by Tia Wylder
“How… how does it look?” She stammered out. He smiled tenderly, leaning in to ghost his lips to hers. She breathed a shaky sigh as he pulled away, reaching out to cup her cheeks in his hands.
“It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful in it. You’re beautiful without it, but with it… stunning, radiant,” he said warmly. She found herself smiling sheepishly, and he brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes.
“Thank you. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this, or especially what I’ve done to deserve you, but I couldn’t imagine a better way for my auction to have worked out,” she grinned. He returned the expression, looping their arms together once more.
“I couldn’t imagine a better woman to spend my time with, truthfully. I’ve never really felt this way about someone before. Of course, I loved my wife when we were together, but this is somehow… different,” he managed, just scarcely able to get the words out. She felt her heart swell with adoration, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked side by side back to Jenny’s room. “I’ll be ordering delivery tonight, I thought the three of us could spend some time bonding,” he added as an afterthought, pausing outside his daughter’s door and meeting her gaze.
“That sounds wonderful. You know, Mark, before I met you, I’d never believed I was worthy of the attention of someone like you. I still don’t feel quite worthy, but the fact that you picked me above all the others… it makes me feel wanted, for the first time in my life,” she whispered. His eyes widened in surprise, and she averted her gaze, not wanting to appear as vulnerable as she felt.
“I’ll never understand how anyone could not want someone as kind, generous and beautiful as yourself,” he smiled. He captured her lips in one final, lingering kiss before drawing away. He knocked on Jenny’s door, and the young girl opened up, looking delighted to see her two favorite people waiting to greet her. “Jenny, honey, we’re ordering delivery. I’m assuming you want your usual from La Petite Pettigrew?” Mark inquired softly, snickering as his daughter turned scrutinous eyes upon him.
“You’re not going to try and get me to eat snails again, are you?” She demanded. He smiled innocently, shrugging a shoulder much to Jenny’s obvious dismay. “Daddy, I hate snails! I don’t even look at them, let alone eat the gross things,” she whined rather dramatically. Jasmine hid a smile behind her hand, not wanting either to think she was taking sides.
“No snails, alright, no snails. How about some squid?” He continued to tease, receiving a vaguely queasy look from his daughter.
“Daddy,” she whimpered, dragging out the word.
“Alright then. Smothered chicken, no veggies, extra cheese?” He finally allowed, much to Jenny’s obvious relief. “And the beef wellington for me, and… I think you would like the red snapper, Jasmine. It’s one of my favorite dishes, and not too heavy on the stomach,” he suggested, smiling wryly. Jasmine tapped her finger to her chin, seeming to consider his words.
“Well, I am a fan of seafood,” she admitted, nodding decisively. “Alright, the red snapper for me. If I find you have led me astray, Mr. Stanford, you will pay dearly,” she said in a very serious voice. Jenny giggled, grabbing Jasmine by the hand and moving to pull her back into the playroom.
“Daddy has the best taste, at least… when he’s not trying to make me eat snails and other yucky stuff,” she said, considering her father with a pout. Mark smiled adoringly, reaching out to pat his daughter on the head.
“You know I just like to play with my girls,” he hummed. Jenny quirked her lips upward, considering Jasmine with a rather knowing expression. Jasmine reddened, looking between the two of them with a rather uncertain gaze.
“I highly doubt your daddy was talking about me, Jenny,” she muttered nervously. Mark winked at the two of them before turning his back, slipping away to presumably place the delivery order.
“It’s okay, Miss Jasmine. I don’t mind sharing my daddy. Especially with someone as nice as you,” the young girl chirped. She took Jasmine by the hand, drawing her into the play room once more. While Jasmine’s mind whirled with thoughts of Mark and their potential relationship, it just seemed like any other day for Jenny. Perhaps the young girl was more attached to Jasmine than even she had expected. When she had agreed to be Jenny’s nanny, she had certainly never imagined that she would have such a well-behaved child in her care. Then again, many things in the Stanford estate were coming as a surprise. She supposed at the rate things were going, she shouldn’t have been awfully shocked to find that Mark was secretly some sort of modern day knight. Instead of slaying monsters, however, Mark slayed evil exes. She chuckled at the thought, and without realizing, played the thought a bit into the doll soap opera that she and Jenny were organizing. Jenny was nothing short of thrilled by the turn of events, and Jasmine realized with a start that for the first time in her life, she felt as if she actually belonged. She felt as if she were where she was meant to be. All because she’d attempted to sell her virginity.
Chapter Six
The food they had that evening was nothing short of delicious, and everyone had done their share of picking off of each other's plate. Jenny was less picky than Jasmine might have expected, though she supposed she couldn’t blame the girl for her reluctance to eat snails or squid. The red snapper had hit the spot just right for Jasmine, and a touch of weariness settled over her once the dinner was consumed. Jenny fared no better after her large portion of chicken, and Mark considered the two females for a long moment, stepping towards Jenny to scoop his daughter up in his arms. She yawned, curling against her father’s chest as he carried her away from the table. Jasmine rose to her feet as well, trailing behind the two and trying to force herself to remain awake.
