She’s so soft, so smooth… her skin is perfect… no makeup, just natural beauty.
“Ashlee,” I murmur, watching and waiting for her eyes to open.
I couldn’t bear a closed eyes kiss, not the first time anyway.
I wish someone was filming this, so I could treasure it forever.
Her eyes slowly open, her pupils almost filling the clear blue pools that reflect my own image, already making me feel like I’m a part of her.
I want to hold her like this forever, to remember her just like this. But her trembling quickens and I can see a sliver of doubt again in her sweet face as she thinks I’m hesitating.
No.
I won’t have her doubting me for another moment, nor ever again.
I seal our bond with the gentlest kiss, lightly pressing my mouth over hers and groaning slightly when she makes that little sound again. The sound I want to hear her make every time I touch her.
The sound of home, of belonging.
She’s warm, wet and sweet on my mouth.
A closed mouth kiss.
I wouldn’t expect anything less from my girl at first.
A smooth softness I could only dream of, yet here she is. Right in my arms and I’ve known her all of twenty minutes.
Oh god, this feels so right. This feels like…
Forever.
I don’t just want her now, I don’t just want to claim her for one day or a week or even a year.
I want this… forever.
I hear myself growling again, and unfortunately it breaks the spell.
“What’s wrong?” she asks me innocently.
Only now do I realize it’s the very thought of any other man touching these lips, touching her perfect form that makes me wilder than ever.
Wild enough to want to guard her from this moment on with my life.
Pressing my forehead to hers and taking both her cheeks in my hands, I tell her. I command her gently.
“Just tell me you’ll be mine, nobody else’s… not ever!”
Her lips answer, but not with words.
That smooth, wet warmth covers my own mouth again and I feel a fool for even mentioning it, even suggesting it, but I can’t help it.
I must have her, and to have her completely. She can only belong to one man and I’m staking my claim.
I’m that man.
Today, and every day after it.
I only pull away long enough to tell her that.
“You’re mine now, Ashlee… no other man, or anyone else will have you… understand? I choose you and only you, forever.”
Our mouths lock again, and it’s her tongue I feel thrusting into my mouth to meet my own, making me so proud.
Making me want her like never before.
Her breathing gets so hard I can tell she’s going to faint again, and I only break off long enough to let her collect herself.
Her smile, even though she’s almost hyperventilating tells me everything.
You’re doing great, Ashlee. I’m so proud of you.
I want to tell her, but what better way than to show her?
My own hardness, the precome I already feel staining my pants means nothing to me now.
Her pleasure, her complete satisfaction and safety is my number one priority.
“I’m not much of a kisser” she confesses, blushing with a devilish glint in her eyes that only tells me she wants more.
And so do I.
Kissing her is like kissing for the first time, my heart is fluttering like a moth to her flame and I can still feel her trembling with excitement under my hands, which yearn for her.
But now that I know she’s going to be mine, I can feel myself relaxing a little.
Easier in my mind knowing she wants what I want.
That we can explore this together.
It’s pure. It’s innocent. It’s a feeling I’ve never had and I only wish I’d found her sooner.
Years, decades of work, work and more work disappear behind me and I feel like I’m reborn in her presence.
Made new by her touch and made whole by her kisses.
“Oh, Tony,” she gasps, and I clutch her tighter, worried something’s wrong.
“What is it, Ashlee?” I ask her, leaning in close so my lips are almost on hers again.
“I’ve just never felt anything so… so … amazing,” she gushes, plying her lips to mine again, and I feel my hands naturally wanting to move all over her.
I want to explore all of her now. I want to stake my claim properly, and if she’ll have me now, right now.
Her hands linking around my neck, mine clutching her waist… those hips… In no time I’m on the bed and rolling with her on top of me.
A perfect knot of two people who’ve found each other and don’t need to say another word, but at the same time I want to know everything about her.
She’s straddling me, and I can feel the heat of her mound through her panties; teasing my rock hard cock as those hips unconsciously gyrate on top of me.
“I want you, Ashlee,” I tell her again, feeling a fresh shiver run through her whole body as our hands link up mid-air as she presses towards me.
“And I told you. I’m yours, Tony Fontana,” she teases me again, her eyes flaring as she says my name.
“Then let me make you mine,” I growl, flipping her onto her back in a single movement, keeping our hands locked and kissing her neck all the way down to her chest.
Making my way towards what I really want.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ashlee
I feel his strong hands working their way over me, pausing at the most sensitive parts of my neck and chest, branding me with his touch.
His thick fingers circle my nipples until I moan softly, then louder as I want him to touch me everywhere else, harder… firmer…
I hear myself gasping his name and he only responds with more of his warm, firm touch everywhere I need it.
He hitches up my skirt and I open my legs to receive him once he’s moved down my whole body.
His weight on me makes me yearn for him more.
“Mine,” he growls again, his low and deep voice resonating off the mound of my pussy as he stretches the thin fabric of my underwear to one side and wasting no more time, he plunges his whole mouth straight over me, making me gasp in amazement and relief.
