Forbidden: A Blakely After Dark Novella (The Forbidden Series)

by Kira Blakely

  The masks are a pain in the ass. I long to rip his off, just so I can see what’s underneath, to identify the man I’m with. I won’t know him, yeah, I don’t exactly run in billionaire circles back in New York, but at least I’ll remember his face after this and look back on this time.

  “No looking back,” I mutter, and shake my head at myself. “You’re here to lose the virginity, to be wild. No emotions. No attachments.” The sex is amazing, not that I have a real frame of reference here, but I can’t afford getting invested.

  I have tonight and tomorrow night, and after that, it’s over. No more Daddy. No more fun.

  I’ll return to my normal life at Columbia, study and work hard, and hopefully, all this pressure and sex stuff will be off my mind.

  I slip off my bikini top and drop it into the wash basket beside the basin. The bathroom is all cool colors, pale blue tiles, steel gray fittings with a matte finish, and a mirror over the sink that reflects it all.

  I step into the open plan shower and switch on the hot water. Steam pours down and I’m instantly doused. I don’t want to wash his scent off my skin, not really, but I have to get clean for tonight.

  I’ve promised to meet him at the party in the main hall – a place we’ve never been – and I can’t go without –

  A knock rattles my front door, and I drop the soap. Never a good idea. “Hello?” I call out, then roll my eyes. How will anyone hear me in this?

  I’m about to switch off the water when the front door clicks. I tense up. What if it’s him? What if he’s come to my villa, without his mask? A thrill travels down my spine. I wash up as fast as I can, but footsteps track across the wooden boards in my bedroom and toward the entrance to the bathroom.

  My pulse races. I cut off the water and reach for a towel on the hook beside the shower. I grab it just as a shape materializes in the steam. A woman’s shape.

  “What the –?”

  “There you are, girl, I’ve been looking all over for you.” Becky’s voice is honeyed, and she waves the steam from her face. “Still taking showers that’ll burn your skin off.”

  “Oh my god,” I say. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I totally forgot about you.”

  “A mean feat,” Becky replies and winks at me. She’s stunning in her bikini and a lace shift over it. “I take it there’s a reason you haven’t come over.”

  “I – uh, I don’t know where you stay.” I wrap the towel around my body and step onto the bath mat.

  “Dude, I literally live in the villa right next door to you,” Becky says. “Boy, you’re distracted.”

  “Yeah.” I grab another towel for my hair and walk through the bedroom. “I guess I am.” I flip my hair forward and put it up in the towel to dry.

  Becky follows me and takes a seat on the chaise lounge at the base of my bed. “So?”

  “So?” I throw back, though I already know what she wants to ask.

  “Oh, come on, how’s it going with the, you know, losing-your-virginity deal? Have you managed it yet?”

  I blush and turn my back to her, walk to the closet where I’ll surely find the perfect dress for tonight, paid for, brand new, and a matching set of shoes. “Uh –”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Yes, I have.” I sigh and throw the door open. And true to form, there’s a gorgeous red dress, this time a strappy one with a square cut at the breasts, tapering down to a body con at the bottom.

  “Good,” she replies. “How many guys?”

  I drag the dress off the rack and turn to her. “Are you kidding? Just one! I mean, I came to lose my virginity, not lose my mind.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s fun! You haven’t lived until you’ve had two dicks inside you, one in your mouth and the other in your pussy.” Becky clasps her hands together and sighs. “So good.”

  “Right,” I say, and slip into the dress, still a little moist from the shower. “It’s not like that for me. I’ve met – I don’t know how to describe him. He’s amazing. He’s not just good at the sex stuff, he emanates this… I don’t know, this power. And when I told him about it being my first time ever, he went really gentle with me.”

  “Wow,” Becky says and blinks at me. “That’s great. But, I mean, you do know that’s all for the weekend. After this event, he’s not going to give a fuck about you.”

  I freeze midway to drying my hair.

  “Sorry, I hope I’m not bursting your bubble here,” Becky says, and checks her nails. “I just want you to be prepared for the disappointment.”

