by Kira Blakely
Sexual? I gulp.
The girl from last night—the one masturbating on the bed, thinking “cock” and “pussy”—she’s asleep again. She’ll probably hibernate until Stuart Goldman comes back around.
And that’s the moment that it dawns on me. Mystique Island is a sexy billionaire club. And I only know one billionaire: Stuart Goldman.
My eyes go to the invitation and then back to the delivery girl. It says that masks must be worn at all times. It seems suspicious, even dangerous. I can’t.
"I think I'm going to have to refuse," I say, trying to pass her the invitation back. "Thank you, though."
The delivery girl ignores the envelope hanging in the air between us. She scoffs and shakes her head a little, as if surprised. "No one says that," she says, mostly to herself. "Let me explain about the common experience for a guest on the island. Maybe that will relax you. Do you already have holiday plans?"
"No," I admit.
"Perfect." She grins. "When I first ventured to Mystique Island, over ten years ago now, I was nervous. A friend of mine invited me, and we went to a Halloween party. Everyone there was masked... and everywhere you looked, as far as the eye could see, were beautiful people in immense pleasure. It was the most amazing experience of my life. Almost spiritual."
There’s no way she’s going to sell me on masked group sex. "I'm already spiritual without all the sex," I explain to her. She looks young to have been at a sex party ten years ago but maybe sex parties keep you young. Either way, it’s not for me.
I try to pass the envelope back again but she still won't take it.
"Look... I can see how this concept would be intimidating." She pauses and extends her hand to me. "I'm Cheryl, by the way."
I grasp her hand and give it a shake. "Rose," I say again. "Nice to meet you."
Cheryl nods and goes on, "This Christmas is going to be a new kind of party. Some of these invitations are to Wish List members."
I raise my eyebrow. “I was put on someone’s wish list?” I reiterate, to make sure I’m hearing her correctly. Because this is insane.
"Yes, Stuart Goldman," she answers naturally, as if this moment doesn’t shatter my entire reality. Stuart Goldman, you know, that ripped billionaire with the slate gray eyes and the warm baritone voice. He requested that I join him on a sexy island. Cheryl beams and adds, "You’re the only item on his list, Rose."
"Still no," I say, mouth souring at the thought of being an item on a list, even if it’s a special list with only one item on it. Still no! "I don't want to show up and be one of five or six chicks he ends up banging over the weekend. No way.”
Cheryl shakes her head and purses her lips gleefully. "Wish Lists are mutually binding," she informs me. "You won't be sharing him with anyone unless you want to. He only requested you, and he swore that he would abide by it."
Blush springs into my cheeks and now I have to reconsider everything I know. Stuart is a member of some sexy island club... and he had the option to pick any women he could bring. And he requested me. Only me.
We only see each other once a year!
That unwelcome tingling starts between my legs again, and I wish he was here to rub my nub with his thick, rough fingers. I'm tired of getting myself off, and I'm pretty sure he'd be better at it than I am.
My fingers wrap around my crucifix. Maybe it's time. I am almost twenty-two... and I want to lose it. And I want Stuart. I’m starting to think I’m never going to want another man more than I want Stuart.
Maybe this is perfect. And I don't know if I'll ever get another opportunity, if I refuse this one.
"You said you attended a party on the island,” I say to Cheryl. Maybe she can calm my nerves. “Tell me about your experience.”
"No regrets," she purrs. "I was a lot like you when I first went. I was timid. I was uncertain. Very young. But I met my husband there." She flashes me her ring and winks. "We go every year on our anniversary now, and I've made good friends with the owner. He's a wonderful man. But... Rose... I think you should ask yourself about Stuart Goldman, not about me and my experience. A Wish List guest isn't going to be thrust into an anonymous, group scenario like everyone else. A Wish List guest is delivered to the man who requested her. She belongs to him, as a gift from the island, all weekend. He's the only one who will be waiting for you... and dreaming of you."
