Falling for My Beautiful Ward Page 20

  And Harvey nodded his head, thinking for a moment.

  “Baby what do you think I do for a living?” he said, leaning back once more, relaxed in those striped pajamas.

  “You’re the publisher of PrettyGirl,” I huffed impatiently. “Everyone knows that. This is your company, you’ve been in charge for fifty years.”

  “That’s right,” nodded the old man sagely. “And you came to one of my pajama parties, you’ve met my girlfriends, plural. You think business doesn’t mix with pleasure?”

  “Well, of course it does,” I protested. “But you’re you! I mean, you’re Harvey Echo, everyone knows what you do. You’re a porn legend, you’ve been doing this for years! Trsitan should know better.”

  Harvey just shook his head, taking another rpuff of his pipe.

  “You young’uns are all the same,” he said drolly. “All the same, believing everything you see.”

  “What,” I fumed. “Is this penthouse just a lie? Your girlfriends are just a lie? The pajama parties filled with cute girls a mirage?”

  And surprisingly, Harvey nodded.

  “It’s an image,” he said smoothly. “I keep up an image, just like Tristan Marks, to help my business. You think a seventy-two year old geezer can keep up with three young blondes? You thnk I’m really doing girl after girl, night after night? Hell no, I’ve got arthritius, and frankly Mr. Happy just isnt’ that interested anymore. So yeah, I mix business with pleasure.”

  I stopped for a moment. So there was a mirage out there. Harvey had a public image that was totally different from his private.

  “But you don’t’ let it impact your private life, do you?” I asked slowly. “Tell me you don’t, Harvye.”

  And the old man took a deep breath, eyes faraway before turning back to me.

  “The fact is honey, it has,” he said brusquely. “This shit gets to you and I can’t maintain a normal relationship. Haven’t had one since I was thirty-five, so yeah, what you’re asking is a complicated question. You don’t want Tristan to be motivated by his business, but when you’ve grown a company for years, it becomes a part of you. You can no more separate the man from his baby than you could ask him to tear his own heart out.”

  That frazzled me.

  “But what do I do?” I asked in an urgent voice. “What do I do? He only wants me because it’s good for his business now.”

  And there, Harvey interrupted.

  “I dunno if it’s only good for his business,” he said wryly. “Sounds like there’s a lot more to this than business, a helluva lot more. So why don’t you ask him? Why don’t you get him to tell you what this is all about.”

  And I flushed, remembering how Tristan had called me to his office. The big man had been trying to have a real conversation with me, to tell me what was in his heart, but I’d brushed it off with a light laugh, a wave of my hand, seducing him with my body instead. So I hung my head.

  “Maybe I will,” I said in a low voice. “Maybe I will.”

  And suddenly, my heart cracked open just a little, and I knew what I wanted. Despite my reservations, despite my mixed feelings, I did want to be with Tristan. The big man meant the world to me, he was my universe, my Daddy, and I had to have this conversation, however painful.

  “Thanks Harvey,” I said with a kiss to the old man’s wizened cheek. “Thanks so much, you’ve opened my eyes.” And as I rushed to the door, stumbling on the way to the elevator, all I heard were the old man’s chuckles ringing in my ears.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Daisy

  I stood with Tristan in the shower, pressing my curves against him. Mr. Marks was gorgeous and it was hard to focus as he shampooed my hair, massaging my scalp, rinsing out the suds gently, making sure that no soap got in my eyes.

  “Oh Daddy,” I moaned, luxuriating in his gentle touch, the big hands skimming my curves, pausing to squeeze a breast, play with the nipple before moving lower to caress my waist, my hip, dip into the vee between my thighs.

  “Yes, little girl,” he rumbled against my ear, kneeling down and parting my legs, leaning forward to taste the nectar there, letting my cream run down his throat. “Yes.”

  But I forced myself to focus.

  “Daddy,” I said hesitantly. “I want you to know that I’ve forgiven you.”

  His eyes snapped open then, looking up at me through the spray, dark blue and dangerous. But his voice was deceptively mild.

