Falling for My Beautiful Ward Page 15

  And that’s when I stopped, coming to a grinding halt. Because what the fuck was wrong with me? Was I in love with my ward? It’d been just a fuck, a cherry pop, a way to release the tension, lose myself in the physical after too many years of non-stop work and meaningless sex.

  So what the hell had happened? Had I lost my mind entirely? My heart pounded, temp going up to five hundred degrees. Even a cold sweat broke out on my back, running in a wet rivulet down my spine. What the hell was wrong? And suddenly, realization overcame me. Because oh fuck, I was fucked. This wasn’t some one-time thing. This wasn’t just a weekend fling. I was in love with my ward, a complete goner … and there was no going back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Daisy

  Everything that happened between us was so nasty that I could hardly believe it was me. We’d done a sixty-nine in the stacks and the way I’d sucked down Tristan’s semen was incredible. It’d just been so good, bubbly and hot, that I couldn’t wait to get more, licking desperately, vacuuming my cheeks for more.

  Because his sperm really is the best stuff on earth, sweet and salty at once, nutritious and creamy as it coursed into my stomach. And the problem is that I’ll never be able to get enough, tasting the man has awoken a hunger in me, a desperation for the alpha male. But Tristan and I are here on an escapade, a weekend getaway while we enjoy each other’s bodies, reality coming to a standstill for a precious few days. So what was going to happen after this? I choked even thinking about it. Was he going to ignore me? Was I off to college, sayonara, thanks for your service?

  And the thought made my shoulders slump, a lump rising uncontrollably in my throat. It should have been no big deal. Four years of freedom and independence is an amazing opportunity, all on Tristan’s dime no less. But instead gloom and doom shadowed my mind, a sob choking in my chest. What the hell was wrong? Why oh why was this turning out to be so hard?

  So with angry swipes at my cheeks, I brushed away the tears. Stop it! I scolded myself. You’re being so stupid. This thing with your Tristan was never meant to be. In fact, you’re sick, he’s your guardian for crying out loud.

  And so I swallowed my tears, forcing a smile, bravely thrusting my chin up. Right, we were sort-of related, if only by law and not by blood.

  And yet when I turned to look at the big man in the church, bravely trying to hide my tears, it seemed Tristan could read my mind. The alpha’s eyes darkened, a stormy grey-blue rather than their usual pure azure, a muscle ticking in that strong jaw.

  But what could I say? What could he say? So I just smiled, taking his big palm in mine, ignoring the unspoken, our hopeless situation.

  “Let’s go Mr. Marks,” I said. “It’s time to get back.”

  And with that, we stepped back into the sunlight. It was like entering another world after the gloom of the chapel, the day was so bright, the glare so harsh that I had to squint, a headache coming on. And to top it off, Lance’s voice intruded, smarmy and annoying.

  “There you are, took long enough,” he cawed, smacking his gum.

  “Sorry about that,” I murmured, not looking at him. “Won’t happen again.”

  “Yeah, that was like fifteen minutes or something,” whined Lance, crossing his arms over his chest, bottom lip puffing out like a little boy as he pouted.

  Fifteen minutes? Was that all that had passed during inside the church, where we’d had our momentous realizations? But understanding can come quick sometimes. When it hits you, it really hits you, and I was breathless with the thought that I loved my guardian, that I’d fallen in love with him somehow, somewhere along the way.

  But what did the alpha male think? I shot Tristan a quick glance but he was as impossible to read as always, that straight nose and chiseled jaw set, the mouth so mobile, those lips that had touched me all over.

  Oh god. Oh god, oh god. How had two days done this to me, changed my outlook on life altogether, made me long for his magnetic presence next to me? Did he feel the same? I was dying to know.

  And he felt something, sexually at least. I could sense it in the air, the vibrations so strong between us that every hair on my body quivered, my skin hot to his presence. But the alpha male never loses his perspective and sense of humor, it’s his years of experience getting through every situation. We were viewing a twin bed in a dorm room and the big man’s eyebrows shot off his forehead, eyeing it with amusement.

  “Do people really sleep in these?” he drawled, voice languorous. “Seems hardly enough space for one person, let alone two.”