I think of Stuart. I think of his hands ripping open my wrapping, undoing my ribbon, and then running over my bare flesh. Taking me.
I don’t think I can walk away from the opportunity to let him take my virginity.
God, forgive me. Shit. I want to do this.
I purse my lips together and bring the invitation to my chest, holding it there like a schoolbook. I don't want Cheryl to take it away anymore.
"All right," I say. What am I getting myself into? "I'll come."
Chapter Three
Stuart
I'm not even sure if Rose is going to be here—it's all part of that new Christmas surprise Leo will offer his billionaires at this time of year—but my whole body tingles with anticipation anyway.
I don't know why I think that a woman as delicate and respectable as Rose would be here... and yet, I believe it. I can almost feel her, waiting for me on the island. I know she'll be under my tree.
One of the valets guides me to my suite. It's dark outside by the time I arrive on the island. As we stroll the sandy path toward the villa I always request, I absorb the pleasurable scenes around me. Everyone wears masks, as usual, and many of the outfits are identical. There's one woman being double-teamed by a couple of my business associates, and we wave to one another in passing, though all they say is, “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” There's another being hungrily devoured between her legs, a man’s mask ridden up onto her mons by his impassioned dining.
I wonder where Leo is. Probably off in the shadows, watching everything like a good host. He's always making sure that these women are taken care of, and that the men enjoy themselves.
"Here you are, sir," the valet says, bowing low as we approach a wooden walkway. Beyond us lies a spacious villa, fully decked out in Christmas lights, and my heart warms at the sight. This may be a sex island but it's still a genuine display of holiday cheer. It's been a long time since I celebrated Christmas through and through: the tree, and the precious gift nestled beneath it. I hope the stockings by the fireplace belong to Rose.
"Thank you, sir." I bow slightly to the valet and he's excused. I turn and cross the wooden walkway, wondering if she'll be in there. She is, after all, a devout Christian, and something about her screams of virginity. She was probably horrified by that invitation.
I haven’t been a good boy this year, anyway.
The door opens, and I scan the warm cherry wood floor for any hint of her presence here but there's nothing and my heart sinks. Damn.
My eyes tilt up to the coatrack next to the foyer exit, and I see a tell-tale blouse and skirt hanging. Her clothes?
I tread down a corridor and in the den is a massive, sparkling evergreen.
Rose isn't sitting beneath it... but she is sitting beside it.
My jaw drops, and I struggle to process this image. It’s like the fucking Ark of the Covenant. It’s so beautiful, I think I might melt.
She wears a green ribbon blindfold and doesn't seem to be aware that I've entered the room. Her body is wrapped in shiny red and green ribbon, looping over her breasts and hiding her nipples from me. The ribbon loops and crisscrosses on her torso, tied again into a dramatic bow right in her lap... on top of her pussy, knowing Leo and how much he appreciates aesthetics.
Rose's skin glows with oil, and I know that she has been prepared for me by the staff.
She let them strip her down and lube her body, then wrap her in ribbon and blindfold her. She let them do that. My dick is about to rip the seam on these trousers, that’s so hot. She is here only for me. She was prepared for me. And she comes like a willing sacrifice.
And I'm finally
seeing her without the big coat and the modest dress and the tights. All she's wearing tonight is ribbon...
I could never imagine that Rose, my Rose, would ever be so free. Is this all for me? Is this truly happening?
I might be an entrepreneur considered a genius by his peers but this moment—this naked girl wrapped in ribbon—might be my crowning achievement.
I swallow and cross the threshold of the den.
I've had women before. Probably hundreds. But... none of them have ever meant as much as Rose means. She's the first woman who has ever truly been out of my league, no matter how rich I am, no matter how handsome they might say I am. That's how I feel. I might be a ten... but she's a ten stack.
Her hair is down and wild, her breasts so perky and ready for my mouth beneath that glossy red band of ribbon. Nestled beneath her ribbon is an adorable plume of pubic hair. I want to unlace that ribbon. I need to unlace that ribbon.
