by Nikki Chase
Business. I wonder what kind of business he means. Technically, our relationship is business.
I wonder if that woman also used to be Caine's pet. Maybe one day, when I’m settled in my new life, Caine will pay me a visit and I’ll be happy to see him. That's hard to imagine, but stranger things have happened.
“Is she a teacher?”
“Why are you so interested in her, kitten?” He finally looks at me, his eyes penetrating. He's looking at me like I’m a puzzle to be solved. His puzzle. Every little piece of me his. “If I didn't know you better, I’d think you were jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.” I look away.
To be honest, I don't know what it is about her that gets me so curious. Seeing her with Caine earlier sent a jolt of ice-cold shock through my system. I’d never seen him on such friendly terms with anyone before.
Granted, I’d only ever seen him at his office and the hospital, before today—environments where interactions naturally take on a formal tone. I guess it reminded me how little I know of this man who has paid me an outrageous amount of money for my virginity.
Caine reaches into his jacket pocket. He gives me a strange look and leans closer, staring at me.
“Did you take off the panties I gave you?” Caine raises one threatening eyebrow.
“Yes,” I say, anxiety snaking its tendrils around my body. “I didn't think it was a big deal.”
“It's not a big deal if I say it's not a big deal. And I didn't say it wasn't a big deal.” Caine's voice is smooth and silky, but the danger in it is real. He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me closer until our eyes are only inches apart, forcing a surprised gasp out of me.
“You’ve been bad today, kitten. First you made a phone call without my permission, then you took off my gift, also without my permission.”
“A gift? It was a sex toy!” I protest.
“Which I gave to you. To wear.” He pulls my hair until it hurts, and I whimper. He stares me down until my eyelids flutter halfway shut. “It's time for your punishment.”
Caine pulls me by the hair until I’m lying on his lap with my belly over his thighs. He unbuttons my jeans and yanks them down, along with my panties.
This happens so quickly I’m still struggling to process what's happening, when suddenly my ass is on fire. I cry out, as much from the pain as from the shock.
Caine has just spanked me!
The contract did mention spanking, and I agreed to it. But I thought it was going to be fun and sexy, not painful and humiliating like this.
Thwack! The sound of Caine's palm landing on my ass reverberates throughout the hotel room.
“Maybe next time you’ll remember to ask me,” he says.
Thwack! Thwack! The sounds of the spanking and my own cries meld into one and I lose count.
Then, just when all I can feel is pain, Caine stops. Only my heavy breathing is heard. I gasp when his fingers make contact with my ass cheeks, light as a feather this time.
To my surprise, it doesn't feel bad. In fact, my skin, sensitive from the spanking, feels everything more intensely. It's like Caine's touch, already intoxicating on its own, has been magnified.
Caine rubs my ass with his palm, running his fingers over my folds every once in a while. Quickly, my pain turns into pleasure and my cries turn into moans. I feel Caine growing hard in his pants, his erection pressing menacingly into my belly.
Is he going to finally fuck me now, take my virginity when I’m at my most vulnerable?
He says he wants me to beg for it, but what if he's getting impatient? Or worse, what if I will actually beg him, only minutes from now? He’s already made my body do many things I didn't think I’d do, so what's another one?
He's dangerous. I know that. And yet, like I’m hypnotized, I stay. I don't know why. I can say the safe word, but I don't.
Caine pushes me off his lap and holds me up by my hair, until I’m kneeling on the floor, the bulge in his pants right in front of my face. Does he want me to give him a blowjob? Caine pulls me away just when my mouth starts to salivate at the thought.
He kicks my thighs apart and pulls his foot up until his shiny Italian leather shoe is pressed right up against my pussy. I gasp when he starts to move his foot rhythmically. I look up into his eyes. Does he really expect me to…?
Yes, he does, I realize as I see the darkness in his eyes, hear the cruelty in his chuckle. He wants me to…
He pulls my shirt up, shoves his hand inside my bra cup, and roughly kneads my breast. His finds my nipple, then rolls it between his thumb and forefinger.
This is wrong. This is so wrong, yet my arousal is building up. Or maybe it's exactly because this is wrong that I’m so turned on.
“You know you want it, kitten,” Caine says, teasing me, as he continues to rub me with the top of his shoe.
He's right. There's something perverse within me. There must be. Because this is making me so mad with desire I don't even care anymore if it's right or wrong.
I give in. I turn off my brain and let the rest of my body do what it instinctively knows to do. My hips rock, rubbing my clit against the leather.
“Good girl,” Caine says. He strokes my hair gently, almost lovingly. “You’re being a very good girl.”
With a loud, sharp intake of air, I reach my climax. My whole body tenses, then shudders uncontrollably as I hold on to Caine's leg, the fabric of his designer suit pants soft on my bare belly.
When I finally regain the presence of mind to remember where I am, I look up into Caine's eyes, only to see a pair of cold blue eyes staring back at me.
“Stay here. I need some fresh air.” With that, Caine gets up as I crumple onto the carpeted hotel floor.
I don't want him to leave, and I realize why when Caine walks out the door and it finally closes with a soft click.
