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CHAPTER TWO
MASON
SHE IS COMING. My sweet little girl, cara mia, is on her way to Tuscany right now and set to arrive any minute. I’ve made arrangements with her father; I’ve sent a driver to pick her up from the airport. I don’t trust myself to be around her yet. I need every second I have left on my own to remind myself I need to go slow. Ease her into it. Break her slowly, piece by piece, until Cara submits to me completely.
I down my whiskey in one go and set the glass down on the marble countertop. The sound echoes in the spacious kitchen, and I run a hand through my dark hair as I wait. My cock is already straining against my pajama trousers, hard as a fucking rock with the mere thought of her. I remember her as if it was only a day ago that I’d seen her.
An image flashes through my mind. Cara Newton, a vision in a white dress with a halo of flowers around her head. The heady scent of orange blossoms assaults my nose as I come closer, her innocent eyes slowly climbing up, up, up, until they reach mine. I am so much taller, so much bigger. She’s a tiny thing compared to me, a tiny fucking thing I want to own so badly it makes my chest ache.
A noise interrupts my thoughts and I grin to myself as I hear my driver pull up in front of the house. More noise follows and I hear voices, but they are too muffled to differentiate between their owners. I look through the French doors leading out into my lavish garden as the voices come closer and closer. I hear footsteps hitting the ground and I turn around, readying myself for the sight I am about to witness.
Truth be told, nothing could prepare me for the vision in front of me. She is beautiful, lovelier even than I remember from the first time I saw her.
Another flashback. Cara Newton, the daughter of my best friend from work, back when I was still working in the States. She is sweetness and innocence wrapped into a feisty little package even at the ripe age of sixteen. She is stunning, she is delicious, and she is so fucking forbidden it makes my damn mouth water.
“Hello,” I say easily, my voice low and throaty as she raises her eyes to mine, just like at her sixteenth birthday party. “I’m glad you’re here, Cara.”
Her eyes go wide as she drinks me in. I see a flicker of recognition in her gaze. She knows who I am. It shouldn’t have an effect on me, but it does. My dick strains painfully against my thigh and Cara’s mouth opens in a soft gasp as she comes towards me.
“Signorina Newton, this is Mr. Mason Scott,” my driver, Filippe, introduces us. His voice seems a little embarrassed since I’m not dressed properly for the meeting, but I’m sure the man’s seen worse from me. I’m not exactly known for my propriety. “Mr. Scott, this is Cara Newton.”
“We’ve met before,” she says softly, and I grin as I approach her. Her eyes drink me in, all six foot five of me towering above her like a fucking giant. She extends a hand for me to shake and I kiss the back of it, smirking at her. She’s openly staring, her eyes resting on my toned abs and rock hard chest. If she notices the hardness of my cock, she doesn’t say a word, but a light blush colors her pretty cheeks in a shade of rosy red. “Do you remember?” she asks me sweetly. “It must’ve been… Two years ago now. At my sixteenth birthday party?”
The sound of live music.
The oppressing heat of the late summer day, making me sweat underneath my custom-tailored Armani suit.
Her, tripping into my arms. Those eyes, fearfully meeting mine as if she’s afraid of me doling out punishment for what she’s done and craving it at the same time. The way she licks her lips when our eyes meet.
No words are exchanged, she doesn’t know who I am, she probably never even finds out my name. But I make it my business to get to know everything about her before I leave her sweet sixteenth. I’m in town on business, and her father, an old colleague of mine, invites me over after years and years of not hearing from one another. I don’t stay long – I can’t, not with my flight leaving in a few hours – but it is enough to memorize the contours of Cara’s beautiful face. Enough to decide she has to be mine.
I bide my time carefully. When she fell into my arms, the girl was merely sixteen. It wouldn’t feel fucking right. It still doesn’t, in more ways than one. But what can I say… I like beautiful things, and the moment I saw Cara Newton, I knew I had to add her to my collection.
“Vaguely,” I reply with a smirk, and her whole face falls when she thinks I don’t remember her. I love it, love how addicted she is to attention. My eyes go over her petite body lazily, seeing all the changes two years have made to my girl. She isn’t taller at all, but her curves are those of a grown woman now. Her tits are small and pert, and her waist is abnormally tiny in the sweet summer dress she’s wearing. I want to rip it off her, now that I finally can. In fact, my hands form fists at my sides so I don’t do it right there on the spot. I want her already. I don’t want to fucking wait.
Patience was never a virtue of mine, and seeing beautiful Cara in front of me makes me want to ravage her.
“Filippe will show you to your room,” I tell her easily. “I’d like to meet you downstairs in an hour so we can get to know each other properly. I’m sure you’re tired from your long journey.”