I haven't felt this way since I was a child.
Mystique Island really has recaptured the spirit of Christmas for me with this Wish List idea.
I can't believe she came. I can't believe she came.
And now, she's going to come. She's going to come her brains out.
I step forward slowly, filled with something like reverence. I asked for her, and in spite of being a billionaire for years now, I never expected I would get her. She's not the kind of woman you can just buy.
I swallow, and my hardness redoubles the closer I get. Her scent slides into my nose, tickling, encouraging me onward. Deeper against her. My length is as dangerous as a beam of steel as my eyes trail over her body. She's painful to gaze upon. I need release.
Without speaking, I crouch and scoop her into my arms. She yelps but doesn’t resist. My biceps bunch with power but she's as light as air in my embrace. I settle her down onto the low coffee table in the den and she stiffens.
"Stuart?" she breathes. “It’s Stuart, isn’t it?”
"You know it's me," I tell her. "Merry Christmas, Rose."
“I’m a virgin," she blurts, and I can’t stop the smile from forming on my face.
“Shh,” I say. “That’s perfect.”
I grasp the tip of her ribbon—the one sitting so pretty on her sprig of golden pubic hair—and pull, unwinding the bow until it falls away and I'm left peering into that soft, curly bush.
I want to bury my face in her. My pants are wet with pre-cum. My cock has more blood in it than my brain or my heart right now, and I lower my face down, down, down, pulling in a deep breath of her pussy, like she’s a fine fucking wine.
Rose gasps and shifts toward me, then away, probably startled by the way I almost buried myself against her bush. It's so beautiful, I can't resist. How does it smell like fucking vanilla?
I firmly pry her knees apart, and now she's sitting with them open, her hips resting on her heels. It's a strong stance, unlike the way women usually take a good tonguing, and I think it'll give her some more control and make her feel comfortable. Gives me one hell of a view, too. Lots of… access.
First, though, I just stare. I enjoy the view. I don’t want to rush this.
Rose’s thighs are spread for me at a 130-degree angle, highlighting that hot pink gash between her legs, fucking dewy in the Christmas lights. God, I want her. I want her like I've never wanted anything before.
"Oh, Rose," I murmur to her, pressing myself flat to the coffee table so that my face is almost pressed into that pussy. The heat wafts off of her and my hand snakes into my pants and squeezes my cock to give him some tiny sense of relief. Because I want to wait, as hard as that is going to be. I want her sweet juices coursing down my chin before my zipper comes down.
Because she's the gift. She's worth it.
"Are you ready, Rose?" I whisper, my warm breath tickling against her swollen lips and her perky little clit. I know she's ready. She’s ready, and when she feels my breath on her skin, her hips rock forward slightly. She wants me. Her body can't hide it.
"I'm ready." Her voice is almost choked, and she rocks forward again, urging me to taste her.
She must be so tired of waiting. She's been ready for a man for so long but she had to wait for the right one. For me.
I can wait, too. For the perfect second. The perfect flick of my tongue.
I extend my tongue and give one quick flick up her pink strip, hitting that rigid clit and then retract it into my mouth. I clamp my jaw shut and tamp down a moan, eyes rolling at the sweetness of her taste. I could eat her all night for no reason at all.
"Let's start," I rasp and flick her cunt again. “Here we go.”
Chapter Four
Rose
I can't see anything but the sensation of his breath on my pussy is enough to drive me wild and set my skin on fire. Then I feel this sharp, soft wetness skim over me, even hitting that little button where all the magic happens, and my hips jerk responsively. I gasp. That was it. He's going to make me come. He’ll be the first man to make me come.
He must be using his tongue down there. I can't think of anything else that would be so wet... except for me, of course.
I feel it again. That hard yet soft flick, all the way up my slit and teasing lightly on my clit. I hump forward, and he draws back again.