This… more of this…
Both my hands clutch the back of Tony’s head, kneading his thick black hair.
The small sounds I’ve been making bubbling up into higher, louder sounds with each movement of his tongue and mouth on me.
In a second he’s freed my clit from its hood. I feel myself standing proud from my chest to my pussy in one movement. Tony’s hands are working their way between my thighs and up to my chest again, making sure he misses nothing in between.
I’m lifting up my blouse, trying to wriggle out of all my clothes with Tony’s hands underneath them.
His mouth is on my most sensitive area, but his magical hands make their way up from my thighs, unclipping my bra strap, stroking my breasts and then work their way down to my thighs again. All the while, his tongue and mouth work my swollen pussy as I moan louder and louder, feeling something building up inside me that I know I can’t hold back much longer.
I know what happens next. I’ve read about it, and now I feel it rising up inside me, pulsing its way out of me.
It’s too soon! I want him like this on me forever.
But Tony is wise to my feelings and only growls deeper, drawing this feeling out of me.
Teasing it from me like he’s medicine for an ache I know only he can cure.
Tony’s groans and grunts of satisfaction, along with his strong jawline pressed against my thighs, working in all directions tell me he’s enjoying this as much as I am.
He only stops long enough to tell me, to put my mind at ease completely after I start to feel apprehension creep in.
“I want you to come on my mouth, Ashlee. Give it t
o me and I’ll drink it all from you beautiful,” he murmurs, and like a key unlocking an invisible door, his order to do what he says makes me squirm harder against him.
I tug at his hair in clumps between my fingers as he quickens his pace in time with my whimpering breaths until I feel it rising up to the top of my head, spilling over and out of me.
The itch has finally been scratched but I had no idea I could ever feel anything like this.
My body starts to shake and shudder beyond my control and wave after wave of the same magic, electric feeling pulses through me as Tony prolongs my pleasure, working gentle strokes with his tongue now.
Like a master controlling a force of nature, he seems to know just what to do, where and how much to make sure I experience the most intense climax of my life to date.
My only one.
“Tony,” I gasp, wheezing his name softly, trying to tell him, but his growling grunts and sounds of contentment drown me out.
“Tony… To-”
It’s useless, the man’s a wizard. I’m nowhere near done yet.
He grabs me firmly by my ass cheeks, squeezing them in time with his next round of oral pleasure and I lose all sense of time, space and who I even am before I experience another shuddering climax under his masterful tongue.
Still quaking from what he’s done to me, I feel him coming up to me, his face in front of mine.
“You’re beautiful, Ashlee. And I want to do that to you every single day from now on. I will do that to you,” he says in that voice, with those eyes.
His lips press hard over mine and I can taste myself as well as him when I open my mouth, our tongues dancing together with the taste and scent of my own climax.
He only stops kissing me to look at me again, cradling my face in one of his huge mitts as he sighs with nothing but satisfied contentment.
“I’m a virgin,” I murmur, looking past him, out through the window. Feeling almost ashamed that I can’t be the more experienced, grown woman he thinks he has in his arms.
The hand on my face runs across my hair, brushing back the strands that have come loose during my first and then second climax by him.
Then a stab of fear runs though, and not because of what I think he’ll think of me.
I try to say it, but my mouth is frozen. Open with fear and unable to speak.
Tony looks at me, and is about to say something, but he senses something is wrong.
His face turns swiftly to the window and we both see the shadowy figure cross it for a second time.
Instead of surprise or fear, Tony’s body emits a surge of strength and tension. I hear a deep, guttural growl from inside him and he turns my face to meet his.
“Stay here, don’t move,” he commands, before pecking my lips one more time, letting me know everything between us is perfect still.
I can’t help but shriek this time, the figure of a man at the window, the flash of light.
“Goddammit!” Tony snarls, leaping from the bed and rushing to the door.
“Fucking Paparazzi!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tony
Amazing how the sight of one thing can turn me from feeling so happy, so peaceful with my girl, to murderous with rage.
I’ve loathed these pricks ever since I got famous, they’ll stop at nothing to intrude on my privacy and always sell the wrong story.
That mother of hers left the security gate open… thanks Stacy!
Accidentally on purpose? I wonder.
Wincing at the hardness in my groin against my pants, I half close the bedroom door on my way out, not wanting to involve Ashlee in any of this.
I punch the silent alarm in the hall, notifying both private and publicly funded law enforcement.
Stacy shut off the security when she and Ashlee came into my house, a natural thing, but without closing the gate behind her, the grounds are fair game for the press, magazine tattlers and worse… ‘Freelance journalists’.
I spy the baseball bat by the door, my own personal security but think better of it.
I’m so wound up right now, so protective of Ashlee, I know I’ll only come to blows if provoked. I can’t afford to be in a jail cell instead of her arms right now.