  “There’s been no disappointment so far.” What was her deal? I was well aware of the length of the weekend, and that I’ll probably never see Daddy again, but what the hell? Is it necessary to shove it in my face when I’m trying to have a conversation with her about how good things have been for once?

  “Yeah, I don’t want you to wind up regretting this like you did not fucking Jake.”

  “Jake,” I say, and lick my lips. “Jake didn’t deserve my virginity. He cheated.”

  “Because you wouldn’t fuck,” Becky replies, then shakes her head. “That came out wrong. Like I said, I’m not taking sides.”

  But she is. This is her side. She was friends with Jake before she was friends with me and it’s clear that in Becky’s twisted mind, she believes I should’ve fucked him merely because he asked for it.

  “I wasn’t ready back then.”

  “But you are now? Girl, you don’t even know this dude,” Becky replies.

  “What the hell? You’re the one who told me to do this in the first place,” I say.

  Becky presses her lips together, releases them slowly. “Yeah, I did. I just didn’t think you’d jump right into this one guy. If you were going to do that, you should’ve just let Jake get it.”

  “Whatever,” I say. “This is crazy. You got me the invitation and now you’re acting weird.”

  “I just don’t think Jake would approve of your new soulmate. This is just supposed to be a sex thing.”

  “Jake? Who gives a fuck about what Jake would think!? I’m not his girlfriend anymore. God, you know what? For once in my life I’m actually enjoying myself. I’m feeling things I didn’t think were possible. I –”

  “Feeling things?!”

  And just like that, I’ve reached my limit. It’s none of her business what I feel. Friends are supposed to be supportive and this is the opposite of that.

  “Get out,” I say. “Get out of my space.”

  “Heather –”

  “Now!” I point to the door, and the towel drops from my hair and falls to the floorboard.

  Becky hesitates, shakes her head at me one last time, then slips off the end of the chaise lounge. “Just – just be careful, Heather. You’re in over your head here.” And then she leaves, trailing her effusive Chanel No. 5 and all the attitude I thought I liked about her.

  I stare at the open front door, silently cursing myself, the villa, and Becky.

  But not Daddy, no. If anything, my longing for him has grown stronger. I can’t wait until tonight.

  Chapter 10

  Nicholas

  It’s been an hour since I fucked her tight pussy on the beach and I can’t get her off my mind. I’ve got to have more and I’ve got to have it now. Her body is supple, and so right beneath my fingers.

  I open the front door of my villa and walk barefoot down the path toward the sand of the beach. It’s afternoon, and most of the beachgoers have retired for an afternoon siesta or a private fiesta.

  I massage my forehead and try put thoughts of her aside.

  The connection we have doesn’t make sense. Apart from her vulnerable admission on the beach before her first time, we’ve hardly talked. It’s purely physical or chemical, but still, I want more.

  I want to know more. This is dangerous territory.

  I traipse down the beach and toward the cabana, where they’ll serve me whatever the hell I want. All it is, is a soda at this point. Tonight, there’s
another party in the main hall but I can’t wait to see her until then.

  I halt in front of the bar and smile at the mixologist behind it.

  “Good afternoon, sir,” he says. “What can I get for you?”

  “A soda,” I reply. “And directions to a woman’s villa.” Christ, I don’t even know her name. “She’s blonde, tall, tan, and I fucked her on the beach this afternoon.” Timidity wasn’t a thing on Mystique, and I always got to the point.

  “I think I know who you’re talking about, sir, but I’m afraid I can’t reveal that information. Unless she specifically tells you which villa she’s in and invites you to it, it’s classified. Which soda, sir? A Pepsi?”

  “Trust me, she wants to see me again,” I reply, but it sounds like bullshit, even to me. That’s likely what other men would say and I’m not like other men.

  “Pepsi, sir?” the mixologist asks, his tan as flawless as his too-white teeth.