  “Forgiven?” he rumbled, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t realize you were mad.”

  And I laughed hesitantly then.

  “Well, I have been avoiding you emotionally, a little bit,” I admitted. “But I’m through with that now.”

  “Mm-hmm,” the big man ground out, vibrating his lips against my clit. “And what’s changed?”

  I sighed, trying my best to stay focused even as he worked my sensitive nub, kissed my cunt.

  “I’ve realized that there are no Prince Charmings,” I gasped between breathy sighs. “I’ve realized there’s only you.”

  Tristan paused again, crouched between my legs, one finger still lightly trailing through the pink folds.

  “What do you mean, no Prince Charmings?” he asked. “I thought I was your Prince Charming.”

  “You are, you are,” I sighed, sitting down on the shower seat and pulling up my knees so that my pussy and ass were bared to him, the pink flesh steaming and wet, my little brown pucker winking. And like a man mesmerized, Tristan knelt before me, taking his dick in hand and running the tip through my folds, lubing me up with a trail of pre-cum. “But I’m not mad at you anymore,” I gasped as he pushed in, his cock immediately bottoming out, ten inches straight up my inner channel, making me writhe with ecstasy.

  “So what does this mean?” he asked, stroking deeply in me, pulling in and out, massaging my inner channel.

  And I paused for a moment, putting my hands on his shoulders, both of us stilling.

  “What it means is that I get it,” I panted. “You had me in the closet for a while because the time wasn’t right. You had to get everything sorted out before we could go public with our relationship.”

  Tristan looked deeply in my eyes, cock still buried in my snatch.

  “But I told you all this before, from when we met in your apartment,” he growled. “What made you come around?”

  “Well I had a talk with my mentor and let’s just say he made me see the light. Life isn’t that simple, timing is everything and there are many types of happily ever afters,” I murmured, suddenly shy, cheeks growing red. “You are my Prince Charming, you are my everything … and I’m not afraid to say it,” I panted slightly.

  But Tristan wasn’t completely convinced yet.

  “And who is this mentor, may I ask?” he growled into my ear, hips jerking reflexively, twitching inside me, making me moan. “Who is this dude I owe my life to?” he demanded.

  I flushed, it seemed so wrong to say another man’s name when Tristan was literally in me, my pussy wrapped snugly around his cock. But I figured it wouldn’t matter, that this wasn’t the time to hold back. We were on a roll in terms of baring our souls and besides, Harvey Echo was an old man, he’d never be competition for my alpha male.

  “It’s Harvey Echo,” I panted breathlessly, wriggling my hips slightly, trying to get Tristan to start stroking again. I loved him so much in my pussy, desperately needed to be fucked, to feel that delicious friction working my little cunt. “You know, the publishing magnate?”

  And at that, Tristan pulled out completely, leaving my kitty empty, shockingly hollow, a void opening at my core.

  “Harvey Echo?” he repeated disbelieving. “You know that we’re in the same industry right Daisy?” he asked, seizing my shoulders, shaking me a little. “You know we’re competitors of a sort, that I’m buying his mag PrettyGirl. Don’t tell me he’s your buddy, that you’ve been confiding in him, telling him about our sex life.”

  My hand flew to my mouth.

  “I knew you w
ere in the same industry Mr. Marks but I didn’t know that you were buying PrettyGirl! Oh god, I hope I didn’t screw things up,” I gasped, eyes wide.

  And Tristan’s eyes grew dark, menacing even, dragging my butt rudely to the edge of the shower seat so that I was perched precariously, pushing my knees up, forcing my hips forward.

  “You, my silly girl, have been very, very foolish, and for that Daddy’s going to punish you,” he growled, his big hands gripping my thighs. And without any further ado, he pushed his cock deep into my ass, doing the anal drill, making me twitch.

  “Oh!” I squealed. “Oh oh oh!”

  Tristan just hissed in my ear.

  “You’ve been a very bad girl, Daisy, and Daddy’s not over it, not by a long shot,” he husked, pulling my ass on him tight, the hot meat buried deep up my backside, my hole violated. “But this is our first move towards working it out because you’re gonna make it up to me,” he hissed, cock making me tremble, burn, and writhe in ecstasy.

