by Celia Crown
Those who don’t see me this time should consider themselves lucky. I’m lucky myself to be close to the young girl who’s been plaguing my mind since the last time I saw her.
I couldn’t wait any longer when I got to my home. I was stalking around in my office and dispersing tasks to my men as they will be the acting collector to get my money back.
I consider myself to be a reasonable man, giving myself a week before I see her was not going to work in a million of years. The pull between us is too strong. I crave to set my grey eyes on her sweet, little body.
Glancing over, I see her tiny fingers ruffling the edge of her dress. Her soft skin is exposed more than I’m comfortable of letting others see; it’s mine to admire and touch while she crumbles in pleasure.
My knuckles turn white on the steering wheel; I flex my fingers to ease the tension in my joints. Taking one hand off the wheel, I set it on her thigh, circling my fingers around her inner thigh to hear her squeak.
Her thighs clench tight, trapping my fingers between them, and I bite back a groan as my cock throbs in heated passion.
“Stop it,” I snap.
Her round tits jump, and her brown eyes gaze at me with a red face. She holds my wrist as I grip the plumpness of her thigh. She mewls, chewing on her bottom lip as she squirms in the seat.
“You stop it,” she pouts, knotting her eyebrows.
I rub her skin, dividing my attention dangerously between her and the streets. She’s no match for me so she gives up on trying to wring my hand away from her. Accepting her fate that she’s in my hands now can only benefit her.
I park the car in front of a restaurant that isn’t well-known by many; only the locals that have lived here for years can find this place.
I escort her out of the car with my arm around her waist, laying strong and heavy on her hip to steer her towards the entryway.
Someone comes out to greet us. The host knows me by name. I come to this place when I just need a night off from all the bullshit I have to deal with. It’s a quiet place that allows me to submerge into my thoughts and let my guard down for a split second.
“The regular, sir?” The host asks me after he gets us to the VIP room and seated us with soft jazz music playing over us.
I nod, catching a glimpse of Rebecca giving an odd facial expression to the host. My eyebrows raise to my hairline as I run my hand over her leg again.
“What are you doing?” I ask, with a pinch to her skin that makes her wince.
She scowls at me, “I’m sending him a message about this unlawful captivity through telepathy.”
“You got into my car,” I tell her, raking my nails on the tender parts of her thigh. She squeals in shock, slapping my hand from her leg with a scrunch of her nose.
“It’s hard to say no to you, for all the wrong reasons.” Rebecca pulls up my hand, and I let her weak strength move it back to my lap.
I take the chance to thread her fingers through mine; her gasp showing annoyance comes through as she wiggles her fingers to get lost. My hold is iron-clad; she’s not going to get away no matter how much she struggles.
“Stop moving,” I raise my voice, and her reaction is immediate; her body goes rigid, and eyes become wide in a burst of fright.
I want to hold her hand, but I also don’t want her to hurt herself by defying what I want. She will have to be wary of me for now. Sooner or later, she’ll understand that I mean no harm to her. I may come off as the man hounding her for my money back, but I couldn’t care less about that.
“Regular for me, and she will take your special,” I say to the host without taking my eyes off Rebecca who seems to be frozen.
The host leaves with the door shutting behind him. The room is quiet other than the music and the shuddering breathing of hers.
“Do I scare you?”
Her head bobs, and her doe-eyes don’t blink as she watches my movements. Slowly raising my hand from her thigh to her face, I keep it nice and open for her to see as she inches back. I need her to witness that there is no malice behind my touches, only firm affection and possessive caresses.
She is mine, and the sooner she realizes that the better it is for her. I’m not intentionally hiding what I want from her. She’s just too oblivious to see what I'm trying to do. She thinks that I’m a loan shark out to butter her up before sinking my teeth in her plump flesh, and then I would hunt down my money.
Not half wrong, I want her writhing underneath me all night long.
“Why would you send a steak for breakfast?” She starts, furrowing her eyebrows.
I reply plainly, “It’s for you.”
Steaks are high in protein, and she needs that to burn carbohydrates to get the energy to go on with her day. I’m providing her adequate nutrition as it is her last semester before she graduates. I can only imagine the stress she is under right now. It’s a shame that I don’t know if she will eat or not during stressful times, so I rather be prepared for her if she doesn’t eat on her own.
“I would say normal people don’t do this, but then you’re not exactly normal,” she sighs, flicking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“But, you didn’t eat it,” I say. It’s a fact that she doesn’t repute.
“Which is why we’re here,” she deduces, and I nod at her speed of catching up.
I’m not positive if I’m proud of her for realizing it now or that she realized it at all. Nevertheless, the moment her eyes brighten at her intelligence, I wouldn’t be the one to dim that radiance.
“I’m sorry I didn’t eat it,” she murmurs, “Moira ate it all.”
My body goes colder at the thought of that woman. She’s trying to fuck up my chance with Rebecca. Proving that I can prove for Rebecca is a caveman kind of thing to do, but this primitive behavior derives from this sudden and welcomed obsession I have for her.
