“Ella, stop,” I told her angrily. “You’ll cut yourself. I’ll have it replaced. You’re not a fucking servant.”
“But I am,” she whispered, blinking away tears. “That’s exactly what I am, isn’t it?”
“Ella,” I said, my voice rough. “That’s not what you are. That may be your job, but it’s not what you fucking are.”
She looked down at the floor and let the tears fall. Seeing her cry like that pissed me the hell off, making me want to slap myself for putting her in that position. God, I was a damn moron for saying what I’d said, and now I had no way of taking it back.
“I’m sorry, Ella,” I said. “I’m so sorry for what I said, I really shouldn’t have.”
“It’s okay,” she muttered.
I muttered her name. Slowly, she looked up at me, those blue eyes filled to the brim and her bottom lip trembling. I tried to fight the instincts she woke inside of me, tried to pretend it didn’t make me hard as fuck seeing her so vulnerable, but I couldn’t stop the groan that escaped my lips. And she knew—she must have, because the corners of her lips turned upwards.
“Do you even know what you’re doing to me, princess?” I asked her slowly, and she looked away shyly. “Look at me, Ella. I want you always looking at me.”
“I’m s-sorry,” she stammered, finally returning her gaze to mine.
“Don’t be sorry,” I told her, my hands going to her, unable to resist her siren call anymore.
I had to touch her. Had to feel her skin under my fingertips and see what it felt like under my touch. She made me feel like a very, very bad man. So innocent and pure, and all I wanted to do was to fucking ruin her, make her submit, make her mine completely until she begged me to own her. I knew exactly what kind of collar she would wear for me, and I couldn’t fucking wait to place it on her slender, pale neck.
“Ella,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I need to touch you. I’m sorry, I just fucking need to. Is that okay, princess?”
She gave me a small nod and I could tell she was scared as fuck, but I was past the point of caring. She wanted this as badly as I did, she just couldn’t put it into words.
I reached out for her, my fingers wrapping around her upper arm, gently pulling her against my body.
“Tell me to kiss you again,” I said, and her mouth parted with a little gasp.
“Kiss me,” she said, and before the words were fully out of her mouth, I was on her, my mouth against hers, taking what I already fucking owned.
I pulled her against me, and her petite body trembled. She was shivering, a mess of nerves and need as I held her up and made her submit.
“I’m sorry,” I said, tearing my lips from hers for just one second. “I have to taste you.”
“Taste me where?” she whispered. “Please, Rafe, I want you to…”
I kissed a line down from her lips, over her chin and down to her neck, kissing her shoulders, tasting every inch of her sinfully sweet skin. She was decadent, like a fucking delicious dessert I shouldn’t have been having, but it tempted me with its sugary sweetness and the cherry on top… And I couldn’t get enough.
“Between your legs,” I growled at her. “I want to taste your pussy, princess.”
She mewled as I grabbed her thighs and lifted her up on the counter. Her thighs were trembling with need as I parted her legs, clawing at her pants to get them off. I managed to pull them off to her knees, groaning at the sight of the panties she was wearing. Another pair for my collection, midnight blue this time, with the same lace trim as the pair I had. And there was a little wet spot at the center, soaking through the fabric and making her clench her legs together.
“Too late, princess,” I ground out. “I already saw it.”
She cried out as I lifted her ass off the counter and tugged her panties to her knees. Her pussy was right in front of me, the scent of her so intoxicatingly sweet, I thought I was going to lose my mind on the spot. I could fucking taste her in my mouth and my tongue wasn’t even on her. Sweetness so fucking intoxicating I could have eaten it for days.
I lowered myself between her legs and my little princess’ fingers wrapped in my hair, pulling hard.
“Please, Rafe,” she begged.
“Please what?” I asked roughly, and she gave me a pleading little look that only served to make me harder. “Tell me to have a taste. Tell me you’ve been saving it for me, princess.”