  And I screamed then, both in ecstasy and agony. What was he talking about?

  “You’re gonna make it up to me,” he rasped, biting the side of my neck as his dick rammed up my backside. “You’ve been talking to the competitor, spilling the beans, and you’re gonna make it up to me.”

  And at that moment, I was ready to give it my all.

  “Yes Daddy,” I cried out, writhing, impaled on his stiff shaft, bolts of lightning shooting through my cunt. “Yes Daddy, I’ll make it up to you, use me however you want.”

  And with that, Tristan grunted, spurting reams of white deep inside.

  “Baby, what I want is …,” he rasped.

  But I couldn’t hear because orgasm with tearing through me, so vivid and strong, pulsing with vibrations that his voice was drowned out. And I screamed my ecstasy.

  “Tristan, I love you!” I shrieked, lifting my mouth to the man, sealing him with my kiss, begging him to forgive me. And the big man took my everything, my little body, my voice, my ass, everything that was on show was his. But even those that weren’t, namely my heart, belonged to him as well. And as we came down from heaven, he stroked my back soothingly, helping me relax as the muscle spasms subsided.

  “Fuck you,” he rumble din my ear. “Fuck you Daisy Smith.”

  And I smiled lazily, languorously against his shoulder.

  “By all means,” I teased, out of breath. “You want to tell me how I make it up to you?”

  He held me tight, cock still embedded in my backside.

  “I just can’t believe this has happened,” he growled, shaking his head.

  “What, that I’ve fallen in love with you? And by the way, you haven’t said it back,” I mewled gently, lips in a teasing pout.

  And the big man grabbed my shoulders then, holding my small frame close.

  “Honey, it’s not that,” he choked out. “Well, it is, what I mean is …” His voice trailed off. But I was a brave woman now, I was changed, and had enough for both of us.

  “That you love me too?” I said with a gentle smile, stroking that strong jaw. “That you love me?”

  And mutely, Tristan put his head on my breast, resting against the soft flesh.

  “Daisy Smith, I don’t know what that old geezer said to you, but whatever he said, he deserves a reward,” he choked out once more. “Because yes, I love you, I love you so much and I’m so sorry about everything that happened. I know how it looks, that I only wanted you once it was okay for my business, but that’s not true,” he said fiercely.

  “It’s not?” I asked eyebrows raised.

  “It’s not,” he confirmed roughly. “I’ve always wanted you, I just couldn’t take it public until the time was right. I’m sorry honey, I’m a businessman through and through, and my baby is this business,” he choked out once more. “I founded Marks Holdings when I was twenty-one, I’ve grown it from a seedling. I can’t throw it all down the toilet in one fell swoop.”

  And I nodded, at peace for the first time in a long time.

  “I know, Tristan, I know,” I said gently, rubbing his back.

  The big man jerked his head up.

  “But how?” he asked, anguished. “Why are you so understanding? What changed?”

  And I shook my head, contemplative, despite the fact that we were still both nude in the shower, intimately connected.

  “I guess what it is, is that the world isn’t so black and white,” I murmured gently. “Before, I thought it had to be me or the company. Me or Marks Holdings, me versus the world. But I’ve come to realize that you are the company,” I said slowly. “That this corporation is a part of you for better or worse.”

  And Tristan bowed his head, anguished.

  “And that’s the thing, baby,” he ground out, voice rough and agonized. “I don’t want to have to choose.”

  But I laughed gently then, stroking his hair.

  “And that’s the beauty of it,” I chided gently. “Now that I have an expansive world view, I know that it’s not me versus the world or me versus the company. There’s room for us both, there’s more than one way to approach a situation, and yeah, timing is everything. So I understand Tristan. I understand why you didn’t want to go public with the story of “us” until all the ducks were in order.”

  And the big man nodded again.

  “I’m so sorry,” he ground out once more. “I had to wait ….”

  I interrupted.

  “I know,” I said gently. “And I forgive you,” I finished, with a kiss.

