighs and shows me her pretty pink pussy. She opens herself up for me, showing me every fold, every fucking throbbing, soaked part of that sweet cunt. I'm worried I'm gonna cum in my pants, for fuck's sake.

  "Such a beautiful little pussy," I say roughly. "Hands behind your back now, hold your wrists. Be a good girl, Cara."

  She doesn't say a word, but she pants heavily as she crosses her arms behind her back. I torture her for a while longer, leaving hot, panting breaths along the skin of her inner thighs.

  "Please," she finally begs, blushing as soon as she realizes the word has slipped out. "Mason, I-"

  "What did I tell you to call me?" I ask her, my grip on her ankles tightening.

  "Sir," she manages to get out. "Sir, please. Get it over with."

  "Get it over with?" I chuckle and tickle her legs, my fingers sliding along her thighs and making her squirm. "Oh, baby, you're gonna be begging me not to stop by the time I'm finished with you."

  With that, I lean closer, letting my beard prickle the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She moans, sweet and soft and sensual, as I lick and bite at her creamy skin. Fucking shit, she tastes delicious. If I'm not careful, she's going to realize how fucking crazy I am about her and get the upper hand.

  I kiss my way between her legs, and Cara tenses all her muscles, her ass almost lifting off the bench. She's moaning, sexy little sounds that make me swell in my pajamas. I bite the lips of her pussy and she thrusts her hips into my face. My hands leave her ankles and I wrap them around her waist instead. She makes a move to wrap her legs around my neck, but I stop her, giving her a stern look.

  "Legs on your toes, muscles tense," I remind her, and she nods so fervently it makes her hair tumble forward. "Good girl."

  I know for a fact she's never been licked here. I'm the first man tasting her, having her in my mouth, and I intend on being the last one, too. I burrow between her legs and she lets out a long moan, her hands desperately shaking behind her back. I bite her sweet clit, throbbing and slippery wet from her juices running down her thighs.

  "Sir," she whispers. "Sir, I want to cum again, please."

  I chuckle between her legs and get back to work. I almost get lost in her, the sweetness of her pussy and the way her folds part to let my tongue in. I work her until she's gasping, whether it's my name or the one I told her to address me with, I don't even know. I don't even stop her when she reaches for me, her hands wrapping in my hair desperately, trying to get off on my mouth. So damn desperate.

  I wait until she's so close she's almost bursting. And even though it kills me, I give her sweet clit one last lick before moving away. Her eyes are glazed over as she looks at me.

  "No, fucking please," she begs. "Please, more. Please, let me cum."

  "No," I tell her simply. "My fucking turn."

  Her eyes widen as I pull my cock out of my trousers and she starts moaning. For a second I'm sure my plan has backfired and she's gonna cum from the sight of my cock alone. Every time she tries to touch that sinful little pussy, I smack her hands away.

  "You knew you weren't supposed to be here, Cara," I tell her roughly. "So tonight, you don't get to cum. But I do. I deserve it, don't you think?"

  I start working my cock, slow, long strokes. She just whimpers and her eyes glaze over even more as she stares at me. I'm getting close, really fucking close. I was worried about her reaction, worried she'd get scared when she saw the size of my cock. She has no experience, after all. She doesn't even know I could split her in half.

  Suddenly, Cara drops to her knees and crawls closer to me. I wrap my fingers in her hair and hold her at an arm's length, and she makes desperate little noises in the back of her throat, trying to get clos
er to me.

  "What a filthy little girl," I tell her softly, feeling a drop of precum glide down my tip and her hungry eyes following it. "You want a taste, don't you, Cara?"

  "Please," she mewls. "Just one. Just one drop."

  "I don't think so." I grin wickedly at her, and a grunt leaves my lips as I feel myself at the brim. Cara scoots closer, parting her lips and opening her mouth so wide. She's too far away to get a taste, but goddamn, is she trying.

  "Jesus, Cara," I growl, and she blinks, long lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks, her pink tongue out and ready for my cum.

  I don't want to, but I fucking spurt cum all over my hand, all over my fucking fist and she cries and fidgets when it runs down my thigh and seeps into the ground.

  She rips herself out of my hold when I'm not careful, and her little tongue sneaks up my thigh, licking up a trail of cum. She moans and moans and I feel myself dripping again as another, fucking painful orgasm, takes over my body.

  Cara cleans my leg and pants for more, but as soon as my cock is drained, I put it back in my pants and grab her firmly in my arms. She's so far gone she tries to grind on my lap, still so fucking desperate to cum for me. I carry her out of the garden, her body needily convulsing in my arms.

  I don't stop until we're in my bedroom. I don't give a shit if anyone sees us. Finally, I place her in my bed, and she starts grinding against the sheets.

  "Little slut," I tell her, but my voice is gentle. I dig around in a chest of drawers at the foot of my bed until I find my favorite silk rope. Cara's eyes widen as I pull it out, but she doesn't question me when I tie her wrists to the bedpost. It's only when she realizes why I'm doing this that she mewls in protest.

  "Now, now, Cara," I coo. "Can't have you getting yourself off, now. Then your punishment would've been in vain, right?"

  "Fuck you," she says desperately, and I laugh at her, helpless and stunning in my bed.

  "I have some work to do," I tell her simply. "I'll be back in the morning."