  Lance just snapped his gum again.

  “Yeah well you can get an extended twin if you want,” he grunted. “Just means that the bed is six and a half feet long but no changes to the width.”

  And Tristan shot me another look again. That was no use to us, we needed wider across, enough to fit his big body as well as mine. I shook my head back at him.

  “Well, we’ll have to see about that,” was all he said ominously. What did that mean? That he’d be moving a different bed into my dorm room, that he’d come to visit me? My heart raced, pulse in my throat. Maybe there was a future for us. Maybe we could work something out, find a way to see one another even after I left the mansion?

  With a huge lump in my throat, I swallowed thickly. Oh god, please let it be. Please. I’d give anything for our liaison to continue, I’d let him use me, come visit whenever he liked, save myself for him. I needed Tristan, more than air itself, yet I couldn’t say anything specifically, could only look at him with longing eyes.

  And it seemed that Tristan felt the urgency, the tense energy between us because when the tour was finally done, Tristan drove the Maserati like a madman back to Lance’s house.

  “You live here during the school year?” he asked as the teen boy hopped out.

  “Naw, during the year I’m at the Alpha O frat house,” Lance guffawed. “This is just for the time being, they’re doing some remodeling right now,” he added. “Daisy, it was a pleasure. Hope to see you here next year. Give me a call if you find yourself with some free time, I’d love to show you around again,” he leered, face cracking into a revolting smile.

  But I forced myself to return the smile sweetly and nod, my words cut off by the roar of the engine. We jetted off before he even slammed the door, leaving the poor boy coughing in exhaust, bathed in fumes.

  “Mr. Marks, what was that about?” I gasped. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

  “You two said enough good-byes,” he ground out, eyes never leaving he road, hands gripping the wheel. “That lunkhead is way below you Daisy, way below you.”

  And the laughter began bubbling up inside.

  “Mr. Marks are you serious?” I said softly. “Are you jealous of Lance?”

  But Tristan didn’t reply, expression still furious as he ripped through a turn on the road, pushing the Maserati to its max.

  “I’m not jealous at all,” he ground out. “I’m just telling the truth, which is that that frat boy is way below you. You could do a lot better, Daisy. You’re grade A and that sucker? He’s a fucking loser.”

  And my stomach fizzled, happiness bubbling up unexpectedly. Mr. Marks was definitely jealous. A warm feeling ran through my frame even as a smile crept onto my face. I reached for his hand, placing a small palm over his big fingers.

  “Tristan, you know that I love spending time with you, that I had such a good time this weekend. There’s no need to feel jealous of Lance,” I said softly, running my fingers up his wrist, stroking his big hand. “He’s just a boy.”

  My guardian’s body was still hard but some of the tension melted as he exhaled, shooting me a look from the corner of his eye.

  “I wasn’t jealous,” he protested, “I just want what’s best for you. It’s natural for someone in my position,” he added with a dark look.

  Oh, so how he wanted to play the guardian angle?

  “But Mr. Marks, was it best for me to take me in the library like that?” I simpered with a te
asing smile. “I mean, I realize you were inducting me into a longstanding student tradition, but really? During my first time on campus?”

  And the big man just swung to stare at me, eyes on fire once again.

  “Hell yeah, that was the best thing for you. No fucking way was I letting another man touch you, hold you, touch that beautiful cunt in the stacks. Only I get to introduce you to the Labyrinth.”

  I just giggled again.

  “Oh Mr. Marks, you’re so funny,” I breathed, dropping my hand to his thigh as he drove. “It’s you, it’s always only been you.”

  And despite the fact that we were racing down a roadway, he turned to stare at me with serious eyes.

  “Daisy, do you know what you’re saying?” he growled low in his throat.

  I smiled once again, genuine emotion flashing in my eyes, heart beating rapidly.

  “Of course I do, it’s always been you,” I whispered. “It’s always been you, Mr. Marks.”

  And as we pulled up to the hotel, Tristan bounded out of the car with great strides, almost jerking me from my seat. What the? Why was he being so rough? Had I said something? But once we were into the elevator, Tristan took my face between his two big hands, cradling my head, looking deep into his eyes. The mirrored paneling on the wall shadowed his movements, the flicker of the lights distracting, but nothing could tear me away from the beautiful blue depths, stormy, mysterious, filled with meaning, pent-up words at the tip of his tongue.