  And that’s the story of Tristan and I, everything wrong and yet everything right, all at the same. Because now I understand better. Call it maturity, call it growing up, call it the immeasurable influence of Harvey Echo. But what had made me fighting mad just two days ago didn’t seem to matter so much anymore. I understood my man better now. Tristan had Marks Holdings long before me, this was his first love, his lifeline for many years before I came along.

  And I could no more take that away from him than build him a different heart. So instead, I accepted. I accepted that my magnate, the CEO, the head of an international conglomerate would always be tied to this company he founded. But the thing is that Marks Holdings isn’t first, and I’m not second, nor is the situation reversed. We orbit in different spheres, and we mean different things to the man, which is for the better. After all, isn’t diversity good? Isn’t it good to have a plethora of interests, a grab bag of resources, to expand your mind all the while expanding your heart?

  So yes, I’ve made peace with the situation. Tristan didn’t want to acknowledge me as his lover until the timing was perfect business-wise, and I’ve accepted that now. After all, I’m only nineteen and hardly in a rush, the world’s my oyster. And reassuringly, the best part of being with a powerful man is that Tristan’s got infinite resources at his fingertips. So if I need something, or if his company needs something, most times, it’s totally fine. Mr. Marks will find some way to make them both happen, it’s not a big deal. So yeah, with a little understanding, a little deep thinking, and a big push from my mentor, I got over my hang-up. Prince Charmings are multi-dimensional, and my particular Prince Charming is as complicated as a Rubik’s cube turned backwards and twisted inside out. I’ll never understand Tristan completely, but that’s the beauty of it. My lover, my man, my everything always has me on my toes … and it suits me just fine.

  EPILOGUE

  Tristan

  She was gorgeous in the white dress, absolutely stunning. The lace fell sweetly over her shoulders, highlighting toned limbs, the deep cleavage hinting at those lush curves, revealing without giving away.

  Because we’re getting married, Daisy and I. Oh yeah, we’ve decided to go big too, make it a society wedding, everyone who’s anyone has been invited to my estate, the property decked out for the spectacular event. But I couldn’t care about any of that right now. Because we were in a dark room, a closet really, while caterers rushed around outside, florists and decorators in a panic, looking for the
missing bride and groom.

  Because yeah, we were missing the celebration. My dick was buried in Daisy’s cunt at the moment, the wedding dress hitched above her hips as we banged, deep, sensuous and raw in our hidey-hole.

  “Mr. Marks, Mr. Marks,” she panted into my ear. “Oh god, oh god, oh god!”

  And I came then, sperm spilling into her cunt, the white painting her insides with a coat of cream, jizz hot in her channel, so much of it that it spilled out between us, squeezing out around my dick, coating my balls and running down her thighs.

  As I pulled out, a sweet squelching sound accompanied the withdrawal, both of us watching as our joined bodies parted, my veiny cock still stiff, glistening and glossy with our combined juices. And Daisy moaned softly, boobs heaving up and down, pussy clamping reflexively as if missing the connection already. And slowly, oh so slowly, white rose up from inside her, bubbling hotly at her hole before spilling out, the cream pie so luscious, the hot semen gooey and oozing.

  “Don’t waste any of that,” I ground out, scooping it up with a finger, lazily running my hand up to her snatch and pushing the digit in, putting the jism back where it belonged. “This stuff’s precious, it belongs in your pussy,” I rumbled into her ear.

  And Daisy shot me a sweet smile.

  “Daddy, don’t worry about there not being enough,” she said coyly. “We can afford to waste some just now.”

  My heart started pounding, almost throwing itself out my chest.

  “What do you mean?” I began slowly. “Are you saying …?”

  And Daisy nodded, a sweet smile playing on her lips.

  “Yes, Mr. Marks, I’m pregnant with your baby,” she murmured, pulling me close once again, pressing a kiss to my lips, licking me gently, that soft pout so tempting. “I’m going to have your baby, aren’t you happy?” she asked, lifting her face to mine.

  And I gathered her close, my hands stroking over her curves, her back, the luscious swell of her ass.