"I can't wait," he says, "to have you come apart in my arms, Cara."
I don't have time to blush as he pushes my soaked panties aside, his fingers outlining the shape of my pussy lips. He presses down on my clit, making me buck my hips wildly, desperate for the release only he can give me.
He starts working my pussy without ever slipping a finger inside. He's never made it clear he knows I'm a virgin, but I think he knows. He must... It's like he's saving my pussy for later, the cherry on top of this perfect day. I don't know how he can pace himself. All I can think about is the cock in his pants, huge and throbbing and so hard it makes me want to climb on top of him and press him inside me.
I mewl, and my conscience slowly gets pulled away from me as I succumb to what Mason's doing, making me cream his fingers so loudly I blush in embarrassment.
"You're such a dirty little girl," he coos. "So fucking wet for me. Can you hear yourself, Cara?"
I nod and he keeps going, rendering me speechless. He's working my clit, his mouth claiming mine again and biting into the soft flesh of my bottom lip. I can feel myself tensing, the orgasm coming with impending urgency.
"Moan into my mouth, baby," he tells me softly. "No one's gonna hear."
I do as he says, soft, long moans between his lips, needy and pathetic little sounds that only make him go faster. He strums my clit until I crash over the edge, spiraling and falling as I scream my release into Mason's mouth.
He doesn't stop and I come again, until I'm a helpless heap in his arms, panting and gasping for air. He's chuckling as he stands me up, putting my panties back into place and reaching up with his fingers.
"Suck me off, Cara," he tells me, and gently puts two fingers inside my mouth. I lick at them tentatively, keeping my eyes on Mason.
He leads me back to the boat with a hand on my back, making sure I'm okay. I realize I've never felt safer.
Eleven
Mason
The trip to Venice was a success. Cara looks content and happy as we drive back to the house, her bare feet tucked under her ass and her hand resting in mine. It's odd, this weird intimacy that's developed between us. We haven't really spoken about what we mean to one another. I wonder if she knows I plan on claiming her completely.
She squeezes my hand every time she sees something exciting through the tinted windows, pointing out this sight and that plant as we drive back home. The partition is up, separating us completely from Filippe. I'm enjoying my time alone with her.
Taking Cara to Venice was beneficial in more ways than one. I discovered she really does enjoy art. The way she listened to me speak about the architecture actually made me hard, and I want to learn more about her. She's a complex little thing, but I can't fucking wait to peel off all her layers and reveal her core.
We arrive at the house in the late evening hours, and are greeted by Luca and a group of his rowdy friends. There are two girls among them, scantily clad in scraps of fabric, wearing heavy makeup and perfume. Cara cowers behind me as we come close to them, and I marvel at her repulsion towards Luca.
"I'm leaving, old man," Luca slaps me on the back with a big grin.
"No more family time?" I mock him, raising my eyebrows. "Well, best of luck. I'm sure I'll hear from you when you need more money."
Luca's eyes spark with anger, then zero in on Cara behind me. I reach for her and she grabs my arm needily. Is she afraid of him? As far as I know, nothing's happened between Luca and Cara, but the way she reacts to his presence is certainly worrisome.
"I'll miss you, little thing," he tells her. "Can't say deflowering Mason's little pet wouldn't be fucking fun."
My hands tighten into fists as I say, "Get out."
"Gladly."
Luca glares at me for a second before gathering his group and leaving towards two vans parked outside the house. On his way out, he bumps his shoulder into me, hard, and I have to physically hold back before I slam him into the ground.
Once we're alone, I lead Cara into the house. She's a little shaky, but it seems like there's some relief there too, after finally getting rid of Luca. Filippe serves us lasagna in the dining room, and we tuck into our meal hungrily, chatting about the things we saw during the day. It's mostly Cara talking, excitedly trying to remember every little fact I told her.
When we're done eating, she seems hesitant to return to her room, but I want her to go so I can have some time alone with my thoughts. I walk her to her room, and she hesitates before walking inside.
