White (6 page)

With her, everything was different. I was different, and she was the one I’d been waiting for. I felt the need increase in the depths of my cock. I wanted to fuck her until she couldn't remember anything but my name. I wanted my cum all over her, I wanted her to know that she was my queen and I owned her. Biding my days until the time was right, watching with astounding interest until she was ready for me. Until she was mine.

“Sure,” I finally answered, feeling more than a little defeated. Just when I thought she’d been opening up, she was too tired. I’d pushed her too far and expected too much. I’d bring her back to her room and then head back down to my office and leave her alone, give her time to settle in, even if that took a few weeks. I would leave her be until she came to me and was comfortable to talk. “It’s late. I have an early morning, and I’m sure you need some sleep.” I spun and left my office, hoping she was trailing after me. She did follow me, up the stairway and through the hall to her bedroom. We stepped into the dim space, lit only by the bright moonlight filtering in one window.
 

I flicked on a soft lamp, then headed for the spacious walk-in closet off the bathroom. I opened a drawer and found an array of panties and bras laid out, all in the perfect size, all in variations of my favorite colors, white, red and black. Lace, satin, and cotton, undergarments for every occasion.
 

“Socks and shoes here,” I muttered, thinking I needed to get through this mini tour. Just the thought of her in those skimpy things made me nearly mad with lust. “Dresses hang here, a few pairs of pants, but I prefer dresses. I want you to look feminine when we go out,” I finished, turning to find her shockingly close to me. Her eyes were soft and open, the tiniest of smiles on her face.
 

“A man that knows what he wants. I like that.” Her eyebrow arched as her fingers trailed across the lace and satin cup of one bra. “So what do you prefer I wear to bed?” Her voice lowered an octave.
 

My heart hammered at her question, and I shifted on my feet. My collar suddenly feeling ridiculously tight, I tugged at it and tried to restrain myself from throwing her up against the wall of the closet and fucking her senseless.
 

“Whatever is most comfortable for you.” I tried to hide my reaction to her.
 

She sucked a lip between her teeth, and her eyes glanced around the room. “But I don’t have the kind of figure the girls in magazines do.”
 

My heart ached for her. Didn’t she know that she was the measure of all female beauty? “Allie, you are the most beautiful woman in the world. No woman on earth is as ravishing as you are. I look at you and I feel urges that I didn’t know I could feel. I want you like I have never wanted another. Those women you see in magazines don't hold a candle to your spark.”

I swallowed the ball of desire cutting off oxygen to my brain as my hands clenched at my sides. She was so fucking beautiful. She’d been standoffish all day, and now, late at night, up here in this tiny confined space, she was ruining me. I was telling her how much I wanted her, just how much she meant to me.

“What are you doing to me?” I whispered, my fists digging into the shiny curls of her soft hair, threading the strands and tugging as my lips finally attached to hers. I plunged my tongue between her pouty lips and thrust and devoured rhythmically, one palm running across her hot skin, sliding down one strap of that glittery fucking dress I’d been imagining peeling off her all night.
 

And the best part, she kissed me back. Her hands crawled up my biceps and clutched at my shoulders, one hand running across the nape of my neck and tugging on the short strands as her lips pressed against mine. Her tongue swept out and languidly tangled with mine, her soft lips kneading and caressing as I finally tasted her, finally had her.
 

“Asher,” she sighed as I pushed her against the small dresser her delicate undergarments had been placed so neatly in. I lifted her by the hips, setting her on the glossy wood, and felt her legs wrap around my waist, ankles locking me into place between her thighs. Sweet Jesus.
 

My hands fisted at her creamy legs and yanked her tighter around my body until I felt the press of my cock against the delicate flesh between her legs. One palm went up her thigh of its own accord and shoved at the flimsy fabric of her dress. I clutched it in my palms and tore at the offending garment, pulling it higher up her waist so I fit between her legs at a more favorable angle.
 

Before I knew what was happening, her fingers were clutching at the rippled muscles of my back while her head tossed feverishly against the wall. With her delicate throat open to me, I attacked her skin with gentle nips of my teeth and soft caresses of my tongue. I pressed my cock between her legs and worked in small rhythmic circles while my pants grew more strained. Her eyelids fell closed. I watched riveted as one slow moan fell from her full lips and she bit down hard, stifling another groan as her muscles went rigid around me. My heart thundered with longing and joy. Her fingers tightened at my biceps and pulled at my hair as she rode my dick through the thick fabric of my dress pants.
 

