by Sierra Cole
“I did,” she sighs. “Three times. But it seems like somebody’s too busy sitting in here thinking to hear their door.”
“So?” I snap back, just wishing she would leave me the hell alone so that I can return to my thoughts of Alisha ... “What exactly do you want?”
“I’m just here to remind his Highness,” she shoots back, totally unfazed by my bad mood, “that you have that dinner meeting with Herbert Malchovic of Malchovic Finance scheduled for eight o’ clock. Remember? That same dinner meeting that you’ve been on at me all month to arrange.”
Goddammit, I think, cursing the poor timing. I was dearly hoping to get back to the house at a reasonable hour, in order to have a little more fun with Alisha, really get my money’s worth ...
And I’m about to tell Julia to just cancel or reschedule the damn meeting, when I remember all over again just how fucking important Malchovic is, not to mention how much work I put in convincing him to have this dinner meeting with me in the first place.
“Thank you Julia,” I sigh. “Is that everything?”
She nods and turns, heading out of the office and leaving me once more alone with my thoughts – thoughts which immediately flash back to Alisha.
But I need to be careful here.
I need to make sure I don’t let myself fall any deeper for this girl.
I need to remember to just take what I want from her and then ...
I snatch up the phone on my desk and dial through to the house.
“Hello, Whitelaw residence?” comes Helena’s crisp clear voice.
“Helena, it’s me,” I say. “Listen, I’m not going to be able to make it home for dinner tonight, but I’d like you to pass on a message to Alisha ...”
“Certainly, Sir,” Helena replies.
I smile to myself.
I know I can trust Helena to relay this message ...
§
Alisha
As I stroll along the endless rack of dresses, letting my fingers run over them, I wonder which one of these amazing garments I’ll choose for dinner with Marcus ... Maybe this slinky black number? Or perhaps this beautiful sequined ball gown?
But just then I hear a soft knock on the door. My heart leaps, and I race over to the door.
It’s Helena.
“Ah, Madam,” she smiles. “I’ve just come to let you know that Mr Whitelaw shall be working in the city until rather late this evening, and dining there too, and so I’m afraid you shall be eating alone tonight. I could set the table for you in the Livingstone Suite if you want, or if you would prefer I could have something brought up to your room?”
“Sure,” I say, trying to force a polite smile, “brought to the room would be great. Thanks, Helena.”
But she must be able to tell by the way my face falls slightly that I’m perhaps a little disappointed, because she adds with a cheerful that-isn’t-all grin, “However, I am also to let you know that Mr Whitelaw has requested your company for cocktails in his bedroom as soon as he returns home.”
And with that she gives me a little wink, before letting the door fall closed, leaving me there, head spinning, unable to work out whether the sudden new feeling that flashing through me is excitement or nerves ... or maybe both.
Alisha
I pause for a moment outside the door to Marcus’s room, dressed in a long black cocktail dress. Every single hair on my body feels like it’s standing on end in anticipation of what’s to come – because tonight, I have a feeling we’re about to go a little bit further than we did last night, maybe even all the way ...
I reach out timidly, then knock gently on the door.
“Come in,” he says, his voice as low and assured as always, sending a rippling charge of excitement roaring through me.
I push open the door and there he is, siting on the edge of the bed. He stands as I enter the room, then plucks two frosted martini glasses from a little side table and approaches, handing one to me.
I take a sip of the mysterious cloudy liquid.
Wow.
It’s strong, but tastes amazing – just like everything else in this place.
“What is it?” I ask, tasting vodka mixed in with citrus fruits and something else too – a gentle sweet note, cutting through the strength and bitterness.
“It’s a balalaika,” he replies with an enigmatic smile. “Equal parts Cointreau, vodka and lemon juice. It’s my favorite. Please, let yourself enjoy it. Really give yourself up to it. Let it activate your senses. Because as I said before, Alisha, all I want this week is to give you pleasure, to bring you alive, to yourself, and to the possibilities of your body ...”