"You're not gonna disappear?" she asks me, and I give her an odd look, making her blush. "I just... I want to make sure you'll be here when I wake up tomorrow."
"Of course I will be, Cara," I tell her softly, my hand touching the small of her back.
She's really insecure for such a fucking brat. I lead her into her room, and just as I'm about to leave, she pulls me in for a kiss. She's desperate, trying to come off as confident but only convincing me she's too young for me, really.
I pull away and kiss her hair instead. She's sulking already, pissed that I won't succumb to her feminine charms. I need to clear my fucking head, so I walk out of there, Cara's gaze glued to my back as I get out of her bedroom.
I intend on spending the rest of the evening working, but instead, I find myself in the room next to Cara's, watching her through the mirror like some fucking creep. She can't sleep either, pacing the length of the room and pulling at her pretty hair. I know she wants to come out and see me, but I made her promise she'd get some rest. But I know how she feels - the pull we feel toward each other is fucking electric, and I can't resist much longer.
I watch her pull something out of her suitcase. It soon becomes obvious it's a lingerie set, a black sheer thing that makes my mind go wild. I push my chair away from the desk I'm sitting at and force myself to leave.
This wasn't supposed to be this hard. Yes, I'd wanted Cara since the first time I saw her. Yes, I wanted to claim every inch of her... But she was having an effect on me, a dangerous one I'd thought no other woman would ever have.
I leave the room and head for my studio. I know it's time for the third painting.
I get out my paints and prepare a clean canvas. I don't even give a shit if my expensive jeans get ruined, but it's hot and stuffy in the studio, so I strip off my shirt and open the rooftop window. I light a few candles even though I know it'll strain my eyes not to use a light instead. But I love working this way.
I get to work. I paint her in the lingerie set, the way I imagine she looks in it. I know she'll come and find me soon. If she feels the same way I do, she won't be able to stay away for long.
When I paint, I often forget about time. It's pitch black outside when I finally pull myself back and look at the canvas in front of me.
The outline of Cara's small body faces me, the lingerie still needing to be painted on. Her back's turned towards me in the painting, her body dangerously addictive.
Cara chooses that exact moment to come inside the studio, dressed in the lingerie set, no less. She's wearing fuck-me heels, tall and studded and black. I still tower over her.
Her eyes find mine in the candlelit room and I realize she's shaking.
"Come closer," I tell her softly.
She drops to her knees. She crawls to me without being told to do so. My dick swells painfully in the jeans I'm still wearing.
The way her ass moves when she crawls closer is intoxicating, and my eyes drink her in as she approaches me. She really is fucking stunning, a vision in her little outfit, her ass practically bare for my eyes only. She sits down on her knees in front of me, her trusting eyes on mine as I tip her chin back.
"Couldn't sleep?" I ask her softly, and she shakes her head no. "Me neither, cara mia."
Her eyes flicker with something that could be recognition. I wonder if she's figured it out by now.
"You should be in bed," I tell her firmly, meaning to send her back to her room. "Let's get you back to your room."
But she gra
bs my hand with both hands. Her little pink tongue parts her juicy lips and she licks the tips of my fingers tentatively, her eyes always on mine.
"I don't want to," she says softly, and I frown.
"You need to follow my rules here, or have you forgotten about that already?" I ask her pointedly. "Back to your room. Fucking. Now."
She gets up, angry and clumsy in her too-high heels, saying, "I know you want me to stay. Why are you fighting this?"
"Why?" I snarl at her, reaching for her with my bare arms. I push her against the wall, my hands wrapping around her roughly. "You're too fucking young. You're my business partner's daughter. You're..."
"In love with you," she finishes for me.
All the color drains from her face when she realizes what she's said. She fights to get away from me, her little hands going to my hand around her throat.
"What did you say?" I ask her roughly. "Stay fucking still, Cara."
