“Hey,” he said after a second. “I'm sorry about that. I was just teasing, I didn't mean to...”
He trailed off. I took pity on him.
“I'm Jan Rice; I graduated from–” he cut me off.
“Tomas Blake. I'm sure you're very qualified.” He took the hand I'd offered in a handshake.
I wasn't sure how offended I was allowed to be, for the absurd fees they would be paying me. Though, from what the butler had said, perhaps it was inevitable, and all the money in the world wouldn't make me stay. I wondered.
A moment later, the butler – I guessed he was the head butler – returned with a big man with a shaved head who looked me up and down. He didn't linger on my breasts, but I knew he noticed them. Most men did.
“Well then,” I said finally, “shall we get started?”
It seemed, hours later, that I had my work cut out for me. Tomas was not a fool, and he could be attentive when he chose to be. That surprised me, given how far behind he was for any sort of a Collegiate education. Most of the people who I've met that fall behind, it is because they make no effort, though I had no reason to suspect that Tomas was any different. Whatever had changed, to make him try now, was a mystery.
It would certainly take very nearly every moment I had to get to the point where he would be ready, though. So I was already planning exactly how I could hurry through the curriculum on my way home.
The weeks passed quickly. Tomas, for all his poor first impressions, dedicated himself when he needed to. After only a week, he was proving himself faster than I had expected even from his fairly quick first day. I found that we had time enough to take periodic breaks, which he reveled in.
He seemed to delight in showing me around the estate, watching with open amusement as I tried to hide the awe with which I approached every part of the tours he gave me. He most preferred, I surmised, the garage. I had noticed it from the outside on the first day, and when he took me down into it, accompanied by one of the interchangeable shaven-headed men, I realized that my initial estimate of its size had been far, far too conservative.
There must have been a hundred cars, spanning most of the last century, from even the earliest Fords. All of them were in impeccable condition, and though I never saw one, I knew that to keep such a large collection in such shape the estate must have had several mechanics on their staff. My amazement at the money the Blake family had to spend only grew as I came to be more and more comfortable in their home.
I smiled in spite of myself. When I looked at him, I could see the enthusiasm, shining out of his eyes like a searchlight. It was almost saddening when I the break was over and we had to go back to the study and sit down and work through the mathematics again. Math was fun for me. It seemed to just make sense, and I liked that feeling. I could tell that it didn't just make sense to Tomas Blake, and spending so much time having to be the person taking him away from the things he loved so that he could do work that sucked the light right out of his eyes hurt.
But day by day, week by week, we managed to get it done. I was proud of him, even for his bad first impression.
I thought that was the end of it. I went home with a damn fine paycheck and started drinking it away. I needed time away from the constant work, even if it was good work with a good kid–no, I corrected myself, a good man. He was eighteen before he graduated high school. I'd been dealing with a legal adult the whole time, even if he was almost ten years younger than me.
I was still enjoying my time off a week later when I mused about the idea of what I would have done if he'd moved on me for real, especially near the end. I could feel a heat rising down below, hotter than the drunken heat in my cheeks, and I decided it was time for bed. Then my phone rang. The number was blocked, but I was a little drunk and I answered anyways.
“Miss Rice?” I hadn't expected to hear that voice again, ever.
“Tomas!” I let my surprise slip into my voice just a bit before I caught myself. “What is it, how can I help you?”
“I just got my results back from the entrance exams, I thought I would give you a call.”
I waited for him to tell me what they were, but I realized dimly that he was waiting for me to ask.
“How did it go?”
“It's incredible, I passed! I guess you were really a great tutor after all!”
“Well, you were a good student, too, Tomas. Is there anything else, or–”
“Well I thought maybe you'd like a ride in the Lamborghini, maybe? I know you said it looked really cool, and I wanted to go for a drive to celebrate, and you were... I don't know, it's no big deal if you'd rather not come with me. Maybe I was just being dumb.”