I can feel myself trembling now, from a heady mixture of nervousness and excitement, as he closes in, bringing his face towards mine and reaching out to take the glass from my hand. He places it behind me on a bureau and then leans in to kiss me, and when he does, I feel myself melt, tasting the sweet sharpness of the cocktail on the velvety softness of lips, as his tongue pushes so deep into my mouth and his hands slide around behind my back, the touch of his fingertips leaving electric crackles in their wake.
“I need you naked Alisha,” he growls, the moment our lips part again. “If I have to wait one second longer, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice but to tear that fucking dress from your body.”
I take a quick step back, unable to let him tear such a beautiful garment, reaching behind my back with nervous shaky fingers to unzip it, letting it quickly slip to the floor. And this time, as I unclasp my bra and step out of my panties, I feel slightly more confident.
I mean, it still feels kind of weird, to be naked like this in front of him, but now that I’ve done it once before, it kind of feels okay, too.
Once again, I feel his eyes roving hungrily over my skin.
“God,” he murmurs, tracing his fingers lightly over my collarbone, then downwards, tantalizingly close to my erect left nipple, “Your skin is absolutely divine. I’ve never felt skin like it... so soft, so perfect.”
All of a sudden, he lifts me easily off the floor and carries me to the bed, placing me gently on the edge of it so that I’m sitting, facing into the room.
And then he begins to undress, too, starting with his tie, then slipping off his blazer, and then unbuttoning his crisp white shirt, uncovering a body beneath that is both lean yet muscular, so broad and strong compared to my own slender frame. It’s like I just can’t tear my eyes away from him, and I can tell that he doesn’t mind me watching him either, as he slowly uncovers even more of himself. I hold my breath clutched tightly in my chest as he undoes the laces of his brogues, slips them off along with his black socks, and then, finally, begins to unbuckle his belt.
As he bends down to slip his slacks and boxer shorts in one quick easy movement over his muscular thighs and then down around his ankles, I’m unable to contain the soft gasp of surprise that escapes my lips when I register just how damn big his cock is. I might never have seen one in real life before, but even so, I can still tell that this one isn’t a regular size. It’s large and twitching and flushed a deep purple color, so thick and long, jutting upwards between his muscular thighs, as if it wants to leap right off his body and attack me ...
He smiles when he notices my shock, then calmly and confidently nods down towards it, nestled there in its fuzzy crop of dusky brown hair, his balls smoothly shaven, so round and swollen and tight beneath, and says, “I’m guessing you’ve not seen one of these before?”
I know there’s no point in lying, so with an embarrassed blush, I shake my head.
“Dear girl, you’re even more inexperienced than I’d guessed,” he replies gently. “But don’t worry. As I said before, we’ll take this nice and slow ...”
And at this, he sits down next to me on the silk sheets.
“So I take it you’ve never touched a cock before, then?” he murmurs.
I feel my blush increase as I shake my head a second time, and a moment later he takes my hand and guided it between his leg
s, curling my slender fingers around the hot thick shaft of that thing that juts so proudly from between his legs.
I sit there, frozen in heart-pounding shame and embarrassment, my fingers curled around it, feeling a soft pulse throb within it, as if in time to his heartbeat.
“Here, like this,” he murmurs, guiding my hand so that it begins to slide up and down the shaft. He takes his hand away as I continue to stroke him, and with another shiver of surprise I feel him grow even larger and harder in my grip.
And as I masturbate him on my own like that, he moves his fingers once more between my legs, too, this time pushing them right up inside me, then withdrawing them again, and I find myself spreading my legs even wider to allow him easier access, the powerful shivery sensation of an orgasm quickly growing in my stomach and flashing out all around my body in tingling waves of heat, as all the while I stroke him, sensing that my fingers are causing him just as much pleasure as his are inside me, hearing him sigh and groan as my fingers slide up and down the thick and throbbing hardness of his shaft, gliding over the smoothness of his skin which is slicked so wet now from the clear beads of liquid that are seeping steadily from the slit at the bulbous head of his dick.