I'm not trying to choke her. I'm just holding her in place. But if she struggles too much, she's going to get both of us in fucking trouble.
"Nothing," she mutters, a note of panic now present in her voice. "I didn't say anything. Let me go!"
"Never," I growl, pressing my body against hers.
Her curvy hips buck against mine, making me wonder how on earth her body can have such a strong response to mine. I've been nothing but cruel to her, save for today. I've punished, spanked and started to ruin her little body and yet... she can't fucking stay away.
"You wanted to put on a little show for me?" I say into the shell of her ear. "This outfit, Cara. You buy that here?"
She shakes her head no. Of course she didn't, today was the only time she's been out, and I was with her the whole time.
"So you brought it from home," I taunt her. "What for, Cara? Why did you bring this sexy lingerie to stay with daddy's business partner?"
She struggles in my strong arms, but I'm not letting go until she answers my question.
"I hate you," she finally spits out once she realizes the struggling is futile. "Let me leave. I don't want to be here anymore."
"Little liar," I tell her.
I reach between her legs with my free hand. The fucking sinful panties she's wearing are soaked through, her pussy throbbing almost visibly.
"Tell me why," I tell her again. "Why did you bring this stuff with you? Why did you come to Italy, cara mia?"
"A boy," she finally gets out, her cheeks blushing deeply. "There was a boy..."
"Who?" I ask her, my grip loosening.
She doesn't move though, admitting defeat as she sinks towards the floor. I wrap a hand around her waist before her ass hits the ground and lift her up. I'm going to get my fucking answers, and then I'm finally going to break her. Make her submit to me.
"I talked to him online," she says in a shaky voice, making my cock even harder. "I came here so I could see him. He's Italian."
"So he put this whole fucking idea in your head?" I ask her sweetly. "The trip to Italy, telling your dad you so desperately wanted to come here..."
She gives me a desperate look, saying, "I... It was before I met you. I didn't know... what you were like."
"So tell me right now, Cara," I keep taunting her, even though I know how this story ends. "If you'd have to pick between this boy and me, who would you pick? Right the fuck now."
I can see the wheels in her head turning as she thinks it over. I give her time, but not too much. My grip on her throat tightens in warning as I wait for her answer.
"You," she finally whispers. "I'd choose you."
"What about the guy?" I ask softly. "Didn't you like him?"
I think about all the messages, the texts we'd exchanged. I really fucking bared myself in some of them. I showed her a side of me a lot of people don't know. I have to know what she thought of him, the phantom Luca that made her come to Italy in the first place.
"I..." She swallows hard. "I was in love with him... Before I came here."
"Because you met me?" I ask her gently, and she nods.
"His name is Luca," she blurts out. "Like... like..."
"What's your middle name, Cara?" I interrupt her.
"What?" She gives me a confused look. "I... It's Annabelle. Why? Why are you asking me this?"
"Mine's Luca," I tell her darkly.
Her eyes widen. The shock registers. She's starting to realize the game I played on her. When she finally gets it, she sinks into my arms. I'm there to catch her.
Twelve
Mason
For a second, I'm sure she's going to pass out. But before Cara hits my arms, she picks herself up, and next thing I know, she's shoving me away, her palms resting on my chest, her eyes blazing with anger.
"It was you?" she asks me, seething with rage. "It was you all along?"
I nod, grinning at her. I don't think she'll take it too seriously, and her little outburst is adorable. Time to get it over with though, I have a few other things on my list of tasks for today.
"You prick," she hisses. "How long? How long have you been playing me?"
"Must be a year and a half now," I tell her simply. "I needed some time after your sixteenth to prepare. Wasn't sure what the best way to get you here was."
"You're sick!" Her tone is accusatory and disgusted, and it stings a little.
Perhaps it would sting more if her nipples hadn't tightened into hard little buds underneath the thin fabric of the bra she's wearing.
"Get over it, Cara," I tell her calmly. "You wanted me since the moment you walked into this house. You even wanted me before you knew who I fucking was."
