by Stella Stone
“That’s not necessary, I can do those things myself,” she whispers.
I stop moving around the room, turning to face her. Tilting my head to the side, I lose all semblance of the seemingly calm man that I am. “It isn’t up for negotiation. You are not a slave. You are not just a woman who lives here. You’re mine. You don’t cook, you don’t clean, and you sure as fuck do not do laundry.”
She rears back, her eyes wide with surprise. “What do I do, Whitaker?” she asks.
There’s a bite to her soft voice, but there’s also fear in there too. I don’t want her to be scared of me, not really, even though it’s sexy as shit right now.
My lips tip in a half-smile and I grin. “For now, you’re mine, that’s all you need to know. We’ll define what that means, it will change into something that we both can agree with. However, until I know more about you, and you me, your position will simply be—mine.”
“Your sex slave?” she grinds out.
I hum thinking about that. It wouldn’t be bad, but I’m not Rich. I don’t play those dominant games. I just plain am dominant. It’s not a kink, it’s not in the bedroom only, it’s my life and the only way I can feel completely in control, a need I have.
“If I wanted a slave, I’d have purchased a slave, Stassia. I’m a man with means, I know where to find one,” I say lifting a brow.
“What do you want then?”
Using my finger, I trail a path from the inside of her ankle, slowly drawing it up to her cunt. It’s warm and still a bit wet from her orgasm. It’s ripe for my cock, ready to be toyed with, played with, and stretched. I do none of those things.
I tap her clit once, then lift my eyes to hers. “I want everything, little girl. I want everything and you’re going to give it to me.”
Taking a step back, I turn around and make my way toward the door. Wrapping my hand around the knob I freeze. Turning my head back to look at her I deliver my instructions for the evening.
“You’re free to move around the house as you so desire. When you do so, please cover your body with something appropriate. You are not permitted to leave the house, yet. I have alarms with video surveillance. I will know if you do.”
“Whitaker,” she quietly calls. I pause, my eyes finding hers and my body wanting nothing more than to run back to her bed. “I’ll be everything for you,” she whispers.
Lifting my chin proudly, I don’t doubt her not in the slightest. “We shall see, little girl.”
CHAPTER SIX
STASSIA
After a fitful night of sleep, I give up and decide to take a shower. I was afraid to wash Whitaker’s release off of me last night. Scared to make some kind of mistake. This morning, I need to be clean. Taking a long, hot shower, I’m thankful that the bathroom is stocked with everything I need, including a brand new toothbrush.
There is a lacy robe hanging in the closet so I quickly cover myself with it, not that it covers much. It’s completely see through. Still, it’s better than just being naked. Slowly, I walk over to the window, and look down.
There is grass, plants, and flowers as far as my eyes can see. I realize that this must be the back of the property. It’s gorgeous. I wonder when he’ll allow me to go down and explore the grounds. I’ve never lived somewhere so fancy in all of my life.
Granted, my father isn’t poor by any means, but he didn’t live with my mother or me. He put us up in a decent sized apartment in the middle of the city, near his office.
I always wondered if that meant my mother was the other woman. That maybe he had an entire family somewhere else, but neither of them ever said anything.
A throat clears, causing me to jump. Slowly, I turn around to see Whitaker freshly showered. His hair is damp and combed back. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a button down crisp white shirt that is rolled up at the sleeves to his mid-forearm.
He looks absolutely stunning, like a model.
“I could stare at you all day long, little girl,” he murmurs.
I smile, my cheeks hot with embarrassment. I could stare at him all day long too, especially naked. He brings a rolling cart inside, closing the door behind him, and locking it. “Breakfast. I didn’t figure you wanted to go downstairs,” he shrugs.
There’s a small sitting area in the corner of the room, the place he drug the chair from last night. It has two chairs and a small table. I watch as he sets up our breakfast. “Come and eat,” he calls.
Slowly, I walk toward him, but he doesn’t allow me to pass by. “I want you on my lap, Stassi,” he rasps.
