A flash of anger in her eyes, her fists tightening. And then a desperate, pleading look.
"I remember the day I got here," she says with some trouble. "You said you don't like girls cursing unless you're fucking them."
"That's true," I confirm. "What about it?"
"I..." Her cheeks are flaming red, but she keeps looking at me. "I want you to fuck me, Sir. I want you to fucking split my virgin pink pussy open and make me yours. I want your fucking cum in my cunt. I want you to spread me open and take what's yours-"
I don't let her finish. I gather her in my arms and push her against the wall, and she wraps her dainty, pale legs around my waist. She's so fucking small, so frail, I'm worried she'll just snap and break. But the moans that are leaving her mouth now...
Dirty, sensual and so fucking needy. I'd have to be a saint to stop in that moment. A fucking saint.
The tip of my cock presses against her pussy lips and she mewls, nuzzling my neck with her hot little mouth.
"Is it gonna hurt?" she asks.
In that moment, she shows me how old she really is. Barely legal, Daddy's spoiled little girl. There's no going back after this. I know I'm never going to regret it. I can only hope she doesn't, either.
"Yes," I promise her, and she sinks her teeth into my shoulder as I enter her.
She's so tight it almost hurts going inside her, splitting her open and feeling her virgin juice spill down my thigh. Her legs wrap around my middle tightly and she lets out a small sob, making me want to stop. But fuck, her pussy's gripping me so damn tight I don't think I could pull out now, not even if I wanted to.
"Shhh, it's okay, sweetheart," I tell her gently.
I make her look at me, her eyes big and filled with tears. One tear lands on my mouth and I lick it, savoring the saltiness. Fuck, is she beautiful when she cries. I get harder and Cara whimpers as I stretch her, her sweet little pussy trying to adapt to my enormous size.
"More," she whispers. "More, deeper. Make it hurt more."
I try to go slow, but when she starts moving her hips with my thrusts, I nearly fucking lose it. My fingers wrap in her hair and I really start fucking her. So hard I can barely hear her sobs mixing with begging for more. God, she's incredible. In-fucking-credible.
She licks at every inch of my body, nibbling and biting and sucking at my neck, my face, my chest. She's clawing at me, her long talons leaving moon-shaped marks in my skin. And I don't give a shit. All I want, all I'm aware of, is her tight pink pussy that's currently so wet she's literally dripping down my groin.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," I mutter into her hair, not knowing whether I could if she really did.
This is addicting. This is insane. This is it. What I've been waiting my whole life for.
She screams, and I pull back, convinced I'm hurting her. But she throws her head back and her body pulsates, her fingernails clawing at me, desperate, needy.
"Keep going," she begs. "You have to, you have to. I'm so close, Mason, I'm almost there."
I don't even register my own shock, I just keep fucking her, my cock thrusting into her cunt so fast I can hear her arousal. I've never been with a girl this wet, this fucking tight. It's like the chemistry between us has gone apeshit with sparks flying all over the place.
Cara clings to my neck, looking into my eyes and gasping.
"I'm gonna cum for you, Sir," she promises, her breathing heavy. "I'm gonna cum right now."
"Go on, sweetheart," I groan. "Cum for me, right on the tip of my cock. Go on, baby."
She lets out the longest moan and then she's shaking. I forget about everything. Every fucking thing. I forget about the shit at work, about Luca, about her being too young. I forget about the fact I'm not wearing a condom and I don't have a fucking clue if she's protected. And I don't give a shit, either.
I feel myself spurting, slowly at first. It sends Cara into a frenzy, and she comes like crazy. I try to pull out, but she claws her way back, nearly toppling us over as she impales herself on my cock, making me groan and curse and spurt so deep inside her it makes her blush.
I can't even come down from the insane orgasm when she climbs off me carefully, gasping for air. She collapses to her knees as I run my fingers through her hair, and she sucks my cock into her mouth.
"Jesus fucking shit, Cara," I curse out loud.