  A kernel of irritation pops in my chest. Fuck it, I really want to see her again. Now, even if it has to be with this fucking mask on my face. God, how I long to rip hers off and reveal what’s underneath, to know who I’m fucking, and how beautiful she is. A face to suit the taste and smell of her.

  I open my mouth to reply but a hand lands on my forearm and I stall, look down,

  Dainty fingers, nails cut short and clear, which lead to a long elegant hand, a tanned forearm and up to the shoulder I’ve already kissed.

  It’s my girl.

  “There you are,” I say, and smile at her.

  She leads me away from the bar and to one of the tables in front of it. She doesn’t smile.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, and a flicker of concern dislodges the immediate lust which slid into place at the sight of her. I drag a chair out for her and she sits down.

  “It’s – nothing. We’re here to enjoy ourselves.” She shakes her head, then presses her fingers to her lips. “No, nothing.”

  “Talk to me,” I say, and take her hand. “We’ve shared more than words. It’s time we share those, too.”

  “I – I had a fight with a friend. She’s the one who convinced me to come here in the first place. She got me the invite because of – well, because I’ve recently gone through a messy break up.”

  Jealousy flares within me, an instant kick back. “A break up,” I say, and stroke the back of her hand. Her skin is delicate and I picture kissing her fingers, sucking them again. I focus on her words instead. “What happened?”

  “He cheated on me. I wouldn’t sleep with him and he cheated on me because of it, and Bec – my friend, thinks I’m getting over it too fast or something by sleeping with you.” She leaves those full, kissable lips open for a second, then closes them again.

  “That makes no sense,” I reply, smoothly. “She got you an invite to this island but believes you shouldn’t do what you came here to do? Bullshit. Sounds like this friend is an asshole. The ex, too. Any man who cheats is a dog. Why waste time in a relationship if you’re not happy? Why cheat?”

  Vixen stiffens, her dark eyes widen, then relax. She shrugs her shoulders. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. You know what? I just want to forget about all of this. Daddy, do you want to get out of here? My villa is close.”

  I study her, fully taking in the red dress, cropped, tight and clinging to her curves for the first time. She’s got on high heels, too, and her tan legs have never looked longer or more appealing.

  I rise and hold out a hand. “My villa’s closer,” I say. “We can talk more there.”

  Chapter 11

  Heather

  Daddy leads me up the path to his villa, between two lines of hedges, which shield it from the beach. It’s private, quiet, and already, my pulse races. We’re alone here and this is as close as we’ve come to actual privacy.

  What if he wants us to take off our masks? Will I hesitate? Now that it comes down to it, I’m not one hundred percent sure I’ll rip it off and reveal myself to him. What if he doesn’t like the way I look underneath?

  Daddy opens the front door of the villa, then steps back for me to enter.

  I do and gasp at the size of the place. Floor-to-ceiling windows look out on a wraparound porch and a view of the ocean, shielded only by palm trees here or there. The living room is spacious and the furniture simplistic, white sofas on hardwood floors, cream-colored walls, no TV.

  “Take a seat,” he says. “Can I get you something to drink?’

  I stroll to one of the sofas and lower myself onto it. “I’m not sure. What time is it? The party this evening –”

  “We don’t have to go to that,” he says, and shuts the front door. He locks it, too, and a thrill chases up my spine.

  “We don’t.”

  “No. The only reason I’d go is to see you and you’re already here.” He walks to the sofa and sits down beside me, places his strong, tan hand on my bare thigh and squeezes, gently. “This afternoon was phenomenal. I’ve never come like that in my life.”

  I lose my breath.

  “There’s something about you,” he says. “Something that drives my body wild. It’s new to me.”

  “Me, too,” I whisper. He’s close enough to taste again, and he slides his hand up my thigh to the hem of my dress. “I can’t think when I’m around you.”

  He smiles, a slow twist of those lips, the same ones that have tasted and kissed my lips and my pussy. “You don’t need to think about anything,” he says. “Just relax.” His fingers creep beneath my dress and toward my bare skin.

  I haven’t bothered putting on underwear. I figured this would happen again, hoped for it, actually.

