Daddy's Virgin Bride: A Fake Marriage Romance

by Juliet Woods

  We soon get to the dancing club and walk inside the handsome old brownstone. It's all decked out in rich, warm tones – wood floor, glass chandeliers, red velvet drapes, warm lighting. The dance floor is spacious, and to the side is the live band.

  I hold out my arm for her to hook her hand through, which sends a thrill rocking through my spine. I feel her tense up and suck in air just a little as she surveys the scene. Loud music, and couples dancing a waltz over the floor.

  “You have just as much right to be here as anyone else,” I whisper in her ear. “More so, because you're my date.”

  She nods, the tension in her face softening a little.

  I look out at the room full of high-profile lawyers, Wall Street bankers, business people, and their spouses. Mostly it's older couples. The amount of Viagra and plastic surgery in this room is staggering. As usual, everyone looks up when I enter the room, curious about who's on my arm this time. I square my shoulders, proud to show off my hot, beautiful date. Both the men and women check her out, trying to hide their jealousy – the women jealous of her body, and the men jealous she's on my arm and not theirs. It's all pretty amusing to me, but Lily's grip on my arm tightens and reminds me that this isn't easy for her.

  “You're doing great,” I whisper. “You're quite the sensation already.”

  We pass by the band, and I stop to talk to the conductor. “How about a slow one next?” I ask.

  “Certainly, Mr. Davidson.”

  I lead her to a corner of the dance floor. No need to take center stage the first song.

  “First, the posture. You want to have an erect, dignified stance,” I tell her. “Do you mind if I help you get into the right position?”

  She shakes her head no.

  I stand behind her and place my hands on her hips. I tilt her hips forward just a bit, making her arch her back and stick her ass out even more. Then I draw her shoulders back, which makes her tits stand at attention on her chest.

  “There, that's more like it. You look very graceful.” I take my place in front of her again.

  “That's one I've never been called before,” she says, looking down in self-defacement.

  I lift her chin up with two fingers. “Keep your head up. Look into my eyes. Stand powerfully, confidently.”

  I watch as she takes a deep breath, lifting her head and locking eyes with me. And suddenly, she does look powerful and confident. And sexy as hell. I want to lift her up in my arms, hike that dress up over her hips, and plunge my dick into her little pussy.

  All in good time, I tell myself. All in good time.

  I lift one of her arms, then the other, to my shoulders, letting my fingers trail back down her skin as I place my hands firmly on her hips. I pull her in so that she's inches away from me.

  “How does that feel?”

  She blushes and begins to look down in embarrassment, but catches herself. Lifting her head back up again, she says, “It feels good.”

  You don't even know how good I'm going to make you feel.

  “Now, feel the music. Let it inside your body.”

  She looks confused, but nods.

  “And most importantly, follow my lead. Just surrender your body to me, and I'll take care of the rest.”

  She gives me a skeptical look, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure you're still talking about dancing?”

  I feign a hurt look. “Of course! What else could I be talking about?”

  She laughs, and it loosens her up a little. She lets me guide her as we move in time to the slow song.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” I murmur in her ear.

  “Thank you,” she says. “I hope I don't look as awkward as I feel.”

  “You're dancing beautifully. You've just got to remember who's in charge here and you'll do fine.”

  She gives me that skeptical look again, and I pull her closer to me as we move in time to the music. Her breasts press against my chest, and I move my hands down just a bit, to the top of her ass. She rests her forehead on my shoulder. My cock starts to grow, pressing against her pelvis. When she feels the erection, she jumps back a tiny bit as though afraid of it, and looks up at me questioningly. I pull her back into me again, getting even more turned on by her hesitation.

  This 20-year-old girl, this stunning young woman, is pressed against my body, nervous and unsure of herself. She seems so curious, so innocent and pure, yet at the same time she's been through so much for someone her age. I wonder if she's ever had a man hold her like this, if she's ever even felt a hard cock against her.