The thought is still there though, and once I swing my heavy steel front door open, I narrow my eyes on him, snarling like a beast.
I recognize him instantly, Clayton Kane, a wannabe actor turned all round sleaze by photographing anyone and anything in Hollywood he can turn for a quick buck.
“Afternoon, Mr. Fontana. I was just on my way to your door to ask if you want to buy a subscription to my new online magazine, ‘Tittle Tattle’…but it looks like my camera went off, quite legally I might add as I approached your open and publicly available doorway.”
His smirk says it all. If I snatch his camera and smash it, then his face, I’m the bad guy. I’ll be on trial and he’ll retire from his sales of the story and photo proof.
A hoard of photographers are snapping and filming from the end of the large gravel drive which arcs around to the front of the house from the solid iron gates at the end near the street.
“Tell it to the cops,” I growl, eyeing his camera again, which I know he’s using to film me still.
“You are trespassing, and I will be pursuing a civil and criminal case against you, Mr. Kane,” I vow to him.
Feeling her hand on my shoulder, I feel my own drop. Closing my eyes, I can’t close the door quick enough, but Ashlee is right behind me and before I do close it, I hear another familiar voice, which makes Ashlee squeeze past me before I can close the door altogether.
“Mom! What are you doing?” she calls out, and I see her.
Remember her now.
Stacy.
Not just a cleaner. Not just the foster mother of my latest, my only obsession.
I recall the only time something like this ever happened, some twenty odd years ago.
That voice… her face. She’s had some work done, but it all clicks now.
Looks like someone has a longer memory than I do, more of a grudge to bear because I wouldn’t bed her.
“That’s him!” she calls out, making sure she has at least two cameras on her, as well as her own phone recording the whole thing.
“He pushed me out of the house and kept my daughter inside… my only daughter!” she calls out, turning to make sure every rolling camera gets it.
I roll my eyes and shake my head before trying to close the door again, but Ashlee is in the way now. I can’t close it and I don’t want to be seen forcing her back inside.
Not now, not ever.
“C’mon, Ashlee,” I tell her calmly. “I guess I do have something to tell you about.”
But it’s too late.
“He’s done it before, Ash. Has a history of luring young girls into his home… having his way with them and then dumping them like trash… time to come home to momma now. I’m just glad I came back when I did,” she continues, her voice getting higher, and more annoying than ever, despite her efforts to sound reasonable.
I cup my hand under Ashlee’s elbow, gently murmuring I want her back inside.
She looks from me then to her mom again, her foster mom.
Her eyes narrow on me, then widen. Confused.
Her lower lip trembles as more flashes go off as more cameras get closer, the media deciding its open season on Tony Fontana now, judge jury and executioner have spoken.
She slips from my grasp, and without looking back, she runs to Stacy, who hugs her with open arms before shielding her from me with her body, practically dragging Ashlee away from me, away from our home.
Our life together.
I don’t even get to see her face again, just more ugly reporters, grimacing that face they make when they smell blood in the water.
“Mr. Fontana? Have you any comment to make on the claims made today? Are you forcing young women into your home?”
I look at the bat inside the door again, right before I c
lose it.
It takes everything I have, every ounce of control to fight my urge to come out swinging, to extract my own revenge.
But, the years have taught me one thing. A good lawyer and lots of money is the best revenge.
“Sue them all, and sue them for everything they’ve got and more!” That’s the legal advice given to me by my attorney, Max Shubert. I call him before anything else, noticing my own voice shaking as I speak to him.
“They trespassed, they invaded my privacy and they publicly defamed me,” I manage to get out before the doorbell rings.
A quick glance at the security camera shows a team of cops and private security.
“Just come over,” I tell Max, before hanging up.
I take a deep breath, opening the door as it rings again, expecting to see hostile faces but they all look relieved.
“Mr...Mr. Fontana,” The first officer stutters. “We’re all huge fans, and really sorry for this disturbance… how can we help?”
I feel a little smirk of my own play across my face.
Not everybody wants to bring down a celebrity.
Most people actually want to meet me, would do anything just to get a selfie, especially if they know I’m in the right.
I give them the lowdown, and in a minute, the threat of arrest is enough to send most of them scurrying, which unfortunately includes Ashlee, who decides to go with her mom after all.
I make a point of singling out that shit Kane. “He’s the one who broke in, was photographing me through my window,” I tell the nearest security muscle head who makes me look like a ninety pound weakling compared to his enormous size.
He strategically and effortlessly snatches the pricks camera, deleting everything and handing me the memory card for good measure while some cops pretend to look the other way before taking Clayton Kane away for some friendly questioning.
“Sorry again, Mr. Fontana,” repeats the original officer, his own phone in his hand, “Would I be okay if we…?”
“Sure.” I smile, chuckling to myself, holding myself up long enough with all my acting skills for a round of selfies and pats on the back before they leave me to my real feelings.
Maid For The Hollywood Heartthrob: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 200) Page 3