  “Daisy,” the alpha growled deep in his throat. “I can’t tell you what this weekend has meant for me. I wanted to show you a slice of my past, where I spent my formative years, somewhere that was special, and it’s turned into so much more.”

  “I know Tristan, I know,” I breathed, pressing my curvy form against his chest. “I know. This was supposed to be a college tour but it morphed, didn’t it?” I said, shyly looking up into his eyes. How could I be timid at a moment like this? He’d seen my everything, my breasts, my sweet slit, my ass, and yet here I was coloring, blushing like a bride.

  Tristan merely drew me to him tighter, wrapping those big arms tight.

  “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he groaned, pulling me into the room, kicking the door shut behind us. “For so fucking long.”

  “I know,” I breathed as we sat on the couch, the big man pulling me into his lap. “I’ve wanted you too,” I whispered against his lips.

  But instead of taking me immediately, those blue eyes flashed once more and he leaned back for a moment.

  “Daisy, do you understand what I’m saying?” he ground out harshly. “I’ve been waiting for you, watching for years now. And now that you’re here,” he said with a rough shake of his head, “it’s been so good. It’s so unbelievably fucking good, more than my wildest dreams, better than what I could possibly have hoped for.”

  I threw my arms around his neck, pressing my mouth to his then.

  “I know,” I breathed against his lips. “I know. Now kiss me.”

  And that was enough for the big man. With a low growl, he bent his head to mine, parting my lips, exploring my sweet mouth with his tongue, tasting me, savoring me, pouring his heart and soul into the kiss. And I was right there with him, my heart beating so fast I thought it might explode, imbuing the touch with all my pent-up feelings, my desire for him, my lust, my love, my respect for this big man who was so much more than just a lover. He was my world and I knew it now, knew it with a certainty down to my very bones.

  And I wanted to give him something special. Shifting slowly off of his lap, I stood for a moment.

  “Mr. Marks,” I said breathlessly. “I have something for you.”

  Tristan’s cock bulged against his trousers, the long, thick hardness visible in outline against the material, wrapping almost around his waist. Oh god, my mouth watered just looking at it, insides growing soft and damp, pussy moistening.

  “Just a sec,” I panted before dashing off into my bedroom.

  “Daisy, you better hurry,” he ground out, “because I can’t hold on for long.”

  “Don’t worry I’ll be right out,” I called, hastily digging through my luggage. And I found it. Right before I’d zipped up my suitcase, I’d added something at the last minute, a wish list item.

  Slowly, I stripped off my clothes, stepping into red heels and sensuously, with gentle strokes, worked a pair of red panties up my legs. It was a tiny sliver of nylon, held by strips of ribbon that tied at my hips. The panties were delicious, erotic, and oh so nasty because they were crotchless. Oh yeah, I’d bought the lingerie at a sexy store in town, the type of place that sold five hundred dollar bra and thong sets, items made from French lace, hand-sewn and embroidered. Crotchless panties weren’t the typical item found at L’Armoire, but I’d swept them into my bag without a second look, blushing as I paid.

  And packing them, a shiver had run down my spine. Maybe I’d just prance around my hotel room wearing the panties, enjoying the freedom, rocking out on my own. But now with an audience, oh god, my pussy began to drip.

  So slowly opening the door I tiptoed outside. Tristan was relaxed on the sofa but I saw that he’d pulled his dick out, that massive shaft leaking at the tip, hand lightly running up and down the stiff length, skimming the iron hardness.

  And when he saw me, that hard length jerked, visibly twitching in his fist.

  “Oh fuuuck baby girl,” he rasped as his eyes ate up my curvy form dressed only in the red heels and matching panties. The big hand paused momentarily on his shaft before reaching down to grab the base, encircling that girth with a tight fist. “Oh fuck, what do you do to me?” he groaned.

  “But Mr. Marks,” I giggled, “I haven’t even started yet.”