Now I’m all alone in this hotel room, with only my shame as company.
I humiliated myself in front of a man I barely know, just because he paid me to.
What does that make me?
Caine
She's hiding something.
The thought makes me sick, although I know it shouldn't matter. Nothing about her should matter. She's just a piece of ass that I’m renting for the month.
When I get down to the hotel lobby, I spot a swimming pool and decide to take a dip. I buy a pair of board shorts from one of the little shops on the ground floor.
As I lower myself into the pool, my body adjusting to the temperature of the water, I hope it helps cool my head down. I haven’t been thinking straight.
I shouldn't care what she does with the money. I know the drill. Money for sex—no questions, no mess.
Cole was the one who put the idea in my head, a few months after Trish and I broke up.
As busy as my brother was with the hotel chain, he always set aside some time to play, to go to bars and drink, to flirt with women and fuck.
I had been burying myself in work, often staying overnight at the office because going home to the new, empty apartment reminded me too much of what had happened. I didn’t have the time, or the inclination, to deal with crazy girls just to get some tail.
That’s when Cole suggested finding a sugar baby so I’d at least spend some time away from the office.
The conversation starts replaying in my mind when I reach the other side of the Olympic-sized pool. I touch the tiled wall and turn around.
“So I’d be using her for sex?” I asked Cole at the time, my face scrunched up in disgust. There was something distasteful about the idea.
“Who cares?” He shrugged. “She’d be using you for money. You’d be using each other. Think of it as a mutually beneficial exchange.”
“I don’t know…”
“You’d be helping some poor girl put herself through college. Get an education, get a brighter future,” he said.
In the beginning, I cared—a little too much, probably. But all the girls ever did was feed me their practiced lin
es, the same things they said to all the other men who were paying them. Eventually, I stopped asking.
It got boring after some time. Unlike Cole, I need some kind of connection with a woman for the sex to be enjoyable.
It was incredibly easy to find someone. Even with my inclination for dominating women and inflicting pain on them, I could always find someone to accommodate my desires. But that’s the problem: they were only accommodating me because I was a paying customer.
Daisy is not like that. Which is why I’m back in the game, even though I’d stopped exchanging money for sex for at least two years when I met her.
Maybe that’s why I’ve been so reckless with her.
I used to put any potential sugar babies through a ton of checks—criminal background, employment history, references from the sugaring community, and the list goes on.
With Daisy, though, the chemistry was so immediate, so strong, that all I could think about was getting my hands on her tight little body, spreading her legs wide, and plunging my cock inside her.
So when she finally caved and said yes, I wanted to seal the deal right away, which meant forgoing my usual screening.
I had two reasons. One, I didn’t know if she’d agree to it. And two, I was going to have her no matter what, regardless of what the background checks would uncover. Even if she’d killed someone in her past, I was still going to take her into my home.
What could a harmless little girl like her do to me anyway?, I thought. I’m older, wiser, bigger, stronger… I was thinking with my dick like a moron.
I know now that even if Daisy is incapable of posing any threat to me physically, I’ve let her come too close. Way too close for comfort.
I don’t usually care enough to bring a woman to orgasm. After all, the whole idea is to pay her so I can use her for sex. Her pleasure doesn’t enter the equation at all.
And yet, I ate her out in my bedroom and I made her come again in our hotel room upstairs. It was supposed to be a fucking punishment; it wasn’t supposed to feel good for her, much less orgasmic.
So far, I’ve made her come, like, what—three, four times? And I still haven’t gotten any. I haven’t even taken my cock out of my pants yet.
I have jerked off to the images in my mind of her coming, multiple times. She’s so fucking responsive to my touch, so damn sexy when she comes. I have to admit it’s a different kind of high that I’m quickly getting addicted to.
But what kind of a chump pays a quarter of a million dollars to tug his own junk?
She must be secretly laughing at me, thinking I’m some kind of a rich trust-fund kid she can take for a ride.
She doesn’t even respect my rules anymore, as evidenced by the secret phone call to “her brother,” who could in fact be anyone, even her other sugar daddy. Her changing out of the vibrating panties I gave her to wear just added insult to the injury.
Maybe I shouldn’t have put in that clause in the contract about her explicit verbal consent for penetration.
She’s the one who specifically asked for it. I agreed to it because I wanted to see her beg anyway, before I fuck her. I still do.
I know I can make her body do whatever I want, though. There’s no worry.
I can manipulate her senses, turn the untouched virgin into a whore, desperate and begging for cock. In fact, she’d be better than a whore, because I know her reactions are genuine. I know some women fake their orgasms, but not Daisy. Nobody is that good of an actress.
No, she’s real. And I can get what I want from her, easily. It’s completely within my grasp.
Maybe I’ve been playing it too slow. Maybe it’s time for some strategy, some new tactic. If I have to play dirty, so be it.
She refused to beg me when I ate her out in my room, but this time I won’t let her go just like that.
I hold the metal ladder at the edge of the pool with both hands and hoist myself up. After a few laps in the pool, I feel like the water has dissolved all my worry and confusion. Now I know exactly what to do next.
I’ve decided. The time for patience is over. Daisy’s virginity will be mine before the end of the night.