I can't explain it, but I feel at home when I’m with her.
I am a man with the body of a predator, and she’s a girl with a body not suited for harsh conditions. Something in me commands me to provide for her and let her live a comfortable life, in which she bears me children while I break apart her fears.
Unexplainable and bizarre, I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world, not for money, not for wealth, and surely not for my own safety.
“It must be expensive,” Rebecca said, sighing and toying with her dress. “How can I pay you back? Do you just put it in my debt?”
It was a gift for her and her stupid roommate ate it, but I can overlook it while Rebecca looks wary of my words. Anything I do does not affect her debt; hell, it’s already wiped off this planet. She doesn’t have to worry about it ever again, but I want to use this advantage to keep myself around her until my presence is fused with hers.
“It was expensive,” I said, watching her adorable face pale.
She should eat the best, wear the best, and sleep on the best. I won’t tolerate anything less, but I doubt she will take it lightly that I redesigned her room or put her in my home. Easing her into this would be better for her mental state; overwhelming her is the last thing I want to do to her.
“I’m sorry?” She squeaks softly, “You can’t really blame me for not eating; it smells heavy.”
“Not your taste?” I inquire, fishing for more information.
She grimaces, “Not for mornings.”
Then she straightens her back, turning stiffly towards me as she fists her dress on her thighs.
“Thank you for the breakfast; it’s really nice of you.” She smiles shyly, turning her chin to her shoulder as bashfulness flushes her cheeks.
“I’ll pay you back for it, I promise,” Rebecca nods her head determinedly.
“You can do it now,” I suggest, caging her body as I press my hand on her chair.
Her eyes widen, “How?”
We’re inches away, so the gesture itself should be self-explanatory, but this is Rebecca and her naivety to the male species.
“Kiss me,” I
say with no shame.
Her face burns as she stammers out things that don’t make sense. She tries again, and this time, it’s better as she had the time to spew out jumbled thoughts before.
“But—”
I cut her off, “It’s a one-time offer, Rebecca.”
It must have clicked in her mind that I’m being generous to her because her lips are on mine in a hasty, chaste kiss that leaves me stunned and unsatisfied. It’s all teeth and no skills; it shines with her inexperience.
“What the hell was that?” I frown, cupping the back of her neck.
Her body stays perfectly still, “A kiss?”
“Then, what do you call this?” I press my lips on hers gently, letting her get used to the sensation as her words are swallowed by her own muffles.
Her sweet lips, her feminine scent, and everything about her are intoxicating. I’m going drunk under her influence, and I never want it to stop.
I slant my mouth harder against hers, eating up her mewls as her trembling hands hold my arms for support. She moans prettily; my cock twitches against the zipper of my pants as I push my leg between her trembling thighs.
I start off with small, chaste kisses, warming her up to the idea of being kissed as I would like to think that she’s never been kissed and that I’m the first one to touch her like this.
I nip on her bottom lip, tugging on her plump flesh to drag a throaty moan for me. My tongue pries her teeth open with less force than I anticipated as she willingly opens her mouth.
An explosion of sweetness makes me lose control. I devour her cries deeper as I curl my tongue with hers in a dance for dominance. I win as she melts in my hands; she whines when I rub along her jawline.
Her thick lashes flutter, hiding the brownness that I want to see. I let my tongue curl with hers one last time before pulling back. Her lips chase after me as I chuckle at her adorableness.
Her eyes blink open, and her swollen lips turn down into a pout.
“Consider yourself off the hook for breakfast,” I smirk.
Her dazed eyes and heavy breathing are fascinating to stare at; it’s almost as if she is begging for me to take her on the table and forget that anyone can walk in on us.
“Thank you?” she whispers, licking her red lips.
My eyes darken. I lean in for another taste when she squeaks, her hands pushing against my chest. I stop at her request as she fumbles with her words clumsily.
“W-wait, didn’t you just say— this isn’t appropriate!” She mutters frantically, eyeing the door.
“Do you not want to work off your debt?” I cock an eyebrow.
Her eyes darken, a storm simmering inside those dark clouds as she purses her lips.
“I’m not sleeping with you,” she said.
I’m offended that she would even say it. I’m hanging on by a thread to not ravish her body, but I’m a man with honor even if my business is on the shadier side. Using her debts against her would hurt her, and I never considered that option. I only want to spend time with her in a way of shaving off her debts.
I should have been upfront and clear to her.
“You don’t have to.” I stroke her cheek, pushing down on her plushness.
Offering her a solution out of this should do the trick, “I will clear your debt if you spend time with me.”
She tilts her head, her red hair falling to the side as stray hair from her braid falls out. Give a halo to her, and she would be the angel helping me redeem all the sins I have done in the past, particularly the ones that had the noisiest screams.
“Is that how it usually works?” She asks with skepticism in her voice.
No, it’s not how it works, not for me, and it has never worked with the offers thrown at me.
I’m willing to breach the code that I set for years. Get the money; everything else is disposable. It’s the foundation of my business, and many still believe they can talk their way out of it. It’s a sick sense of glee to watch hope fade away in a snap of a finger.