Jesus Christ, she was a fucking goddess like this.
 

Her body heaved, her muscles finally loosened, her eyes opened before her gaze finally landed on mine. I stood there frozen, still incredibly hard and even more turned on than I’d been just minutes before, until I realized this was probably her first orgasm, at least at the hands of a man.
 

“I-I…” She paused, stumbling to find words, a red wave of embarrassment coloring her cheeks.
 

“You're beautiful, Allie.” I pressed a hand at her jawline, my own libido suddenly taking a back seat to the siren song I’d just witnessed. “Was that your first orgasm?” I said, only wanting open honesty with her. I had to be prepared, had to know everything about her before I took her for my own.
 

Her eyes darted away, before she bit her lip and nodded slowly. Tears of shame soon pooled in her eyes, and she pushed my body away, hopping off the dresser and righting her torn dress.
 

“Don’t do that, don’t shut down on me.” I snagged her wrist and paused her nervous movements. “Don’t be ashamed of a single fucking thing with me. I want all of you. The beautiful parts, the messy parts, the sexy-as-hell parts, the emotional parts, I want it all. It may take me two years to prove it to you, but I want everything you have to offer. And I expect the same from you,” I ended, finally feeling like I’d gotten through to her when she peered up at me with wide eyes. “Understand me?” I clasped her chin between my thumb and finger. She nodded silently. “Say it,” I instructed, knowing I needed this reassurance from her more than anything else.

She nodded again, her eyes riveted on mine for the first time all night. She’d been dying to look away at every interaction before now, and yet at this very moment it seemed she couldn’t bring herself to, no matter how hard she tried. I was getting to her. “Yes, Asher,” she said quietly and clearly, before her eyes dropped down to my lips, still parted and panting from the unsatisfied sexual tension rocketing between us.
 

“That’s a girl.” I smiled, placing another kiss on the tip of her nose before adding another more meaningful one at the bow of her lips. “Now get ready for bed. Peggy will mend this in the morning,” I touched her bare thigh peeking through the golden disaster of a dress. “If it can be.” My lips lifted in a cocky grin as I internally beat my chest for her.
 

I wanted her. She knew it now, and I knew goddamn well she wanted me. Gone was the infuriating game of cat and mouse. Now I only had to make her mine. I only had to convince her why she should give me her heart on top of everything else.

nine

Eve

With my hands quaking, I watched Asher Strong walk out of the closet, leaving me turned on and shaken all at the same time. I heard the soft
snick
of the bedroom door closing and knew I was alone. I collapsed in a weakened heap on the floor and let out a soft sob. What the hell was I doing here? Who was this man?
 

Tears poured down my cheeks in streams as I clutched at the fabric of the cheap dress my foster mother had made me wear just this morning. I didn’t want it mended, I wanted it burned. I choked on the lump in my throat as my thoughts reeled, feeling like I’d somehow been plucked from a world of dark misfortune and plopped into a fairy tale with a handsome Prince Charming with an enormous house that may as well be a modern-day castle. I wasn’t this girl. I didn’t fit in here. Fairy tales weren’t real and there was no such thing as a handsome prince coming to save me. Why did he even want me? Why had he paid so much for my time? I was a virgin. Didn’t men like him want an experienced woman who knew how to please them? When it came time to have sex with Asher Strong for the very first time under contract, when I would lose my virginity, how would that make me feel?
 

Just having an orgasm at his deft hands and the enormous, rigid, steel length between his legs made me nearly lose my stomach. I liked him. Of course I liked him. What wasn’t to like? He was handsome, kind, thoughtful, incredibly intense with the sexiest smile.
 

But what did I have to offer? An awkward girl in too-tall heels who was too young to drink and didn’t know the first thing about pleasing a man. I had a curvier form than the girls I’d seen on the magazine covers. I had nothing to give Asher, and here I was, set up to play the ruse of his friend, his girlfriend, his whore… I was surprised to find my heart aching with the uncertainty.