She nods, and has trouble leaving. I can already tell she feels it too, the fucking pull towards me which makes it impossible to stay away. I felt it for the first time at her birthday party, and I pulled all the fucking right strings to get her in my arms this summer. And now all that’s left to do is turn Cara into a woman.
Filippe leads her away and I’m wildly jealous of his hand on the small of her back, even though my driver has had a boyfriend for the past thirty years. Still, I want it to be my hand, guiding her into a room on my property.
I head into my study. I lock the door behind me and strip my pajama trousers before sitting down at my desk and turning my computer on. The monitor flickers to life and my pupils dilate as I see her. Filippe’s showing her into her room, the camera showing me her beautiful image. She doesn’t know it’s there, and there’s no way she’ll find the camera hidden in the ceiling of her room.
I grin to myself once my driver leaves her, my hand going to my cock and slowly stroking the length of it as Cara twirls around her new room. She’s still blushing, and her lips part in a sigh as she opens the French doors leading out to the balcony. She looks at the stunning view, but merely for a few seconds. Then, she comes towards the white dressing table and looks into the full-length mirror at her perfect image.
Another camera switches on, and I’m right there, behind the mirror, looking at the girl I’ve wanted to own for two years. The girl I am so obsessed with, I orchestrated everything, from her daddy’s approval, to a whole fake personality, just so I could fucking have her. I’m a sick fuck, and I never denied it. But from the moment I had Cara in my hands, I knew she craved this domination as badly as I did. And now it’s finally time.
The strap of her dress falls down her shoulder and she tugs on it impatiently. A low groan escapes my throat and I stroke my dick harder, long motions threatening to make me come undone any second now. Having her this close to me, only a few hallways away, is fucking with my head. She’s all I’ve thought about for the past two years. Her mouth the only thing I’ve wanted, her sweet little pussy the one I’ve been waiting for my entire life. And as she slips her dress off her body, I can’t fucking help it. I stroke my cock harder, watching her move in front of the mirror, appraising her perfect image with critical eyes.
She pulls the dress down and reveals a pretty, lacy pink bra to my eyes. I cup my balls, heavy with the release I’ve been building up for her for such a long fucking time. “Cara,” I groan to myself. “Jesus fucking Christ.” She’s already giving me a show, and she’s been here for mere minutes. I’m more than pleased with myself for installing the hidden cameras.
The dress slips down her hips and pools at her feet, and she steps out of it slowly while I stare at her beautiful image. Her body is tiny, and she’s very frail, almost fragile looking. I think of all the fuc
king ways I want to hurt her and I can’t stop myself any longer. Thick, long ropes of cum spurt from my cock, landing on my desk as I groan her name and relieve myself of the tension I’ve felt for two damn years.
I keep staring at her, slowly jerking my cock that refuses to soften. On my computer screen, Cara reaches for her bra strap and slowly pulls it down. I’m moments away from seeing her tits, and I turn my back to the monitor, getting up from my chair, naked as I am.
I don’t want to steal this moment from her, like I did the others.
I want her to give it to me willingly, just like she will her virgin pink pussy, her tight little ass and her sweet mouth. I know no one’s had them yet. I made damn fucking sure about that. No one touches my sweet doll until she’s ready to play with me.
There’s an ensuite bathroom adjoined to my study and bedroom, and I head inside there now to wash my spendings from my body. The water running from the shower is cool, almost icy, and I like it that way. I already know I’m going to have trouble keeping my hands off Cara, and I need to get rid of as many stimuli as humanly possible.
My cock grows impossibly hard in the shower again, the mere thought of Cara only a few hallways away fucking with my head so fucking much I nearly burst all over the expensive marble tiles again. I restrain myself, and I come out of the shower with my head much fucking clearer.
I look at myself in the mirror, giving my image a critical stare as the steam fogs up my view. I’m older than her, not by a scandalous amount, but enough to raise some brows. A thirty-two-year-old man with an eighteen-year-old virgin would definitely cause some uproar in her part of the world. But I’m handsome, probably more so now than ever. My features are chiseled, stubble covering my chin and the bottom part of my face. My eyes are a dark brown and my hair is almost black. I look like fucking sin in a suit, and like a dream when it’s off, and I like to use it to my advantage.
My gaze falls lower, to my body. I’ve worked hard to keep myself in shape, and that’s one thing about me that’s never gonna change. My chest and stomach are covered in a thin layer of hair, dark and soft and so fucking different to those pansy-ass boys Cara must be used to. I’ve heard the term ‘real man’ thrown around, and I know I would be considered. Not just because of my looks, but because I care about the woman I’m with. And when it comes to Cara… I’m gonna show her what a real man looks like.
And fucks like.
I exit the bathroom, toweling off with an expensive Egyptian cotton blend, when I see my phone vibrating on the bed. I reach for it, and my eyes light up as I see an incoming text from a number I’ve memorized by now.