  She just may be a virgin.

  The thought lights a fire inside me, a burning, insatiable desire to possess her. I'm going to be the first to penetrate that soft flesh. It's just a matter of time.

  Chapter 5

  Lily

  Ethan Davidson's cock is pressed up against me on the dance floor, and I have to admit I like it.

  At first I was alarmed – maybe he didn't know it was hard? From the guys I've been around, I thought he'd be embarrassed about it, or try to hide it. But Ethan didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it. And my reaction to it seemed to make the thing grow even bigger and harder.

  To say I'm inexperienced would be an understatement. Not only am I a virgin, but I've never even seen a man naked before, much less felt his package pressed against me.

  I've never had a boyfriend before, either. There was one guy in the group home who liked me, and one night we kissed. It was an awful kiss. I felt like my mouth was invaded by a lizard. And I guess I've never had much desire to repeat that. Or at least I've never found a guy I was interested in enough to try it again with.

  And here I am with a billionaire CEO, one of the most powerful people in New York, and he's telling me I'm beautiful with his erection against my stomach.

  I have no idea how big is normal, but his feels big. Very big.

  I feel my cheeks go red as I rest my head on his shoulder. He smells good. A strong mixture of cologne, peppermint, and the outdoors. He smells masculine. He smells like he'd know what to do with me in bed.

  And where is my mind going right now? I'm having thoughts of sleeping with my boss? Totally inappropriate. I really shouldn't have even agreed to come out with him tonight. I mean, what happens if he decides he doesn't like me? Will I just lose my job?

  I try to not worry too much. He told me nothing bad would happen, and for some strange reason, I believe him. And to think I'm in this new situation that would ordinarily be sending me into a panic attack, and I'm managing. Ethan seems to have some kind of power over me. At the very least I feel calmer around him now.

  During the next few songs, he shows me the basic footwork for the waltz and the foxtrot. His teaching method is very hands on, and I feel a surge of electricity run through my body every time he touches me.

  In spite of all my fears, I do enjoy it. I never thought in a million years I'd say it, but I actually have fun dancing.

  I'm relieved to see that Ethan doesn't want to hang around and chit chat after the dancing. Instead, we slip out the door and retreat to his car while everyone else mingles.

  He drives me back to my place, and I feel my pulse quicken as he parks and walks me to my apartment door. What do I do now? This is the part in the movies where people kiss, right? Or the woman invites him in? I feel like so clueless and inexperienced, but I’m definitely not inviting him in yet.

  “Well, uh, thanks for a great time. I really enjoyed the dancing.” I dig in my purse for my keys, wanting to retreat into safety and avoid the embarrassment of not knowing what I'm supposed to do.

  “Anytime, kid,” he says. He moves his hand to my chin, lifting my head up so that my eyes can't escape him.

  Oh, damn. The anxiety starts to fill my throat.

  “Promise I won't bite,” he mutters.

  “I—I'm sorry I can't invite you in,” I stammer. “My place is a mess and I really need to go to bed soon so I can catch the train in to work early tomorrow.”


  “Sure,” he says. “Another time. Sweet dreams.”

  He kisses my forehead and lets his eyes fall on mine one last time, then turns toward his car.

  I hurry inside, letting out a sigh. I quickly take the dress off, wanting to get out of the itchy fabric, and climb into bed.

  I need to touch myself, to bring my body some relief. The electric spark that surged through my belly when he held me tight against him, against his erection, returns and swirls through my entire body. I drag my fingers across my nipples and down my stomach, pulling aside my panties and touching myself.

  I imagine Ethan above me, his mouth pressed to mine, his manhood throbbing against me. I push a finger inside my folds, rubbing and teasing. Would Ethan do this to me?

  His words echo in my mind: “Just surrender your body to me.” Oh God, how I want to surrender myself to him, to lay my body out before him for his pleasure.

  My body clenches, my toes curling under, as the orgasm rocks through me. I moan into my pillow.