“Now lie back on the bed,” he says, taking his hand from between my legs, and then lifting my hand away from his cock too.
I do just as he asks, my whole body still shivering and trembling with the sensations that are coursing through it, my heart pounding and my nipples so tight and hard upon my chest now that they actually hurt, as if some invisible hand is pinching them.
I lie back upon the bed, and a moment later he’s climbed right over me, covering me utterly with his broad muscular body, the heat of his skin and the spicy musk of his scent filling my senses so completely, causing my dizzy head to spin and whirl all over again.
“Now this may hurt a little at first,” he say gently, and I notice that at some point he must have opened a package of condoms, because now his cock is encased in a thin translucent sheen of rubber as he starts to guide it right between my legs, touching the throbbing tip of it to my tight wet opening, “but just relax as much as you can, Alisha, and I promise you that soon, very soon, this will bring you even greater pleasures than you’ve ever experienced ...”
I try to do as he says and let myself relax, but I can’t help but worry about the sheer size of that thing between his legs. Did he really expect to try and push something as long and thick as that inside me?
But even so, I stay as silent as I can beneath him, biting my lip and parting my legs as wide as they’ll go, bracing myself as, sure enough, I feel him push his thick hotness just a little way inside me, already stretching me so wide with just that first damn inch that I fear I might tear right in two.
I gasp as he pushes himself even further inside me, and he pauses for a moment, his mouth moving to my neck, covering it with a flurry of such soft and delicious kisses that I feel myself softening and relaxing, spreading my legs wider, shivering and trembling beneath him, his hand now moving to my left breast, once more thumbing the taught little bud of my nipple, sending fresh sensations of pleasure rippling right through me before he again pushes a little deeper inside me, causing me to cry out. But this time, my cry is half from pain and half from pleasure, as if the two sensations have somehow mixed together to create something totally new – a new kind of feeling.
And slowly but surely, he begins to slide that thick hot cock of his in and out of my pussy, each slow thrust he makes with his hips causing the sensation to build and grow inside me, half pleasure, half pain, sending me squirming and shivering beneath him, as I sigh and moan and writhe, my body so small and frail, pinned to the silk sheets beneath his strong hot mass, my senses filled utterly with him now, his heat and musk, my fingers dancing over the rippling muscular broadness of his back as he increases his thrusts, driving himself harder inside me, harder and harder, my moans growing louder, the flashing sensations building in my tummy until they bubble forward in a great rush, my whole body suddenly shuddering and trembling as I come, hard, so much harder than I’ve ever come before.
And just at that moment, he closes his lips over mine, his tongue pushing deep into my mouth, as deep as his cock seems to drive within me, and with a final shudder, I feel his whole body tense, and then, so fucking deep inside me, he begins to pulse and twitch as he too comes.
In the shimmering silence afterwards, I feel him tenderly slip himself out of me again, and I dart a quick glance between my legs, registering a thin sheen of redness on the rubber that’s still wrapped tight around his cock, just before he turns away from me and removes it, then turns back, drawing me into him now with a slow, comforting hug.
We lie there in the dark for a while like that, and the only sound is the soft shiver of our breath and the faint rustle of the trees from the lush countryside surrounding the house.
“Are you okay?” he asks eventually, tenderly stroking my cheek with his finger.
I nod.
“And it didn’t hurt too much?”
“It hardly hurt at all,” I reply. “Well, it kind of did,” I add, “but in a good way, if that makes sense?”
“Oh that makes total sense,” he murmurs. “And I promise you, my girl, that there shall be plenty more pleasures like that for you in the coming nights ...”
At this, he leans forward and places a tender kiss on my forehead, and I’m about to wrap my arms around him and draw him even closer towards me when all of a sudden he pushes himself up onto his elbows.