“No, no,” I said, my head still foggy. I tried to think about how to respond. He wasn't exactly one of my students, right? So it probably wasn't a big deal. It all seemed to make sense in my head.
“Great, I'll be by to pick you up in... 2 minutes?”
That made me blink. 2 minutes? So he was already on the way, then. That presumptuous little shit, I laughed to myself. “I'll try to get myself ready.”
I threw on a jacket and looked in the mirror. I didn't look too bad, did I?
I heard the door buzz and thumbed the button. “I'll be down in a minute!”
I gave one last look into the mirror and pushed the door open.
He was as gorgeous as I remember, all good looks and muscles, like some sort of Greek statue. The heat in my loins started to rise again as I imagined how his hands must feel.
“Miss Rice, hey,” he said, sitting back onto the car. “I hope I wasn't interrupting anything.”
“No, it's good to see you. Congratulations on your results.”
He pulled the doors up. I was aware that they opened like that, but it was surreal to see it, the same way it'd been surreal the first time I'd seen it when he was showing it off. I practically fell into the car and started to buckle my seat belt as Tomas shut the door behind me. I looked up just in time to see him slide easily into the driver's seat and start the engine.
He started to drive, relaxed, through the city. I had been driving for years, and I never felt as relaxed behind the wheel as he looked now, shifting easily, accelerating in measured doses. During that drive, I almost forgot how powerful the car was supposed to be. It just seemed reliable, a smooth ride.
And then we left the city limits and he stepped on it.
I felt my head press automatically back into the headrest, the speed dropping a pit out of my stomach into the seat below. It was exhilarating and arousing. The engine was screaming so loud that we couldn't have spoken if we'd wanted to, not even shouting. We went around a soft corner at what felt like a thousand miles an hour and I smashed into the side of the seat, trying to keep myself from hitting the door.
I pushed an arm into the door and pushed away, gritting my teeth with effort. The sensation, all of the sensations, were incredible, at the same time terrifying and fantastic. My mind and body surged with arousal and excitement. I could tell what people paid hundreds of thousands of dollars for with this car, if this drive was any sort of experience.
We slowed back down to a reasonable speed and Tomas looked at me with a big, stupid, cocky grin on his face.
“Did you like that?”
I looked at him, drunkenness and adrenaline swimming in my eyes. It was the most serious look I'd ever given him.
“Tomas? Take your cock out.”
He had a wild look in his eyes, a mixture of surprise, amazement, and arousal. And then a smile spread across his face.
“Miss Rice!”
“Yes?”
“I mean–are you sure?”
“What, did you think this was my first time?”
He pulled his right hand off the wheel, his eyes on the road, and he pulled on his belt, which came undone with a hard metallic click. The button on his pants slipped loose and he pulled the zipper down.
I leaned over and hungrily pulled him out. I knew that it had been sudden, bu
t he was hardening in my hand. And then I took his magnificent-looking cock in my mouth, slurping loudly as I bobbed my head.
I could feel him fidgeting in pleasure as I sucked, his hand resting on my back. I don't know how long we drove like that, with me sucking him greedily. I could feel the arousal spreading out of my stomach and heating my whole body, hotter than the wine.
Tomas tensed up under me and I knew. Moments later, ropey strand after strand of cum shot into my throat. I swallowed it up greedily, ignoring the saltiness.
I sat back into my seat and smiled, wiping a drip off my lips that had escaped the rest of my mouth and sucking it back down as well. I could feel Tomas's eyes on me, undressing me in his mind. I let a smile worm its way across my face. It was nice to have the attention of a handsome man.
He didn't ask, but he definitely didn't take me home, either. I smiled at this, as well. I could have refused, I knew. I didn't have to go back to the house with him. But he wasn't asking, either.
The drive back was agonizingly long and by the time we pulled into the garage, I was rubbing my thighs together at the very notion of what was going to happen next. When I slid out of the car I found him right there, waiting, and he scooped me up in his strong arms like a small child, carrying me through the wide-open door and up the stairs to a bedroom. His bedroom, I knew, though it was nearly bare of any personal affects.