“Have a taste,” she begged. “Please Rafe, one taste… Just one lick, I want to feel it…”
I buried my face between her thighs, groaning at the overwhelming sweetness of her cunt. She tasted fucking divine, almost too much for my mouth. I sucked at her, unable to make myself lick because I wanted to fucking imprint the way her snatch tasted on my tongue. I sucked her clit in my mouth and she bucked her hips, letting out a cry, desperately pushing her pussy into my mouth.
“Rafe!” she cried out. “Please, oh my God, please. Don’t stop, don’t stop!”
I kept sucking her, my teeth grazing her swollen little clit and dragging out her pleasure until she was acting like a little whore, desperately begging me to do more, to bring her to a release she didn’t even understand yet. I fucking licked her, long licks from her tight little asshole all the way to her clit, tasting, filling my mouth with her syrup and making it run down my chin. She was drenched, her tight little pussy soaking my stubble and running down my face. I couldn’t stop, though. I couldn’t fucking stop myself, like I was a man possessed, intent on having that pussy all over me, intent on making her come so good she’d never forget it.
“Oh God,” she mewled. “It’s too much, Rafe, it’s too much! I’m going to…”
Her fingers pulled on my hair and she gasped and gasped and gasped as I went to town on her little snatch. Fucking untouched. No man’s land, until I claimed it for myself. I was going to fucking devour her, whether she let me or not.
I knew she was close, her bucking hips telling me it was a matter of seconds before she came apart in my arms. And I kept going because there was no way I could stop anymore. I felt my cock growing so painfully hard in my pants, I thought I was going to fucking explode, and just as it almost got to be too much, she cried out her release.
I sucked that little clit while she shuddered, mewled and begged, the words coming out of her mouth barely words at all, just little moans and screams and pleases.
And that’s when I heard the front door opening.
I moved away from her and Ella protested with a small moan. I pulled her panties and pants over her thoroughly tongue-fucked pussy and pulled her off the counter. She stumbled, and I made her lean on me, her body shivering as her stepmother walked into the room.
“Ella!” she said with surprise, her eyes going to me. “Mr. Goldwyn…”
“Hello, Martha,” I said simply. “Sorry to disturb. I came to make sure Ella got my invitation to the ball.”
“Invitation…” her face paled and she deliberately ignored what I’d said, instead focusing on the mess on the floor. “Ella! Did you break one of the mugs?”
“That was me,” I said. “I’ll make sure someone comes to clean it.”
“Nonsense,” Martha waved a hand. “Ella will do it.”
“No,” I insisted. “I’ll send someone over. I’ll tell them to clean the second bedroom out too. I hear it’s a little… overrun with clothes.”
She paled further at my words and Ella trembled in my arms. I made sure she was okay to stand, pinching that tight little ass and making her gasp before I moved away from her.
“I’ll be going now,” I said simply. “I’ll see you at the ball.”
I felt their stares on my retreating back, and I turned back, licking my lips.
“Thanks for dessert, Ella,” I winked at her, and closed the front door behind me.
I T WAS THE DAY OF the ball, and I felt the butterflies going strong in my stomach, their wings beating against me and making me panic.
I hadn’t settled
on a dress, had no idea how I was going to get there, and I had no invite… But I was determined. I would go to that dance, and after the clock struck midnight, I would rush to the bus stop for my late-night ride to a different city, where I would start a new life. The money Edna had given me, and my own savings would be enough to tide me over for a few weeks, and I would find a job as soon as possible and start making more.
My thoughts were filled with the magical Christmas ball as I scrubbed the fireplace down, soot settling everywhere on my skin. I was a mess, and I didn’t even want to think about getting the ashes off my body when I started to get ready for the dance. But there was one more obstacle I had barely thought about… and now she was standing right before me, impatiently tapping the heel of her shoe against the hardwood. I winced and looked up.
“Ella,” Martha said in a voice I knew meant trouble. “What are you doing?”