Looking down into her eyes makes me get hard again, and the last few drops of my orgasm leak from my tip into her wet whore mouth. She closes her eyes and moans needily as she drinks from my cock. Her hand goes between her legs and she toys with her pussy, bringing up her fingers to taste the cum I pumped inside her.
I just fucking stare at her, smoothing down her sweaty blonde hair. She's so beautiful.
"Good girl," I tell her absentmindedly, and she giggles.
She sucks my cock between her lips, so deep she almost chokes and makes me pull back in alarm. But she won't let go. She deep-throats my cock until I think I'm about to die, just so she can get the last, very fucking last, drop of my cum from deep inside me.
And then she pulls back, licking her lips daintily and smiling up at me.
"I think you mean good whore," she says with a wink.
Thirteen
Cara
It's finally happened. He's finally made me into a woman.
That night, I sleep in his bed. His hand between my legs, pressing hard against my mound. He breathes deep and low breaths, and I lie awake all night thinking about what happened, what he said.
That's why I love you.
I didn't imagine it, did I? He really said it, and then he tried to distract me as quickly as possible to make me forget he really said it. But I remember the words rolling off his lips, the way he rushed to cover them up.
I decide not to mention it. Better to pretend I never heard anything. He's going to tell me when he's ready... and even though it stings, knowing I already told him I was falling for him, I know I have to be patient.
I wake up to an empty bed, the sheets rumpled and the AC humming softly in the cool room. Goosebumps prickle my skin at the sudden drop in temperature as I climb out of the bed. Mason's nowhere to be seen.
I have breakfast by myself, spooning oatmeal into my mouth and thinking about the previous day. I really shouldn't be. I should be focusing on the present, not on yesterday. He might even act like nothing ever happened between us...
The mere thought of that makes me panic and I grip my spoon firmly between my fingers. Surely, he wouldn't do that? Not after the fucking connection we had, not after I let him cum inside me.
I'm on the pill, but Mason doesn't know. He never asked me when he was fucking me, and I didn't let him pull out, either. I don't know whether that makes our night together special or just plain dangerous.
I spend the day wandering around the grounds. Filippe makes my meals, but it seems like I'm alone in the house. My mind is swimming with everything that happened - Mason confessing he was the one sending me messages. So it wasn't Luca after all. I feel relieved, and embarrassed I ever thought it was him.
As the day drags on and on, I begin to get upset. Why is he not here? Why is he not taking care of me, making sure I'm alright after last night? Maybe he doesn’t care anymore... maybe he lost his interest now that he's had me.
It's tough to concentrate on anything but the negative thoughts taking over my brain. I try to convince myself he'll come back, but as the hours pass, it becomes more and more obvious I'm waiting in vain.
I spend the rest of the evening in the gardens, skipping dinner. I don't ask Filippe about Mason's whereabouts, and he doesn't elaborate. But thin lines of worry are etched into his face, making him appear somber and serious. It makes me worry even more.
After the sun goes down, I walk towards the walled-in garden. As a force of habit, I check the overgrown door leading inside it, and I'm shocked to find it open. I haven't been here since the night Mason caught me, and it makes me wonder if he forgot to lock the door that night... or maybe he left i
t open on purpose. For me.
I cling to the thought as I walk inside. The garden is silent and beautiful in the dusk of day. There are insects buzzing, and I find a bird's nest in one of the gnarled olive trees in there. Finally, I settle on the bench where Mason made me cum, and I lose myself to the world of my fantasies.
I've never paid much attention to why I am the way I am.
I guess not having a mother does play into it - I've always known my dad spoiled me because I only had one parent. I think of myself as quite intelligent, knowing I'll always get what I want if I play my cards right. But with Mason... it makes me different.
It makes me want to be real, not lie constantly and cover up the little untruths that have a tendency to spill from my mouth. It makes me want to lose control for once in my life.
I don't know how much time I spend in the garden, but when I get up to leave, it's pitch dark outside.