  And with that I wiggled my hips, breasts bouncing, and slowly ran my hands up my sides, emphasizing the hourglass shape. I’m curvy, I’ve got huge Double Ds set off by a tiny waist and wide, swinging hips, my silhouette an exaggerated S. Sensuously, I threw my head back and moaned, eyes closed.

  “Tristan,” I rolled his name between my lips, “Oh Tristan!” I sighed, stroking my nipples, pulling them tight, rolling, stretching and squeezing. And never breaking eye contact, I let out a breathy moan, lifting a breast to my lips, licking the tip, sucking deeply on the pink nub before popping it out, saliva running in a long loop from my breast to my mouth.

  But the show wasn’t over yet. Lasciviously swaying my hips, I tasted my other boob as well, again suckling while shimmying, entrancing Tristan with my curvy form. And the man groaned roughly, his hand a blur on his shaft now, staring at me, panting with unrequited lust.

  “Bend over,” he commanded harshly. “Show me that cunt.”

  And we’d just gotten to my favorite part. Because when I sashayed into the living room, you couldn’t tell that I had crotchless panties on, the front of my pussy was covered with a thin slip of satin, everything kosher.

  But oh shit, everything changed as I bent over, precariously perched in those ridiculously high heels.

  “Daddy,” I whispered sensuously, shooting him a sly look over my shoulder while stroking my hands down my thighs. “Is this what you want?”

  And as I bent over, lower, lower, my snatch came into view, that beautiful twat steaming, pink and puffy, bare to his gaze, framed by the tiniest strips of red lace. I shook my kitty at him, teasing, baiting. “You wanna fuck me with my panties on?” I cooed.

  And I thought Tristan was going to lose it then, there was literally a stream of pre-cum dripping from his dick now, the entire shaft so wet that you could hear his hand as it juiced up and down. But the alpha surprised me.

  “Not just yet baby girl,” he growled, his eyes on fire. “I see you brought a gift for me, and I’m going to return the favor. I have one, no two, presents for you.”

  I moaned, still bent over, lids half-closed as I held his gaze. Slowly, oh so slowly, I ran a finger up and down my cunt lips, coating the digit in cream before popping it into my mouth, tasting my own nectar. Fuck it was
good, tangy and slightly musky, so utterly delicious.

  “What is it Daddy?” I cooed breathily between licks. “What could be better than this?”

  And slowly Tristan reached behind the couch, letting go of his cock for a moment. The rod sprang into the air, huge and veined, pulsing with power. I almost orgasmed right there, the thought of that pole buried in me juicing me up, arousing me to the point of no return.

  But Mr. Marks was unpredictable because when he turned back, his hands were full with a fat dildo and a mirror.

  “Wha-what is that?” I gasped, trembling on my high heels. Was I supposed to eat the dildo while watching myself in the mirror? Dance in front of the small hand mirror? It made no sense.

  But Tristan had all the answers.

  “Honey, have you ever heard of a wall-mounted dildo?” he ground out. He backtracked for as second, thoughtful. “Baby, do you even know what a dildo is?” he asked, remembering my inexperience.

  I giggled a little nervously.

  “Daddy, I was a virgin so I’ve never actually used a dildo, but yeah, I know what it is,” I tittered. “I watch porn you know,” I admitted, coloring slightly. “I’m a bad girl.”

  “I know you’re bad, that’s why I love you,” he ground out, chest tight, eyes devouring me. “And because you are, I want you to try it out, I want a newly-fucked virgin to fuck herself using a dildo and a mirror.”

  I paused, still confused.

  “But I don’t get it,” I said in a soft voice, playing with the strings of my panties, teasing him. “Don’t I just get on the couch and put the thingy in me?” It seemed simple enough.

  The big man let out a deep chuckle then, throwing his head back.

  “Sure, if this were some X-rated fantasy, then yeah I’d let you just lean back and push this into yourself,” he growled, “but honey, we’re not X-rated. We’re triple-X, you and I.”

  And I creamed a little just hearing that, delicious tingles running through my pussy. Because Mr. Marks and I were on the same level, both our minds in the gutter, willing to do anything to make the other come. So I stood up, sashaying over to him, standing between his knees, letting him look at my creamy form, bare but for the tiny strip of red lace and hooker heels.