“And now I think it’s time you went back to your room now, don’t you?” he says, a strange new coldness entering his voice, an unreadable expression taking control of his face
Wow. It’s like he suddenly transforms into another person – so quickly, so easily.
I don’t know what to say. How to answer. And in the end I don’t say anything at all. I just nod silently in agreement, then quickly collect my clothes and do as he says – leaving him the hell alone.
§
Marcus
As the door softly closes behind her, I lay back in bed, wishing I still smoked. This would be the perfect moment to light up a cigarette. I feel utterly content, utterly satiated, utterly at peace.
I mean, sure. Perhaps I was the teensiest bit cold with her afterwards – but that’s for the best, now, isn’t it? It would do no good whatsoever to let myself fall any deeper for this girl than I have already. Okay, so her body is totally amazing, and I’ll be sure to enjoy it to my heart’s content over the course of the week.
But then once the week’s over? Well, I just need to make sure I don’t find myself moping around and mooning after her like some kind of love sick schoolboy, now do I?
And what’s more, I don’t want her falling for me, either. The last thing in the world I want to do is break that poor kid’s heart.
Because she deserves someone better than me. Some pure, like herself.
No, it’s best in the long run for both of us if this remains exactly what it is – a simple transaction. Nothing more, nothing less.
She’s a smart girl.
I’m sure she understands ...
§
Alisha
It’s all I can do not to burst into tears. I’ve spent the whole of the morning going over what happened last night, replaying it all in my head, again and again and again. It’s stupid really; I mean, I guess I knew all along that this was how it was gonna go – that he was going to fuck me and then lose interest in me. And really, I shouldn’t feel any better than I do.
But even so.
I just feel so damn shitty.
I feel like trash ... Like a whore.
And you know why that is?
It’s because he asked me to leave afterwards. He didn’t even want to spend the rest of the night with me. That’s what gets me, what makes it sting so much.
I mean, the sex itself was ... well, it was amazing. Breathtaking, in fact. So much better than I’d ever imagined it
would be. And it was tender and romantic too. He was surprisingly careful with me. He really took his time. And honestly, I couldn’t imagine my first time being any better.
But then he goes and ruins everything like that afterwards – reminding me that I’m no better than a cheap whore?
Fuck you, Marcus Whitelaw.
For a minute there you had me fooled. But now I can see that you’re no better than anyone else. You’re just like all those guys that used to come to visit my mom – as soon as you’ve got what you want, then that’s it, isn’t it?
I fight back another urge to stuff my face into my pillow and just scream my damn lungs out.
I guess the thing that smarts the most is that it’s true, isn’t it?
I am nothing better than a whore ...
Marcus
God damn work. Why the hell didn’t I just take the whole week off? What was I even thinking? First it was the dinner from hell with that boring old crone Malchovic last night, and now Greg’s reminding me that it’s his fucking birthday drinks tonight, too?!
A part of me is considering bailing on him – just telling him I’m feeling unwell and going home ... Home to her.
But another part of me knows that I shouldn’t let this girl get any deeper under my skin. And I can still take my time. I don’t need to go running home – to her or anyone.
I’m the one in control here.
I need to remember that.
And I’ve still got plenty of time to enjoy that perfect body of hers ... That perfect pussy.
God, I just need to taste her – to taste that sweetness on my tongue, to make her come with my mouth, with my cock ... to possess her completely ...
She’s like an addiction.
And maybe, just maybe, I’m already hooked ...
§
Alisha
That night, I find myself waiting in my room for him again. I’ve even picked out my outfit: a figure-hugging dress, chosen specifically to show off my best assets, clinging so tightly to my skin it leaves nothing to the imagination, all in the hope of making him want me again. I know Helena told me that he was working late again tonight, but even so, I guess I just want to see him, maybe because if I do, in those precious moments when he’s focusing on me, then I won’t feel so much like a trashy, worthless whore.