When he leaves the A off of the end of my name, it sounds so much more intimate than anything else he’s called me until now. He sits, and drags me across his lap. I suck in a breath when his warm hands push the sheer robe off of my shoulders, exposing my breasts.
“I need to see these, fuck, even more beautiful in the daylight,” he mutters before he dips his head and captures a nipple between his lips.
His teeth graze me, then gently nip at the hardened bud. One of my hands flies into the back of his hair while my back arches closer. “Oh, my little girl likes that,” he chuckles, his warm breath fanning over my wet nipple.
“Whitaker,” I breathe as I wiggle in his lap.
He hums, moving his hand behind me, then I feel something cold against my nipple. Looking down, it’s a melon. He circles my bud, sliding it all around where his mouth just vacated. I watch as he brings the fruit to my lips.
Opening my mouth, I take the fruit from him, just as he lowers his head and licks my breast. He not only licks, he sucks, everywhere the juice left a trail on my skin. It’s the most erotic thing in the entire world.
WHITAKER
I can feel Stassia’s pussy warm, and growing wet against my thigh. My plans were to slowly break her in, make her come on my hand, and with my mouth a few dozen times. Then maybe implement some toys, so that the sheer size of my cock doesn’t hurt her.
Those plans are out the window. I need her, to own her, to feel her tight cunt around me. I need to make her mine. I feel fucking disgusting about that fact, too, yet not disgusting enough to stop myself.
“On the bed, Stassi. I need to be inside of you,” I simultaneously order and admit.
It’s not a want, it’s a need, and I’m not sure how to feel about that. I can’t remember the last time I needed something, down to my bones fucking needed, anything.
She scrambles off of my lap and I watch her tight ass as she hurries over to the bed. It’s unmade still from her night of sleep and watching her slip beneath the ice blue sheets makes my cock rock hard.
“Take off the robe,” I demand.
Her entire body shivers as she unties the flimsy thing, and tugs it off of her body, dropping it beside her discarded lace from yesterday. I divest myself of my own clothing, quickly, too fucking quickly.
Crawling in bed beside her, I place my hand on her flat stomach. She doesn’t realize it, maybe not yet, but I’m planting my baby inside of her. I’m going to watch her grow round with my child, then she’s going to give me more, so many more.
Maybe it’s selfish of me to have bought her so that I can finally have a family, have a woman who is dependent on me. A woman who isn’t conniving to get fame or fortune, one who has no choice, but to love me. She doesn’t either. She has no choice. She can’t leave me, not ever.
“Let me see you, Stassia,” I murmur.
Without hesitation she spreads her thighs, opening for me. My fingers dance down her belly, to the top of her freshly waxed pussy, then to her center. Using my fingers, I spread her lips apart, exposing all of her for my eyes. Only for my eyes.
“Whitaker, I need something,” she begs.
Lifting my eyes, I grin as I take her in. “You need your man,” I mutter.
“Yes,” she pleads. “Please.”
Releasing her pussy, I crawl between her thighs. I run my cock up and down her pussy, feeling the wetness of her cunt coat my dick.
“Open your e
yes, I want to see every second, little girl,” I demand.
Her green eyes find mine. She holds me fucking speechless as I look down at her. I want to bury myself inside of her, but I don’t. I need to take this slow, another reason why I wanted to put this off a little bit.
My control is slipping by the second. It’s finally happening. I’m finally going to have a woman of my very fucking own. One that will never leave me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
STASSIA
I can feel him press against my center, I want him to slip farther inside. I want him to make me his. I don’t know why, and maybe it’s only because he’s the only man to have ever touched me. Maybe it’s a Stockholm Syndrome thing. But maybe, just maybe, it’s what was always meant to be?
Spreading my legs even wider, I lift my hips, urging him inside. His eyes flash with something unknown. I wait and he does what I’ve silently requested. Though he doesn’t move much, just an inch or so. I moan, feeling my body stretch around him, just that little movement is enough to feel—everywhere.