  He said we'd go slowly. But I don't know how long I'll be able to wait.

  Chapter 6

  Ethan

  I'm still walking on air after my date with Lily the next day. It was an unusual date, but then she's not my usual fare. She's far from the socialite women I woo for a week or two, fuck a few times, and forget.

  The fact that we didn't even kiss just makes me hungrier for her. Like a big cat watching its prey, I'm willing to wait for her because I know she'll taste so good. I close my eyes for a moment, thinking of how good her virgin body will feel underneath me.

  But that image fades pretty quickly when I see my lawyer, Harry Friedman, waiting for me at a quiet table in the back of Casa Luz. He called me to arrange this last-minute lunch meeting with some urgency in his voice, but I'm not alarmed. He's usually worked up about one thing or another. That's why I pay him – to put out the fires for me.

  “Hey, Ethan, thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.”

  “No problem,” I say, taking a seat across from my thin, bespectacled, worried-looking attorney. He's a good guy, but he always looks overdue for a vacation. “You sounded on the phone like we've got a problem on our hands?”

  “That we do, my friend. Vivian Stone is suing for custody of your daughter.”

  He pauses, and for a moment all I can focus on is the ambient noise in the restaurant – the chattering of voices and clinking of silverware on plates. I feel my hands involuntarily clench into fists, the joints straining under the force.

  I take a sip of water, clear my throat. “That's absurd. Masie has been under my custody ever since Sara... passed.”

  The worry lines deepen across Harry's forehead. “Yes, you've had sole custody for several years now, but for some reason your sister-in-law has gotten it into her head to try to attain custody of your daughter.”

  “Why the fuck --” I realize my voice is a little too loud. Lowering it, I hiss, “Why the fuck would Vivian want custody of my daughter?”

  “That's not entirely clear at the moment, Ethan. You do know that she hasn't been exactly... stable recently.”

  That's putting it lightly. Word on the street is that Vivian went off the deep end after her family lost its money a few years ago. This is just further proof how messed up she's gotten.

  “Well, she's never going to win. There's no judge in New York who'd take my daughter from me and put her in the custody of that lunatic.”

  Harry looks down at his water glass and fidgets with his napkin. “Well, that's where the trouble comes in. Your sister-in-law has attained a very high-profile lawyer. Perhaps you've heard of Paul Goldsmith?”

  “So what? He can't touch you. You're the best, that's why you work for me.”

  “I appreciate your confidence, Ethan, but unfortunately Goldsmith is known for shady dealings, and custody cases are his forte.”

  I take another gulp of water, suddenly very thirsty.

  “All right, so what's your plan of attack? I know you're already cooking something up.”

  “I've got my team digging up dirt on Vivian. About the only way we have a case is to portray her as financially and mentally unstable.”

  “Shouldn't be too hard,” I say, frowning. “The woman's bananas, and she's broke to boot. I don't get how she can hire some top-level shark attorney.”

  “That's another thing that's unclear at the moment,” Harry says. “In addition to her unclear motivation for pursuing custody at this late stage in the game.”

  And it hits me: She’s doing it because she’s broke.

  “Would she do all this for the child support money?” I ask out loud, as much to myself as to Harry. “Would she be that low?”

  “It's a good question, and one we'll hopefully find the answer to before the court date in just a few weeks. I'll be in contact as soon as I hear anything. In the meantime, Ethan, you've got to be on your best behavior.” Harry looks at me side-wise.

  I know what he means – stop hooking up with random women every week.

  “Fine, whatever it takes,” I nod, standing up. “I've lost my appetite, but you enjoy your lunch on me. And Harry, thanks.”

  I turn and leave before he can reply. I need to get out of here. I've got a sick feeling in my stomach. Fuck Vivian. She's not getting her hands on Masie.

  Chapter 7

  Lily

  “Hey girl! I hope you're thirsty for pinot grigio!”