He laid me down and smiled. I smiled back at him, reaching up to grab his shirt and pull him down into a kiss. He pushed against me, our bodies pressed together along their length, and I wrapped my legs around him suggestively. Neither of us doubted what was to come.
And then he pulled away. “Show me,” he said, and he waited.
For whatever reason, this was the moment of truth, to me. The moment where I couldn't come back from. The car, that had been a moment of drunkenness, on adrenaline and wine and enjoyment, but this would be a conscious decision.
I started to unbutton my blouse, piece by piece. I hadn't put on a bra in my hurry to get out of the house, and as I undid the buttons, I could feel my breasts spilling out. I tried to keep the shirt together as best I could with one hand as I undid them with the other.
I could see the frustration on Tomas's face, the way his teeth grit together, and I reveled in it. He reached for me, leaning in, and I put one foot on his chest, pushing him away. And then, when I thought he couldn't get more frustrated, I let the shirt come open, my breasts out for him. He pushed back down onto me, latching onto one of them, sucking hungrily.
I gasped at the shock of electricity that ran through my body, and he seized onto it, pushing my skirt up my hips and revealing my panties. His hand rubbed gently through the fabric and I mewled my pleasure. I could hear him working his belt, unzipping. I knew what would come, then, when he pulled my panties aside.
I could feel his cock rubbing against me, sending an electric jolt up my spine when he hit my button, and then he pushed inside. I hadn't imagined I could feel so full. What was a quiet purr turned into an open moan. Every time he pulled out, it was as if my world melted away, and every time he pushed back in, I saw stars. I don't know how many times I came; I lost count.
He started to lose his restraint, turning into a mindless beast, and I looked up at him with sex and orgasms in my mind, and I moaned to him to cum in me, to fill me up. He pushed into me again, into depths I didn't know were there, and warmth spread through my belly. He collapsed onto me, both of us merged into one mass of sticky, sweaty bodies, gasping for breath.
I didn't know what would happen, or whether I'd get pregnant, but I didn't care. I didn't expect anything, then. I was overjoyed when he gave me the ring, exactly a year later.
Your Lovely Body
First Time, Virgin, Erotic Romance
Dalia Daudelin
I absolutely despise the way I look. Honestly, I probably spend more time in front of mirrors than I do in front of the television. My reflection is something of an obsession of mine, and every time I see myself my mind goes over every one of my flaws, my nose that's too big, my eyes that are too small. My breasts are lopsided, my stomach is too large, and my smile is goofy.
Hating myself this much isn't healthy. At all. I know I'm a smart girl, but no one will ever find that out because my outer shell is just disgusting. I want nothing more than to look like any of the models in magazines or women on TV. But there's no chance. I'm just destined to be gross.
I'm in college, and have been for 2 years, but I've never been to a party. Why would I bother to go to one? No one's ever invited me, and no guys would want to dance or talk to me.
I had a boyfriend in high school. One boyfriend. I was 16, and he was a hitter. He would always tell me, every day, how I was so ugly that I was lucky to have him. And you know what? I was. He was right, because no one else has wanted to come near me since then.
So, imagine everyone's lack of surprise when, after being asked by my friend Lauren to go to a party, I say no. No, I have laundry and homework to do, and I am really just not feeling great, but thank you for asking and next time I promise!
I guess I lie a lot too.
Tonight, though, Lauren insists. "You have to come!" she texts. "If you don't I'll never talk to you again!"
I roll my eyes. But then I bite my lip. What if she's being serious? How would I know? It's impossible to know the gravity of this situation when it's being experienced through text and I can't lose my best friend or else I'll end up a crazy cat lady who spends all day on Tumblr and 4chan and...
"Fine! Where do I need to be?" I will hold this against her for a long time, I assure myself while I wait for her to text me back.