“Only for you.”
Having a young girl in my arms would raise questions, and when a man with my reputation holds on to a girl more than half his age, then it’s blackmail or some form of payment.
Rebecca takes a minute to consider the pros and cons of my offer. I let her little head debate while the host comes back with our food and another older woman balancing a tray of water.
They leave without a word, and she turns to me.
“I don’t know how to spend time with someone,” she says with a sheepish smile.
Whether she means in social situations between a man and a woman or in a private setting, she doesn’t need to worry about what she thinks I’ll do to her.
“It’s fine,” I kiss her again as she hums against my lips. “Any time spent with you is enough.”
Chapter Five
Rebecca
The breakfast date has been over two weeks ago, and many things have happened.
Derek calls me every morning to let me know that breakfast is at the door, and every time he is right because there would be a knock the moment he said that. I refuse to believe he can see into the future; no one can be that accurate in guessing.
He sounded too confident to be winging his words.
We would talk through breakfast. Moira always teases me about me being in love with a man more than twice my age, and she emphasizes on his physical strength. It’s a good indicator about his stamina in bed. She painted an image in my head that I unwillingly remember every time I see him.
Depending on my day, he could come to pick me up from my dorm and take me to places that I didn’t know existed. It’s an experience that steals my breath away because I never knew spending time with someone other than Moira could leave me giddy and full of happiness.
On the days that he couldn’t see me for work reasons, Derek calls multiple times to check up on me as if I would disappear when he doesn’t hear my voice. He gets extra growly when I don’t pick up his calls in three rings, and I don’t know how to tell him that a girl needs to do other things that are away from the phone, things that are completely innocent. I have finals to study for and phones are distractions so I put it on silent to concentrate. The first time I didn’t pick up his call, he was at my door and pounding for me to open one hour later.
Derek made it a rule to always keep my phone setting different than the default style. Everything else is silent on the Do Not Disturb mode while his call is the only one with a tone to come through.
Several times he would interrupt my studying, but after a while, I think he caught onto my studying times, and he calls around my breaks and when I’m done. He’s an intelligent man; I shouldn’t have been surprised when he noticed and picked up on a pattern.
I haven’t gotten a call from him during my examination time so I assume he got my class schedule somehow, probably from Moira. She has a tender spot for Derek, she would drool over his bulky forearms when he wears his sleeves up.
Moira isn’t the type of girl to be vindictive. She was disappointed that Derek wanted me, but she got over it because there are plenty of fishes in the sea. She admires Derek from a purely artistic standpoint as he is a specimen too godlike, and I have to agree with her. Derek never disappoints with his salt and pepper hair, icy grey eyes, and the type of aura that demands respect.
His maturity is an attractive appeal. He’s so intelligent that I feel like I can't keep an interesting conversation with him. He makes me feel as if I am his equal, and I like the respect he gives me, however, he also treats me gently too. So softly that he thinks he’s going to break me if he’s too rough, but I want his raw power to seep into my skin when he holds my thighs open.
My cheeks flush as I look up at him. His back is against the car and his muscular arms are crossed over his broad chest. I get a full view of the black shirt being taut against his body, hugging every curve and sharp indent.
A bead of sweat runs down my neck, trickling to my shirt as I convi
nce myself that it’s the Florida heat and definitely not the rugged, older man in front of me.
It is him; he’s doing things to my body.
“Hi,” I breathe, coming to a stop near him.
“Hello,” he whispers, bringing my chin up as he leans down to kiss me.
Another thing that has changed is the label of our relationship. I wasn’t sure at first when he took me on dates, I thought it was his way of making me work off my debts. Derek clarified after our third meeting at a dim dinner that the previous mandatory attendance breakfast and suspicious lunch were dates, and everything after those is still dates.
We went from being strangers to somewhat friends and ended as lovers.
I always dreamed of my first kiss being with a boy my age, clumsily laughing and trying again to get the kiss right, and snuggling under a nice bundle of blankets while we stare at each other's eyes. I dreamed of having my first date with a picnic basket or a pair of movie tickets. I dreamed of falling in love with a boy from college.
He had asked me not to wear anything formal. I wanted to dress up a little at the beginning but I decided against it if he said it himself. I was right when he showed up with a black cotton shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of boots. He dressed even more casually than I did. I had on a pretty shirt and a skirt to match it off with one of Moira’s massive collection of heels.
It’s the only pair that wouldn’t break my ankles. It takes skills and practice to walk in her six-inch heels. I tried once and I fell on my face; my forehead had a discolored bruise for a third eye. I didn’t know what to do to make it inconspicuous because putting a Band-Aid over it would draw more attention while leaving it open also gets eyes on me.
Moira had to cover it with makeup and color-correcting concealer.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, stroking my bottom lip with his thumb.
My tongue darts out to lick his finger just to see his grey eyes darken. I stand on my toes and kiss his lips on my own. He buries his hands into my hair, tugging on the red strands roughly as he groans deeply.
“We won't make it to dinner if you do this.” Derek hugs me to his chest.