I got to my feet and winced at the expression on her face.
“Cleaning the fireplace, like you told me t-to,” I stuttered. “I’m almost done.”
“Are you crazy?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “What about my dress? It hasn’t been pressed yet, and you need to stretch out my shoes as well, you know they’re a size too small!”
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, my cheeks coloring as I averted my gaze. “I guess I got distracted.”
“That’s no excuse,” she insisted, grabbing my arm.
I resisted, but she wouldn’t let go, so I glared at her, saying, “So you are still going to the ball?”
“Why is that a question?” she laughed in my face. “Of course I’m going to the ball, you silly girl. I got an invitation, didn’t I?”
“I… I think…” I started, my words hanging in the air unspoken.
“You think what?” Martha’s eyes cut through me like daggers. “Well, speak up!”
“I think the in-invitation w-was meant for me,” I stammered. “I m-mean, Rafael said so when he w-was here.”
“Rafael?” Martha repeated, then pulled on my arm once again, more painfully this time around.
I gasped and let go of my dirty rag as she dragged me to the full-length mirror on the wall in the entryway.
“Look at yourself, Ella,” she said, making me look up. “What do you see when you look in the mirror?”
I raised my eyes fearfully to my own reflection.
The girl that stared back at me looked nothing like the old me before my dad passed away. The girl in the mirror had a different body—she’d grown up and blossomed into a woman. But she didn’t look happy. In fact, with the soot covering her hands and her downturned mouth, she looked miserable. The only sign of life was in her eyes. They sparkled with hopes and dreams, the ones her stepmother hadn’t trampled to death just yet.
“Me,” I replied simply, and she sighed.
“Exactly,” she exclaimed. “It’s you, Ella. And you really think a man like Mr. Goldwyn—don’t you dare call him Rafael—would invite you to his ball?”
She laughed and my stomach fell. I felt sick.
“Never, Ella,” she went on. “So why don’t you just accept that and move on? Time to get to work, isn’t it? My dress isn’t going to iron itself.”
“Yes, Martha,” I whispered, turning away from the mirror because I couldn’t face the tears in my eyes.
“Oh, what’s this?” she said awkwardly, and I looked up at her, the tears threatening to fall. “Don’t be sad, Ella. You will find someone who cares about you.”
“But not you, and not Raf… Mr. Goldwyn,” I added bitterly, and she gave me the fakest smile I’d seen in my life. “It’s okay. I will do what you asked.”
I moved away from her, her voice ringing in my ears as I took the stairs two at a time.
“I didn’t ask you Ella, it was an order!”
The hours passed slowly, and as time went on, I felt lower and lower.
I watched Martha get ready for the ball, putting on her over-the-top gown that was much too young for her, and a pair of staggeringly tall heels she could barely walk in. She completed the ensemble with a tiara that looked plastic and painfully cheap. She was a princess, she said, winking at me and saying she would soon be a queen.
I didn’t say anything, I knew better than that. One wrong word and I’d have a punishment hanging over my head.
I said goodbye to her at the door, watching her get in the limo she’d hired. It was a little pretentious, but once again, I kept my mouth shut and my eyes down, so she wouldn’t question anything.
The dream of going to the ball was well and truly over. And this thing between Rafael and me… obviously it was nothing. I was nothing but a momentary distraction to him, and once he’d gotten his fill, he’d forgotten all about me. What else was I expecting? The man could have any woman in the world, so why should he settle for little old me? I was inexperienced, and my looks couldn’t compare to the models he went out with. I looked like a child next to them.
Once I was left alone, I started packing my things.
I didn’t have a lot. Mostly everything had been taken away or lost in the move, according to my stepmother. But what little I had fit perfectly into a small backpack I’d had for years. I packed some clothes and a few things I couldn’t leave behind, like a small book of fairy tales my dad used to read to me from when I was a little girl. Once I was done, I looked around the house, feeling detached from my surroundings. I missed the house where I’d lived with my father, but I wouldn’t miss this one. Apart from Rafe’s visit, there were no good memories here, just dreams withering away. And even that memory was tainted now, ruined by my stepmother.