“If I do what I want, I’ll hurt you. Don’t tempt me, little girl. The last thing I want to do is damage you,” he rasps.
He’s holding himself above me, his hands fisted next to my face, his forearms caging me in. The thing is, his warning? I want it, what he’s saying. I want him to hurt me and I have no idea why that sounds so delicious.
I don’t say anything, I stay quiet, my eyes focused on his brown ones, waiting and relaxing my body to adjust around him.
He pushes a bit farther inside of me, causing my breath to hitch. “You feel amazing,” I chance whispering.
His lips twitch, his eyes turn liquid right in front of my very own. “It’s going to hurt, when I’m inside, it’s going to hurt you, Stassi,” he says through his clenched teeth.
I hum, wrapping my arms around his back. “You’re going to fill me up, aren’t you Whitaker?” I say, my voice breathless.
He grunts, dipping his head until his lips are almost touching my own. “I’m going to fill you so goddamn full, Stassia,” he groans against my mouth.
His tongue fills me at the same time his cock pushes deeper inside. I gasp, the stretching sensation I loved just a moment ago, is now almost painful. Groaning, my nails dig into his back.
Whitaker rips his lips from mine, “Fuck, you’re so tight. Relax and take me, I’m not even halfway inside yet,” he grinds out.
I force my body to relax, to accept more of him, not sure if he’ll ever completely fit inside of me. One of his hands leaves the side of my head and my breath hitches when I feel it between us. I feel his thumb press against my clit, then he begins to move it in sweet circles.
“Whitaker,” I whimper.
He chuckles, his warm breath fanning my face. “Open, little girl. Let me inside,” he coos.
Whitaker continues to touch and play with my clit, his head dipping as his lips travel down my neck, then back up. He licks and sucks, kisses and gently nibbles me until I’m a panting mess. Without warning I feel pain radiate through my body and I let out a cry.
“Fuck,” he groans.
The sound is so sexy, his breathing so heavy against my neck that I push the pain out of my head, knowing what it was. I am no longer a virgin. I am now his. Owned and claimed. He pushes even deeper, until I feel the weight of his balls resting against my ass.
Whitaker lifts his head. His eyes meet mine and they’re full of wonder. I wish that I could take a picture of him right now, that I could see him this way always. It’s the most beautiful sight in the entire world.
“I’m going to fuck you now, little girl,” he warns.
I thought that’s what he was doing. I’m confused by his words, until he pulls almost completely out of me and then glides back inside. His fingers still play my clit and the combination causes a moan to escape and my eyes to automatically close.
WHITAKER
Playing with her clit, feeling the sweet little nub beneath my thumb, I hope that I can take her mind off of the pain she has to be feeling. I can’t stop myself from fucking her though. I try to regain my composure, try to take things slowly. It’s the hardest thing I’ve done in my entire goddamn life.
Her nails dig into my back, which doesn’t help my state of mind. I want to pound her tight cunt, make her scream, and beg and plead for more. Fuck.
“I’m close, Whitaker,” she breathes.
Her eyes are closed, her hips are moving beneath mine, meeting my strokes as best as she can. It’s cute, hell, it’s downright sexy as shit. I pinch her clit, feeling her cunt squeeze me then her body freezes beneath my own.
I should stop, let her ride out her orgasm, but I’m a fucking asshole, I can’t. I continue to move inside of her, shifting my hand from between us, to her pert little tit.
Finding a nipple, I pinch it with my fingers, then tug on the bud. Her back arches, a whimper escapes and only then do I let myself go. I thrust into her tight heat three more times before my balls draw up and I fill her pussy with my cum.
I stay planted deep inside of her. Unable to move, unwilling to move. Enjoying the way her pussy pulses around my dick, milking me.
Massaging her tit, I lower my head, burying my face in her neck breathing her in, tasting her sweet skin. I nibble her flesh, running my thumb along her hard nipple as I shift my hip, moving my semi-hard cock in and out of her dripping wet center.