"Just get to my room ASAP, like before 6."
It's 5:30. Great. Now I have to rush too! I run around my room like a chicken with my head cut off, trying to make sense of this predicament as I change into something more flattering (at least as flattering as something can be on my body). A red top and a long, flowing black skirt later, I glance at the mirror. My hair is a mess. Brushing it and tying it up, I can feel my obsessive frustration with my looks building up, and so I save the time I would be spending melting down and use it to get out of my room and down to Lauren's.
Marie is in her room with her, her hair in a tight bun, and she's wearing a short red dress that shows off her thin, amazing legs. Lauren allows her hair to stay down. She's dressed in jeans and a tank top that shows off her obscenely large breasts. But I suppose, she could wear a burlap sack and it would show off her obscenely large breasts.
"I'm glad you decided to come!" Marie says, in a short of fake-happy tone. She throws her arms around me and hugs me. I know she's never enjoyed being around me, which is par for the course.
"So," Lauren starts. "The party is at the local club. It should be great, lots of hot frat guys." She grins at me as if this is meant to make me excited. I am not excited. She waits, ever patient, for me to grin, but before long she just moves on. She puts on makup, and ushers me along as we head towards the club.
It's loud and obnoxious in here, as expected. The music is so loud that I can barely here Lauren say she'll grab us drinks. I follow Marie to a table, neither of us talking to each other at all. She eyes the room, in a manner that reminds me of a lion surveying for prey. As soon as Lauren sits down with 3 drinks, Marie leaps up and pounces on a wildebeest. Or a man. Whichever.
"See anyone interesting?" My best friend asks me, and I shake my head with a sarcastic look on my face. She laughs. "Let me know if you do, I'll introduce you."
She tries her hardest to support me, turning down a few offers to dance. But before long it gets to be too much, and I urge her to go and have fun. I sit, alone, drinking a Bloody Mary and watching everyone around me. Dancing, gyrating their bodies like they're possessed.
I feel a presence behind me, and I turn to try and figure out what it is. Standing behind me with a sheepish smile on his face, is some guy who looks vaguely familiar to me. And then I realize he's in my Calculus class.
"Hey, sorry! I didn't mean to startle you. I just say you sitting alone, and thought you might like someone to chat with."
I am suspicious of his motives. Maybe Marie had sent him over to mock me, or Lauren had for pity. Either way, I wasn't buying it. "No, I'm fine. You can go." He almost looks genuinely hurt by my blowing him off. His puppy dog eyes pull me in, and I immediately feel bad for being so flippant. I'm about to apologize, but he starts in first.
"I mean... I can go if you want. But I've seen you in Calculus and you're always so quiet, and you seem kind of sad. I thought you could use a friend."
I sigh and shrug, which makes him immediately perk up as he sits in the chair next to me. "My name is Nathan!" We make small talk, discussing Calculus, and then my friends, and he talks about how he doesn't really have a ton a friends either. Which is complete bull- he talks to everyone in our class. For a few moments, we're silent while I watch Lauren laugh and flirt with some guy whose head is the same size as his neck. Gross.
Turning back to Nathan, I find him staring at me. When he realizes I've caught him, he grins sheepishly. "Sorry! I've just... I've never seen such a beautiful girl look so sad all the time."
I roll my eyes. Either he's blind or trolling me, and I'm not having it. "I need to go home," I say, standing up.
"Hey- wait! Let me walk you home at least. It's not safe to be out alone with all these drunk douchebags running around looking for a conquest."
I shrug and head to the door. I know he's following me. He seems like a nice guy, so I'm not too worried about it. I just can't deal with being in that fucking club anymore. He's right, too. The whole way back to the dorms is littered with drunk douchebags, most of whom leave me alone. One, however, has beer goggles on, and starts grabbing at me and shouting.
"Pretty girl, why don't you come back to my dorm?"
A Billionaire's Heart (Erotic Romance Bundle) Page 15