"But..." She's trying to come up with something, anything - a reason to object and convince me I'm not right, but she's coming up empty. "You're such a jackass, Mason."
I chuckle at her poor attempt at an insult, caging her body with mine.
"I told you to call me Sir," I remind her with a smile on my face.
"Fuck you," she snarls.
And then the little slut spits at me.
I've got her in my arms, turning her around before she can even understand what's going on. She writhes against my embrace, but her perky little ass wiggling against my crotch is only making me more fucking intent on showing Cara her place.
"You're going to regret that," I promise her.
I rip off her panties with a single motion of my hand, and she gasps as I expose her pussy to the oppressing heat of the studio. Her bra follows next, and I rip it off her, leaving her chest naked and heaving. She presses her ass against my groin and I growl her name needily. Fuck, she's making me lose my focus.
I don't stop stripping her until she's only wearing her garter belt and suspender stockings. She looks so fucking stunning it could make my damn heart stop, and I'm having trouble keeping my hands off her.
"You like spitting, little girl?" I ask her roughly, and she stops struggling for a second.
I can feel her heartbeat, fast and crazy loud. She looks at me from the corner of her eyes.
"I didn't mean to," she says weakly, making me chuckle.
"You didn't mean to go off on me?" I ask her. "I think you did. But that's okay, sweetheart. That's why I love you. You make me punish you so good, baby."
I realize what I've said a second too late, just as Cara's body flattens against mine in anticipation. Knowing I have to distract her, I whip her around, my fingers wrapped tightly around her swan neck.
"Open your whore mouth," I tell her, and she parts her lips in a sweet little O, making me laugh. "Gonna have to be wider than that, sweetheart."
She blushes as I pull her down, undoing the zipper on my jeans with my free hand. I pull out my cock, hard and throbbing for her, my jeans falling to the floor. She gasps when I bare myself to her, and it only makes me twitch harder.
"Spit on it," I tell her roughly, and she gives me an uncertain look. "Make it wet and slippery, baby, come on."
She spits, a trickle of saliva dribbling from her mouth to my cock. I groan w
hen it hits the sensitive tip of my dick, but her pathetic attempt is barely enough to get my shaft wet.
"You did a better job before," I tell her sweetly. "Ran out of spit, baby?"
She whimpers and I force her to her knees. My cock's precariously close to her lips and she opens her mouth hungrily, like she's desperate for a fucking taste. This is going to be hard to resist, but I have to. I have to punish her for what she did.
I spit on my own cock, rubbing in the saliva over my whole length while she licks her lips hungrily. My thumb is resting firmly in the crook of her neck, massaging the sweet spot there and feeling the vibrations of her throat.
"Look up at me," I order her, and she complies right away.
Her eyes are big and needy, begging for more. I'm sure she already knows what's coming next.
"Please," she manages to get out.
"Please what?" I fucking love teasing her. I'm never going to get sick of it.
"I..." She blushes, cringing at the ideas running through her head. "I want to taste you."
"Not a fucking chance, sweetheart," I tell her with a grin. "Now open your mouth."
She does, and it's not enough.
"Wider."
She tries. She really does. Such a sweet little thing.
I force her lips open with my free hand and she moans needily as she complies, sticking her tongue out and opening up so wide I could fit two cocks inside her if I wanted to. Instead, I tip her head back gently, and I spit into her mouth.
She moans. It's incredible, the almost animalistic sound being ripped from her throat as she grinds her hips on her own legs, so needy she could get off from the friction alone.
"Beg," I tell her simply.
"For what?" she asks, her lashes fluttering open.
She's licking her lips. Needy. Desperate.
"Whatever you want right now." My thumb draws circles in the hollow of her throat.
"Sir," she says softly, her eyes never leaving mine. "I want... I want you to fuck me."
"Prove it," I demand.
His Muse: A Dark Alpha Bad Boy Romance Page 8