Stassia wraps her legs and arms around me, I grunt at the sweet sensation. Moving my lips to her ear I whisper the truth to her. Something I shouldn’t admit to, but I do. “I don’t deserve you,” I state.
Her breath hitches beneath me. “I never thought it would feel this amazing,” she responds.
Lifting my head, I find her eyes with my own. Tilting my head to the side, my cock still deep inside of her, my hand still wrapped around her perfect little tit, she fucking blows my goddamn mind.
“I didn’t think I would have anyone like you. I thought it would be awful. That I would be with some abusive weirdo. Then you appeared. You’re a dream come true for a girl like me.”
Lowering my mouth, I brush my lips along hers. I don’t tell her that she is the dream come true. She is my total fucking fantasy come to life. From the inside out. She is the amazing one. She is everything.
CHAPTER EIGHT
STASSIA
Whitaker insists that I take a bath right after our morning in bed. He even brings my earlier discarded breakfast into the bathroom, and sets up a small tray next to the tub.
Standing next to me, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs his eyes roam over me. He can’t see anything through the calming eucalyptus scented bubbles, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t feel his gaze like a warm blanket lying against me, wrapping around me.
“I have some things to take care of today. Maids will be in to clean the bedding and room today. We’ll do a nice dinner tonight. There are clothes in the closet. Though they may not fit you,” he smirks. “I’ll send someone by with some dresses.”
I try to listen to all of his words. I’m stuck on bedding, and dinner. I decide to ignore my obvious embarrassment about what the sheets must look like. I know I bled. There’s no way around that, it is what it is, and I decide to live in denial about that.
“We’re going out to dinner?” I practically screech.
He lifts his lip in a grin. “Yeah, dinner with friends. I want you to meet them,” he shrugs.
I shake my head, my eyes widening at the thought. I can’t imagine what they would think of me. No way could I meet anyone. Lifting my hand to my throat, I decide that I’m going to stay here in this tower. I’m never leaving. I’ll be his dirty little secret, I don’t care.
Whitaker must sense my hesitation, my overall fear. He crouches down next to the tub, his hand lifting to cup my cheek. I close my eyes, leaning into his warm touch. Whitaker’s thumb glides along my bottom lip. Then he clears his throat and I open my eyes with a sigh.
“My friends, they all bought the
ir women, just as I’ve bought you,” he explains. “All from your father, it’s how I even knew about the place.” Frowning, I open my mouth, then snap it closed. “You’ll like them all. I promise you, little girl.”
“Dinner tonight then,” I say softly.
His smile widens and he nods. “Dinner tonight, now spread your legs,” he orders.
Without even thinking, without a second thought, I do as he’s requested. His hand abandons my cheek and slowly slides down my belly, disappearing into the water. I whimper when his fingers touch my sore center.
“God, this pussy is so sweet, Stassi,” he hums as his fingers gently play with me.
Letting my head fall back against the side of the tub, my eyes slowly close. “Whitaker,” I moan.
“You’ll be my good little girl and meet my friends, won’t you? When we come home, I’ll eat you until you come all over my mouth,” he promises.
I’ll be whatever he wants me to be, especially when his fingers touch me this gently, this sweetly. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” I exhale.
Whitaker chuckles, his fingers never penetrating me, only playing, as he leans over and presses his lips to mine. “I know you will, Stassia. Goddamn, I know you will,” he growls.
His lips press against mine, then he suddenly pulls away and stands. I let out a whimper, my body having climbed close toward a release.
“Don’t play, little girl. I’ll be back later and I’ll make you feel good,” he winks and then he turns away from me and disappears.
I watch the door, hoping that he returns, but he doesn’t. only then do I reach for the small croissant that is on the plate. I eat that, then finish the bowl of fruit while soaking in the tub.
I try not to think about the dinner later, or the fact that I shouldn’t feel as happy as I do right now. I should be miserable. Scared, and disgusted with the fact that this man purchased me.