  Our masks are still on and I don’t ask to remove them. It’s against the rules, sure, but butterflies bounce around in my stomach.

  “I loved tasting your cunt,” he says.

  My breath catches in my chest, and arousal floods me, starts in my solar plexus and radiates outward, washing through me in seconds. “It’s not fair,” I manage.

  “What?” His fingers reach higher, to the crease between my thigh and the shaven mound awaiting him again.

  “You’ve had me,” I say, and swallow, work up the courage. “But I haven’t had you.”

  His bright blue eyes flash, and he releases me, settling back against the sofa cushions. “You can have whatever you want,” he says, and unzips his pants. He pulls them down and exposes himself.

  Already hard, but not dripping yet. I can remedy that.

  I scooch around on the sofa and get on my hands and knees beside him.

  He watches me, head cocked to one side, his plain white mask disguising the parts of his face I’d love to see. I want to know this man, but I can’t. I’ll settle for tasting him.

  I grasp his dick and bring myself even closer, bend toward him, sticking my ass in the air. The bottom of my dress creeps up and cold air washes over my pussy lips.

  Daddy reaches around and spanks me once, twice. “What are you waiting for?”

  I take him into my mouth and suck gently, use my tongue to circle the ridge around his head.

  He growls and I slurp up the first drops of his pre-cum, spread them on my tongue. He tastes good, like clean skin and a little salt. I want more of him, more of that addictive essence.

  “Wait,” he says, lifting my chin with a finger. I look into his eyes. “Yeah, just like that. Spit in your hand. Work my shaft with it.”

  I do as I’m told, spit in my hand and slide it up and down the thick length of his cock. It’s better this way. There’s not a chance I’ll get all of it in my mouth. I clamp my lips around his head again and move in time with the beat of my strokes.

  Daddy grasps a handful of my hair, the other hand rests behind his head. He closes his eyes.

  I suck hard and pop free, and he jerks a little, bumps the corner of his mask. It slips a little and I continue sucking, watching him, eager for another glimpse of skin. If it comes off, I’ll have a face to remember when I’m back at Columbia.


  I go deep this time and gag a little on his dick.

  He jerks again and this time, the masks slips down and exposes the left half of his face. The closed eye, a strong, sharp nose. My insides turn to ice; recognition stalls my movements.

  Daddy is… oh, my god. Daddy is Nicholas Bennett.

  I’m sucking off my ex-boyfriend’s father. The same man I crushed on during my relationship, felt guilty about and shoved out of my thoughts, was the man who’d buried his tongue in my pussy and squirted cum all over it after.

  “Oh, god,” I say. “Your mask.”

  He opens those crystal blue eyes and feels for it. Fixes it back in place. “Wouldn’t want to break the rules,” he says, casually. He has no idea who I am.

  God, what will he do if he finds out? I was his son’s girlfriend.

  “What are you doing?” Nicholas asks.

  Oh my god. Oh my god.

  “Huh?”

  “Keep going,” he says, and gestures to his dick. My hand’s still wrapped around it and it’s wet with my spit.

  Slowly, I move forward again, place my lips around his head and suck. It feels so dirty, so wrong. He’s my ex’s father, and he tastes so fucking good I could cry. Every fantasy I’ve had about him—they were much tamer than the truth of our connection—screams back into my mind.

  I suck harder, lick and work my tongue around his head, focus on the sensitive spout where the ridges meet. I want to taste my ex’s father’s cum. I want to drink it up.

  Nicholas Bennett is the fantasy I’ve harbored for an entire year, and now he’s in my grasp.

  “Yeah.” He nods. “That’s right.”

  “Come for me, Daddy,” I say. “I want to taste your cum.”

  He jerks his head downward and skewers me with a stare. “Not before you come,” he replies, then grips my wrist.

  We shift around on the sofa, so that he’s lying flat on his back. I crawl onto his body, my mouth at his dick and my dripping pussy just above his face. Nicholas, oh my god, it’s Nicholas. I still can’t reconcile the truth, and I can’t stop either.