“I swear, they put horse tranquilizers in the food they serve,” Mark hummed, bouncing Jenny a bit in his arms. She remained quiet, seeming content to fall asleep on her father’s shoulder.
“I would believe it. I’m surprised that I’m even conscious right now,” Jasmine announced sleepily. Mark laughed, pausing to allow Jasmine to fall into step beside him. “How are you not exhausted?” She demanded blearily, giving Mark’s shoulder a little nudge. He considered her from the corner of his eye, quirking his lips upward.
“What can I say? I’m a grown man, I’m used to eating more than my share,” he smirked. Jasmine rolled her eyes, leaning against the doorframe as the man slipped into his daughter’s room. He stepped towards her bed, laying the girl’s small frame in the center of the bedspread. He took a moment to tuck her in, kissing her forehead tenderly before stepping back. Jasmine watched the scene unfold with an increasingly familiar sense of adoration, drawing her lip between her teeth to smother her cooing at the precious scene.
“So you’re not tired, whatsoever?” Jasmine inquired softly as Mark edged out of his daughter’s room. The older man grinned, reaching out to caress Jasmine’s cheek.
“Not really. I suppose you’re ready to turn in for the night, though. I’ll walk you to your room,” he announced, taking her by the hand and guiding her along. She followed his lead, hesitating as they grew closer to her room and all but planting her feet to keep from progressing. “Something wrong?” Mark inquired gently, considering her expression carefully. She could feel the flush on her face, the betrayal of her eyes as they darkened in desire.
“I’d like you to take me to your room,” she said softly. His eyes widened, and he stared at her as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
“My… my room?” He repeated in a questioning tone. She nodded her head, fidgeting uncontrollably beneath his gaze. “For what reason?” He continued to prod, though he had paused in his path to her guest room.
“I think that’s pretty obvious, Mark,” she answered, her voice hoarse. He reddened at the implication, but gripped her hand more tightly and drew her in closer. He leaned in to press their lips together, his tongue brushing her lower lip before probing for entrance. She parted her lips, swiping her tongue across his they tangled where
they met. She tensed a hand in his hair, gasping breathily against his lips as he reached around her. Mark rested his hands on her perfectly round rear end, squeezing slightly. He seemed all too thrilled by the sharp gasp that tore itself past Jasmine’s lips, and she glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were not being watched. As he squeezed her butt once more, she whined, pressing her face against his shoulder. “I said take me to your room, not take me in the hallway,” she breathed against him. He chuckled, swiftly moving to scoop her up bridal style. She swallowed a squeal, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her to his room with ease.
“Someone’s desperate,” he said softly, smirking as she leaned in to kiss at his jawline. She dragged her tongue along his skin, the salty taste doing no small wonders to drive her wild. He stumbled a bit as she took her teeth to the side of his neck, grazing the blunt edges of her molars to his neck. “Feisty,” he muttered.
“You have no idea,” she retorted, just before smashing their lips together to effectively silence him. He seemed torn between giving the embrace his full attention and managing to make a path to his bedroom. He rumbled as she drew away, a strand of saliva connecting their lips. She smirked, licking her lips and breaking the string. “Hurry,” she urged, her hands roaming what little skin was exposed on the man. She caressed his cheeks, drawing her fingertips down his neck with a breathy sigh. He rushed forward, closing the final distance between the two of them and his bedroom. He shifted his grip on her, reaching out to grip the doorknob and yank the door open. The two all but spilled into the room, and he tossed her onto his bed gracelessly before slamming the door shut behind them. She raised her arms above her head, reveling in the soft material of Mark’s bedsheets. He lingered near the door, watching her silently for a moment. She sat up slowly, tilting her head curiously.
“Are you sure you want this?” He asked uncertainly, and she smiled to herself while pretending to give the question deep thought.
“Oh, I was so sure, but now that I’m here…,” she began, watching his expression shift from desperation to embarrassment.
“I… see,” he muttered, trying to play as if the bulge in his pants weren’t the most obvious sight in the world.
“I’m kidding, you idiot. Get over here,” Jasmine purred, gesturing for him to step forward. He obliged, staggering towards her with all the grace of a drunken gazelle. His eyes were dark with desire, and Jasmine flicked her tongue out to moisten her lips. Her heart pounded in her chest as he grew nearer, edging onto the bed and reaching out to her. She pressed towards him, dipping her head to lavish his exposed neck with attention once more. He growled, a deep sound in the back of his throat, tangling a hand in her long dark hair. She giggled, sinking her teeth into his skin just deep enough to leave a mark. He hissed in pleasure, tugging her hair to expose the column of her own throat. He lashed his tongue across her skin, and she felt as if white hot coals had settled in her gut. His hands were deft, moving with a nimbleness that was altogether unfamiliar to Jasmine, even in her own private explorations. He slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders, pushing it down to expose her bra. She grinned, a glint in her eye as he reached around her to unsnap her bra. The baby blue brassiere fell away with a slight shift of her body, and his eyes widened as he took in her voluptuous breasts. He hesitated for a moment, meeting her stare. She searched his gaze. She could see her own desire reflected in his eyes, but moreover, she could see a certain tenderness in his eyes. She had no intentions of fooling herself into thinking this moment was anything more than just sex, but her heart pounded at the almost loving attention he considered her with.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice tinged with something that almost sounded like awe. He reached out, his hands quaking as he brushed his thumb to one of her perky nipples. She shivered in anticipation, already having gone farther with him than she had gone with anyone before. His touch was soft, gentle, a warmth radiating from his palm out to the tips of his fingers. She longed to have him touch her more firmly, and she arched her back to indicate as much. His eyes were locked on her own as he lowered his head, dragging his tongue along the swell of a breast. She found herself whimpering in pleasure, especially as his tongue grazed the erect nub of her breast. She exhaled breathily, her breath coming out in shudders as she allowed her head to fall back on the sheets.