I smooth down my simple, long dress. I'm wearing it over my bikini as I had planned on testing out the pool tonight - something I've longed to do for a while now. But the day passed faster than I intended it to. I wonder if I could take a night dip.
I head to the pool in the back of the house and look around to make sure I'm alone. Then, I strip off my dress, and on second thought, my bikini too. I dive into the pool, relishing the feeling of the cool water against my skin.
I swim, I float, I let the water wash away my worries. I don't notice that I'm crying until I hear a splash.
I stand on my toes, panic taking over as I see a body in the water.
Instinctively, I cover up my pussy and my tits, my chest heaving with suppressed panic.
A male form emerges from the water. I know right away who it is, and as he wipes away the water from his face and grins at me, I know this won't end well.
"Hello, Cara," he says sweetly, but he's slurring his words.
"Luca," I say in a shaky voice. "Do you mind? I... I don't have a swimsuit on."
He approaches me, the water making his movements painfully slow.
"How delicious," he says. "Let's play now, Cara."
I scramble to get away from him, a million thoughts racing through my mind.
What is he doing here?
Didn't he leave last night?
Mason wouldn't want us alone together. I think he doesn't trust Luca.
Mason.
Where is Mason?
I push my feet off the ground, trying to get outside of the pool desperately. Any notion of shame at Luca seeing me naked is forgotten as I realize there is a bigger risk at play.
He wants to hurt me.
I've known that since the first time I met him.
It's what made me so uncomfortable around him.
He makes a grab for me, reaching towards my naked skin. His fingers brush my hip and I scream, loud and scared and panicked. I try to run in the cool water, but my foot slips on the slippery floor of the pool, and I crash face first into the pool.
Strong arms wrap around me, one of them going to my face and covering up my mouth with a thick, meaty palm. I scream into his hand but no sound comes out, only muffled whispers.
Luca pulls me towards him, makes me face him and stares me down with a cruel, glazed-over look on his face. If I wasn’t sure he was drunk before, it’s painfully obvious now. His breath it tinged with alcohol, he reeks of booze. He holds me down firmly and I struggle in his arms.
“What’s so special about you, then?” Luca’s slurring at me. “You must have a magic fucking pussy if it made the old man like you this much.”
My cheeks burn up as he reaches for my throat, his nasty fingers wrapping around my neck and choking me. Hot tears of helplessness fall from my eyes, stinging my cheeks on the way down.
“Get your fucking hands off her, NOW!”
Someone’s yell interrupts us, and Luca lets go of me like he’s been burned. We turn to face the garden, where Mason is pulling off his clothes before diving into the water.
I sob, unable to stop my body from heaving from what I’ve just experienced. Mason resurfaces and grabs Luca by the throat as I retreat out of the pool, grabbing a towel I’d brought with me earlier and wrapping my shivering naked body inside it.
The two men are fighting in the pool, throwing punches at one another. Mason’s got the upper hand – he’s bigger, broader, and he’s pissed.
I shiver on the lounge chair, retreating somewhere deep inside of myself as the two take it out on each other. I don’t know how much time has passed when Mason emerges with Luca from the pool, holding him down with disgust.
Luca has a bloody nose – maybe even broken. He’s crying like a child.
“You’re leaving,” Mason tells him. “Right the fuck now. And you’re not coming back.”
“You can’t kick me out,” Luca groans, wiping the blood from his face.
“Can’t I?” Mason snarls, pulling him closer by the throat and making the younger man groan in pain. “I don’t owe you shit, little boy. And when you pick on her,” he gestures towards me, “you’re picking on my fucking property. I don’t want to see you near her again.”
He pushes Luca to the ground and I look away when the man tries to make eye contact. I can’t stand to look at him, not after he scared me so badly.
“You’re picking her over me?” Luca asks angrily. “She’s just a piece of fucking ass, Mason! When are you going to realize that, old man?”
“Get. The fuck. Out.” Mason emphasized every word with a jab in Luca’s throat, and the younger man laughs bitterly.