With a sigh, I checked the weight of my backpack. I was putting on my shoes, thinking I should leave early, when I heard a timid knock on the door.
I opened it wide to find Edna on the doorstep holding a big cardboard box.
“Hello,” I said with a big smile. “I was going to come and see you today, before…”
“The big ball?” she asked excitedly, stepping inside.
“Before I left,” I finished, and she furrowed her brows at me.
“Why aren’t you ready?” she asked. “I have the dress! I found the perfect one.”
She offered the cardboard box to me, and I smiled softly.
“I’m not going, Edna,” I said simply. “Martha will be there, and I can’t risk her seeing me. If she knew I was going against her rules, she’d punish me… I’d never be able to get away in time for my bus.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” she replied. “I will make sure she doesn’t know you’re there, darling. And you’re going to have an amazing time before you leave. Please. Trust me.”
I looked into her kind eyes and sighed, my fingers trembling as I took the box from her.
“Please, Ella,” she repeated. “Trust me on this. I really want you to go, have fun. Just for me.”
“For you?” I grinned at her, and she returned the smile. “Okay, maybe just for you, because you are my best friend.”
“Yes!” She clapped her hands excitedly. “I cannot wait. Come here, let me help you get ready. We have to do your hair… your makeup… and try on the dress!”
I giggled as she led me upstairs. Her excitement was contagious, and not even a few minutes later, I found myself just as jittery and happy as she was. She had me sit down at the vanity in Martha’s room, and I fidgeted nervously as Edna got everything ready. She had my hair up in hot rollers and started applying makeup with an expert hand.
“I still have what it takes,” she grinned at me. “I learned how to do this years and years ago. I will make you look amazing, darling!”
She didn’t apply too much, nothing like showgirl makeup. But once she was done, my face was transformed—and… kind of sexy.
“Edna!” I said, raising a hand to my lips. “Wow, this is incredible. I can’t believe you can do makeup this well.”
“You think this is all natural?” she asked, pointing to her face, and we both giggled.
She did my hair next. Curled and teased and styled it, until it fell down my shoulders in beautiful, thick waves. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, hardly believing the girl was the same as the one downstairs.
Once she was done, Edna brought out the big cardboard box and clapped her hands with excitement, waiting for me to open it.
I undid the ribbon on top and dug through the layers of tissue paper until I brought out a dress.
Not just a dress… the dress.
It was a strapless gown, the top a gorgeous corset that went down into a tight skirt that flared out around the knees. It was a nude color, covered in incredible silver jewels and sequins that made it sparkle in the light like nothing else I’d seen before. It was truly a dress fit for a princess.
“Edna,” I whispered, completely taken aback. “I… I didn’t see this dress when we were going through your closet the other day.”
“No, you didn’t,” she said gently, coming to sit on the bed across from me. “I had it in the back of my closet, I forgot to bring it out. This is a very special dress, Ella…”
She smiled softly, and I could tell she was getting a little choked up.
“I wore this dress the night I fell in love,” she whispered, but then shook her head and gave me a bright smile as if nothing at all had happened. “Well, I would love to see it on you, darling.”
“Of course,” I nodded, giving her hand a little squeeze. “You’re okay, Edna? Promise?”
“I’m fine,” she waved me off. “Now try it on, we don’t have a lot of time left!”
I took the dress to the bathroom and struggled to get it on, unable to do the corset up at the back. I walked out worried, holding up the dress, and Edna gasped when she saw it.
“I know,” I sighed. “The back just won’t do up properly…”
“Ella,” she interrupted. “Look at yourself, darling. Look in the mirror.”
I stepped in front of the vanity and glanced at my reflection, but the moment my eyes connected with the glass, I couldn’t tear them away.
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