“Mark, please,” she whispered, though she had no idea what exactly she was pleading for. He continued to alternate from breast to breast, sucking a nipple between his lips as he worked the other with two fingers. Her toes curled in sheer pleasure, and she struggled not to yank his hair out as she tensed her hands there.
“Easy, sweetheart. We’ll take it nice and slow,” he murmured, grazing his teeth to the curve of her breast. She all but shrieked, muffling herself with her hand as she forced her eyes upon him once again. He winked as their eyes met, kissing a pattern down the front of her abdomen. She tensed her thighs, though it was an unintentional action. He shifted his hips, pinning her against the bed with his much larger body. The bulge of his manhood settled comfortably at the crux of her thighs, and it was all she could do to not become a blubbering mess at that moment. He jerked his hips just so, giving her a taste of what was to come. She rolled her hips in turn, desperate for that bit of friction between her legs. “What did I say? Easy. You can’t rush art, baby,” he purred, though his voice was obviously a bit strained.
“Art, huh?” She managed to gasp out, laughing breathily. He hummed, pressing his lips just below her breasts.
“If your body isn’t a living, breathing work of art, I’m not quite sure what could be,” he teased. He shifted his hips away from her, continuing to work the loose dress down her body. As each inch of skin was revealed, he all but salivated at the sight. Jasmine had never felt so attractive, so utterly erotic, in her life. He paused when her dress was pulled just below her bellybutton, leaning in to kiss a circle around her navel. Her skin twitched with each touch he graced her body with, and she could feel a rapidly increasing tingling in her most private area.
“It’s rather unfair that I’m nearly nude, but there you sit still fully clothed,” she muttered, and he lifted his gaze towards her with a sweet smile.
“This moment is about you, Jasmine. I want to make you feel as beautiful as you are to me,” he smiled. She reddened at the comment but shifted her hand beneath his chin to guide him into meeting her gaze.
“It’s about both of us. I want you to feel good too,” she murmured shyly. He smirked, pulling her dress down off her hips and down her legs before tossing it aside.
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll feel plenty good before this is over,” he purred, sending jolts of arousal spiking through Jasmine’s body. He curled his fingers in the waistband of her panties, and it was all she could do to not cry out his name. As he dragged her underwear off, she self-consciously pressed her thighs together to mask her obvious arousal. She was absolutely dripping, more soaked than she had ever been in her entire life. He curled his lips into a grin, leaning in to part her thighs. “No getting nervous now. You don’t want to stop, do you?” He inquired softly. Jasmine shook her head fervently, biting her knuckle to try and smother her shuddering gasps. He looked primal, leaning in to drag his tongue along the length of her slit. She moaned, unable to swallow the desperately aroused cry. He hummed, peering up at her from between her thighs. “You taste sweet as sugar,” Mark grinned toothily.
“Oh hush,” she gasped, throwing her head back as he traced his tongue along her entrance. “Oh god, don’t stop,” she said in shuddering tones, bucking her hips up with every stroke of his tongue. He didn’t seem to intend on stopping anytime soon, pinning her hips to keep her from squirming too much. She growled gutturally, trailing off into a half-sob as he reached up to press a finger into her.
“You’re so tight…,” he gritted out, his voice strained.
“I can think of a way of fixing that,” she said almost demandingly. He met her gaze, chuckling in amus
ement as he worked a finger in and out of her. She drew her lip between her teeth, spreading her thighs as wide as she could in a lewd show. He took this as a cue to slip a second finger inside of her, working the two invading digits at a leisurely pace.
“We can’t go from zero to sixty without a little preparation,” he murmured, caressing the tiny nub at the apex of her womanhood with the pad of his thumb. She grabbed a pillow, muffling her cries into it before sinking her teeth into the fabric. “Wow, you’re a sensitive one, aren’t you?” Mark mused, continuing to swipe his thumb in a circular motion around her clit. She clenched around him, feeling as if she were teetering on the edge of some cliff, struggling to keep her footing while resisting the desire to take the plunge. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, he drew his hand away and rested back to observe his handiwork.
“What’d you stop for?” She hissed, mouth hanging agape as he kissed his way back up her body, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.