“Call me when you’re alone again,” he says to Mason and storms off, his clothes dripping with water from the pool.
Mason approaches me as soon as Luca is gone from the garden. He gathers me in his arms and lifts me up.
“You can’t carry me,” I protest softly. “I’m too heavy for that.”
“Shut up,” he says gently. “You weigh nothing.”
He carries me inside the house, into his own bedroom. He dries me off with the towel, wrapping my hair up and putting PJs on me like he’s dressing a little doll. He tucks me into bed and climbs in along with me, his fingers trailing a line down my arms.
“Where were you?” I ask him. “I didn’t know… I thought you left me here by myself.”
“I had to deal with some shit,” Mason says roughly. “Luca… he got into a fight at some bar. I had to go intervene. I had no idea he’d come back here, sweetheart. He was gone by the time I got there.”
I sniffle and he pulls me tightly against his chest, crushing me on top of him. I climb on top of his strong, muscular body, and Mason’s hands go to my hips, holding me in place as I settle down.
“Don’t leave me again,” I beg him.
“Never,” he mutters in my hair.
Fourteen
Cara
A few days later, as we're having lunch, Mason tells me he wants to take me out. I get excited right away, remembering the trip we took to Venice and hoping for something similar.
"Where are we going?" I ask right away, finishing off my plate of chicken salad.
"I can't tell you," he grins at me. "That would just spoil the surprise, wouldn't it?"
I pout, but only for a little while. We've spent every hour of the past few days together, trying to put what happened with Luca behind us. I think it's working, and it's making us grow closer as well.
"Meet me downstairs at seven p.m. sharp," Mason tells me, and I nod.
A million other questions race through my mind and I have to bite my lip before they slip from my tongue. Where are we going in the evening? Will we spend the night there? Will there be other people?"
Mason's leaving the room, but as an afterthought, he turns around and grins at me.
"I want you to wear a skirt," he tells me. "Your sluttiest, shortest one."
I blush, but find myself nodding nonetheless.
"And, sweetheart?"
I look up at him, my cheeks burning up. He grins, showing me his perfec
t smile and making me get wet on that dining room chair.
"Underwear is not optional. I want your ass bare in that skirt."
With that, he leaves the dining room, leaving me guessing.
I spend the rest of the day finding an appropriate outfit. Of course, I know what I should wear the whole time I'm digging through my suitcases. But it's just a little bit too much - too revealing, too sexy. My dad would kill me if he saw me in it.
In the end, I decide I don't really have a choice. I have to wear my shortest skirt, like Mason said. If I don't, he's going to find out somehow and punish me for disobeying.
I bring out the black leather miniskirt. It's short as hell, and I don't even know what I was thinking, bringing it with me. It's so not my style. Still, I slip it on along with a frilly white blouse that's cropped in the front. I don't really have anything that goes with it. I obey Mason's orders and don't put on a bra or panties. But on second thought, I go for a pair of fishnets I bought in secret back at home with one of my girlfriends. It'll help me feel less naked.
The car is waiting for us as I come downstairs. It's Mason's usual ride, the black one that almost looks like a limo. Filippe doesn't comment on my outfit as he opens the back door for me, even though my cheeks are burning up. I'm thankful that he chooses to ignore what's going on here.
I climb into the backseat, and a strong hand guides me in. Sitting down on the plush leather of the chair, I blush as my eyes meet Mason's.
"My, my," he says roughly. "Don't you look like a fucking dream, princess. Always have loved a girl in fishnets."
He's wearing a suit - so expensive I'm almost worried to touch it. The sharp contrast between our outfits is jarring and makes me question where we're going once again.
"It's going to be quite a long ride, sweetheart," he tells me. "So sit down next to me and let me talk to you for a little while."
I do as I'm told and he tickles my arm, making me giggle.
"Cat got your tongue?" Mason teases me.
"No, I just..." I feel like I'll never stop blushing. "I just feel so... exposed."
His Muse: A Dark Alpha Bad Boy Romance Page 9