Daisy
When Caine comes back into the room, his hair wet and his chest bare, I’m sitting on the wide wooden windowsill. I have the TV on in the background as I look out the window at the town of Ashbourne, distracted and lost in my own thoughts.
With Caine in the room with me, though, I can't help but focus all my attention on him. My eyes follow his confident, graceful movements as he dumps his clothes in the plastic-lined hamper, grabs a towel, and takes a seat beside me.
The windows span the entire width of the room and there's plenty of space, but he sits right beside me, his arm pressing up against mine. My heartbeat starts to speed up from the mere nearness of him.
“I’d never met Jessica Lake before today,” he says, his eyes two dark blue pools sucking me into their depths.
“Why are you telling me this?” I draw my eyebrows together and frown. This is a strange development, considering how he's treated me all day.
“You asked.” He shrugs. “We’re not in my apartment, which is what we initially agreed on, so it's only fair that I give you an explanation at least.”
“That's right. You… You violated the terms of our agreement.” I grab this chance to be the right one for once. It's not often that Caine Foster admits he's wrong. I guess this is as close as I’m ever going to get to an apology from him.
“Don't be so dramatic,” he says.
“So why are we here?” I ask before he changes his mind about sharing information with me.
“It's a long story.”
“I have a lot of time.”
“It's my father.” Caine looks into the distance and takes a deep breath. “He wants me to track down a friend of his, and Jessica Lake is… Well, she's friends with the friend.”
I’m pleasantly surprised. Behind that hard shell, there's a devoted son who would go the distance for his father.
“Okay, there's a lot of ‘friend’ in that sentence,” I say, smiling. “So, we're going to see the friend next, then?”
“No, the house that we went to this afternoon, that’s her house. She's out of town.”
“And Jessica knows where she is?”
“No, but I have people looking into it.”
“She looked pretty happy to see you for a stranger.” I surprise myself with the clipped tone of my own voice. I didn’t mean for that to come out like it did.
Now Caine probably thinks I’m jealous and this is a big deal to me. I’ll admit the jealous part, but it's not a big deal—he's my sexual partner and it's only natural for me to want to guard my mate against the competition.
This behavior is common in the animal kingdom, according to the Discovery Channel. It's only natural. And since he’s my first sexual partner, I feel it more intensely. That's all.
Caine smirks, telling me he’s thinking the exact thing I was afraid he'd think.
“What? I’m just curious,” I say as casually as I can, my gaze flicking toward the TV, which is showing a lion biting the neck of a gazelle, spurting red blood all over the soil and grass.
“I helped her get away from some bad people,” he says.
So that's the way it is. Everyone says the Foster family has gone clean, but of course there are always going to be traces left.
They're probably still involved in some nasty, dangerous stuff. Maybe that's why Caine hasn't told me anything—because he's worried I might go to the cops with this information.
Wait. Does this mean he trusts me now?
“Caine,” I say softly as I gaze into his blue eyes, his pupils dilated in the dim light. My heart pounds in my chest, but I have to know. “You said you’ve paid girls before.”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“Not too often.”
“When was the last one?”
“That's a lot of questions, kitten,” he says wi
th a teasing smile. “The last one was two years ago.”
My eyes widen, taken aback by Caine's answer.
“Does that surprise you, my little flower?”
“I thought you'd have one right after another,” I admit.
Caine laughs a contagious laughter, making me giggle. Apparently he finds me funny. I relax, feeling like he's showing me a glimpse into Caine Foster—the real Caine Foster. The caring son, the kind-of-scary-but-almost-friendly guy.
“Is it always one month?” I ask again.
“Mostly.”
“And some were longer?”
“No. Shorter.”
“Why?”
“Why make it any longer?” Caine looks genuinely confused, like there's absolutely no reason why he’d stay with a woman longer than a month.
“I don't know. Maybe you enjoy someone's company and you want to spend more time together?”
Caine pauses, his gaze on the floor and his lips curling up to form a thin smile. When he turns to look at me, I catch a flash of sadness before it disappears into the depths of his eyes.
“What for? If it's going to end anyway, why delay the inevitable? It's better for everyone to know exactly what they're getting into,” he says.
“Because time is everything,” I say. “Because what is time for if you don't spend it with the people whose company you enjoy?”
Caine places his palm against my cheek. His hand is big, warm, strong. Dependable, if only for a short time.
“Everybody leaves everybody else, eventually. Loneliness is the human condition. The sooner you get used to it, the easier it will be.” Caine speaks calmly, soothingly. It's almost like he's comforting me.
It's late, and the small town outside is dark. There are lights in the houses, but it's way darker than I’m used to in the city. The stars are winking at me in the sky when Caine captures my lips with his. The kiss is hot, passionate, possessive. He's taking ownership of my body, and I’m letting him.
When he shifts down to my neck, it reminds me of the gazelle on the TV, giving into the lion’s hunger, knowing there's nowhere else to run, nothing else to do. He paws at my tits beneath my top, his fingers teasing and pulling on my nipples, making them harden into little pebbles. I moan, letting my voice fill the room. I want Caine to know I want him this time.