A slow headache began building at the base of my skull. I wiped at the tears tickling my cheeks, then pushed myself from the floor, pulling the dress over my shoulders and stopping to stand in front of the closet mirror. Here stood Eve White, the girl who was orphaned before she hit puberty, the girl who had never even held a boy’s hand as they walked through a park. Until tonight with Asher, I had never even been kissed. You would think with the depraved things Judy had me do that I would have some actual experience, but I didn’t when it came to men. I was completely naive. Until Asher, I’d hated them. Other than the boys, I found men to be repugnant. They weren’t as kind or as attractive as Asher.
 

I padded to the bathroom Asher had gestured to earlier. My feet connected with cool tile as I flipped on the lights and took in my surroundings. A huge bathroom, much larger than any I’d ever seen and outfitted in Spanish tile and modern glass fittings, nearly took my breath away. A giant soaking tub complete with jets looked out over a corner window and the expansive property beyond. A double vanity sink and fluffy white towels waited, enticing me toward the hot spray of the built-in shower.
 

I twisted the knob, fiddling with a few more levers to turn on the additional shower heads, then turned the heat as high as I could, letting the steaming water pour down over me. Washing away the past, washing away the betrayal and the sins, washing away the memories, I took slow, measured breaths and promised to hold my head high. I'd known what I was getting into with this, and landing at a country mansion wasn’t half bad, so much better than I’d secretly feared.
 

And remember the boys. They’re waiting for you.
 

I smiled at the thought of them, wondering what they were doing right now. Mason and Grant were probably just getting home. They’d usually sold off most of their stash by around midnight. I imagined them propped in front of the TV, playing games and laughing like the normal teenage boys they were. If they were lucky, Judy would have saved them leftovers. Otherwise, it could be cold hot dogs or microwaved nachos. And Julian… My sweet Julian wouldn’t be home for hours yet, regularly returning at 3 or 4 a.m. He took the brunt of the work. He insisted the boys be home earlier so they could focus on school in the morning, and Julian took it upon himself to make up the quota in their absence.
 

I leaned against the cool tile wall, welcoming the water beating down on my tired shoulders. My boys were the ones I would survive for, and survive I would. I would do it so damn well that Asher Strong would give me cash after two years and I could walk away with more money than I knew what to do with. More than enough to buy us a huge house where we could each have our own room, and maybe I could even buy us each a car or send the boys to college. That thought brightened my mood instantly.
 

I could send them to college. That would be worth every single day of torture I may endure. Another wide smile cracked my lips then. Asher seemed different. Asher, I wanted to be close to. I wanted to kiss him and be touched by him. I was coming to think I would endure the next twenty-four months with a smile on my face.

Later that night, after slipping on one of the satiny-soft nighties that were hanging in the closet, I’d settled into bed expecting to be sleeping soundly as soon as my head hit the pillow. I’d cuddled in, wrapping myself in expensive Egyptian cotton sheets, fluffed the down pillows, and tossed off the too-heavy duvet. The slow pounding headache that had started earlier was more present than ever.
 

I hadn’t wanted to eat that sandwich in front of Asher. I’d been too nervous to eat for one, and it’d been so messy, but now I was regretting it. I frowned, wondering if I was allowed to go downstairs and dig through the kitchen for a snack, until I remembered that Asher had reassured me that I had free rein.
You’re welcome anywhere.

I groaned and crawled out of bed, tiptoeing across the room and opening the door as quietly as I could before peering both ways. Silence. Again. Damn, no wonder Asher wanted someone to stay with him. Who wouldn’t be lonely in this big empty castle?

I glanced across the hallway to Asher’s door, the imposing French doors hiding the man inside. Maybe he was already asleep. I continued down the hallway on light footsteps, taking the stairs quietly until I rounded the corner of the kitchen and flipped on the light. I rummaged through the fridge and found a yogurt and apple juice, pouring myself a cup of one and grabbing a spoon for the other. With snack in hand and the master of the house sleeping peacefully upstairs, I took it upon myself to take the tour he’d skipped. I wandered the large living area, a double-sided fireplace splitting that and the kitchen, with double-story windows overlooking the rolling apple orchards and the navy of the lake.