  I swing open the front door of my apartment and see the smiling face of Callie, my best friend. She gives me a tight hug, then barrels through the front door, dodging the hanging ferns and ivies as she walks in.

  “Damn, Lily! Your plants have grown. It's even more jungle-y in this little studio than the last time I was here.”

  I laugh. She's right. The longer days have meant more sunlight streaming through the south-facing windows of my postage stamp sized apartment, and the plants are really thriving. It may be a shitty apartment in a crime-ridden neighborhood, and I may have no furniture except a beaten-up futon, but at least there's a lot of light.

  “It's just how I like it – green and tropical.”

  “You must have the cleanest air in all of Queens with all these plants.”

  “No doubt,” I nod, digging through the kitchen drawer for a wine opener. “I saw you updated your relationship status online, by the way. You're finally calling Mark your boyfriend after living with him for five months?”

  Callie laughs, her brown ringlets bouncing around her face. “I figured it was about time to change that. Especially since he updated his status after our first date.”

  “Yeah, he's definitely a commitment kind of guy,” I agree. “Is he still leaving dirty dishes in the kitchen?”

  She groans. “Yeah, but we're working on it. At least I got him to clean up the bathroom sink after he shaves. You've gotta train even the best of men.”

  “I'll take your word for it.” I sigh.

  “Trust me, one day you'll find some guy to move in with, and you'll miss your bachelorette pad.”

  “Ha! That'll be the day.”

  We both laugh as we look around at the peeling paint, the bare light bulbs, and the stained carpet. My dozens of plants are the only things that make this place livable.

  “Well, I do actually miss living here with you, Lily. I don't miss that carpet, but I do miss you.”

  “It's all right, I know you found Mr. Right.” I pass her a glass of the wine she brought. “Cheers.”

  She clinks her glass and takes a sip with her eyes closed, savoring the wine.

  “So tell me about your date,” she smiles.

  “I don't think it was a date,” I say, blushing. “I don't know what it was, exactly.”

  “Come on, Lily! He pressed his dick into your ass, and told you to surrender your body to him!”

  “Yeah, maybe it was a date,” I laugh, getting flustered just remembering it. “I felt like Cinderella. I couldn't believe I was with my rich CEO boss, rubbing shoulders
with Wall Street bankers and such. And I danced!”

  “I know! It's so unfair. I can never get you to go out dancing with me! Well, I think this guy is a good influence on you. Even if he is 50 or whatever.”

  “He's not 50! Try 37.”

  She raises an eyebrow.

  “I snooped around his online profiles, OK?”

  “It's sexy – an experienced, older man, showing you the ropes, teaching you how to please a man, popping your cherry...”

  “Ugh, gross! Please don't use that expression again!” Not that I haven't been thinking about just that lately.

  Callie rolls her eyes, then lowers her voice to a conspiratorial tone: “It doesn't hurt so bad, you know, the first time. Just don't expect anything great, either, though. It takes a while to get to where you enjoy it.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Ruth,” I giggle, remembering the sex expert's column Callie and I used to read together in the group home.

  “Hey, just trying to help.” She drinks another gulp of wine.

  “I know.” I sigh. “To be honest, I'm pretty terrified of the whole thing. And not just sex. But getting involved with this guy – this man.”

  “Yeah, I get that. But you're doing great so far, right? Maybe his attention is helping you with the social anxiety thing a little. You said the interactions at work haven't been too bad, right?”

  “Yeah, it does seem a bit better lately. At first I was terrified around him but during our date, I had moments when I actually felt confident. For the first time in years.”

  “Wow, that's pretty major. And damn right you should feel confident, Lily. You're a gorgeous, intelligent woman. I just want you to see what everyone else can see.”

  I look down at my lap. “I definitely don't feel like that. I feel like an awkward little girl.”

  “Those days are gone. I know you've been through so much, Lily – we both have. But we have to live now, you know? We can't let the past rule our lives forever.”