"Be patient," Stuart rasps, and I steady myself. I can be patient. "Go slow," he breathes against my pussy. "Don't be nervous. Don't be scared. Just... go... slow." That sharp point on the tip of his tongue travels up my trim again but this time, it goes hard and slow, connecting with every nerve ending I've got. When he reaches my clit, it isn't just a flick this time. This time, he wraps his luscious lips around my nub and gives it a slow, soulful suck.
My mouth falls open, and my neck falls back. My thighs spread wider, encouraging more, and I hump against his mouth, silently pleading for him to take me all the way, all the way right now, even though he just said that we should go slow. I don't want to go slow anymore. I want to come all over his perfect face.
He leaves my pussy again and then returns, tongue slithering up between my pussy lips and then suckling my button. This time, though, I can't bear to let him break away and leave me in the open air again. My fingers drive through his thick hair and press his mouth between my legs, trying to force him to stay put, and I grind softly on him.
Stuart only allows this for one sheer second. He doesn't stop eating me out but he does reach back around his head and grab my wrists, yanking them free from him and pulling them behind my back. Now my body is even more exposed and defenseless.
"If you can't behave yourself," Stuart commands me, "then I'm going to have to make sure that you do."
With that, he grasps the loose ribbon still shrugged over my body and unravels it completely.
I'm totally nude and the ribbon gets looped around my kneecaps, then bound to my wrists behind my back. I can't move my hands or my thighs. My thighs are trapped in a wide spread, and I can't shield my body with my arms in any way. My tits are out there, waiting for his mouth, and so is my pussy. Completely exposed.
Stuart latches his mouth over my clit and tongues me, just the way I wanted him to before. I hump against his mouth, eyes and head rolling around as he takes me.
With so much attention on my clit, I come in a deluge almost instantly, probably soaking his face with my juices. I want to be sorry for any mess I just created but I'm not. I'm not sorry at all.
"Oh, this is perfect," he says, coming away from my pussy to talk. "I'm going to lay you on your stomach now."
I want to be scared of final penetration but my entire body is too hot and loose from that hard orgasm I just had. When he gently settles me onto my stomach, breasts pressed hard to the cool wood and thighs still spread, still tied to my wrists with that ribbon, it only feels... right.
Stuart's rough fingers rove my ass adoringly. "Beautiful," he says. His fingertips drift down over the fleshy cusp of my ass and find my waiting slit and juicy hole. He slides in with one and gives it a tender test pump. I
whimper, and when his finger comes back, it brings another finger with it. "I thought you might be too tight or too dry and I didn't want to hurt you," he says, exhaling hard, like he's about to be dizzy, "but you're very wet." I hear him suck on his own finger, and then I feel something new... something I've never felt before.
It's hard as a rock, yet soft and smooth. Skin. And it's as hot and thick.
Oh, my god. It's his cock.
I feel the detail on his mushroom tip as it slowly nudges past my drooling lips. "There we go," he says. My hole quivers and stretches around his girth and it pops through. The twinge of my cherry being lost forever rocks me but I’m relieved. I wanted this. I wanted exactly this for so long, and I wouldn't let myself see it.
His cock slides further in, going slowly, allowing me to acclimate to him inch by inch.
It seems like we do this forever but it probably only takes about forty-five seconds until his full length is inside me, his hips flush against my ass, the base of his cock meeting my pussy lips.
He drags himself almost fully out of me—only the tip remains—and then shoves himself back inside, one fluid motion this time. I shriek, and my body stiffens with surprise. I want to say that it hurt and that was why I screamed but my scream is truly one of shock. His dick inside me feels so good, even when it's plunging swiftly into me. I see flashes of light for a second, sure, and I get a little dizzy but not in a bad way.
His next thrust is just as swift and deep, and my muddled brain realizes that this is sex. He thrusts into me the way he's supposed to... The beginning was for my benefit. To help with the pain. But now that we're past that, he's fucking me hard.
He lunges deep into me again, until his abs are flat on my ass, and again, and again, and I cry out as we reach a rhythm. My ass jumps up and down and his hands pin on my hips, holding me in place.