–Aamon–
I kissed her lips and woke her with my face between her legs.
She gasped as her body arched.
She was already wet for me.
I went further until she shattered with a sweet release, making my face wet.
I removed the pajama pants from her ankles.
I pushed her knees up and leaned to her ear, spreading her.
She breathed as she looked at me with those sleepy eyes.
I teased her, rubbing the head of my cock on her labia.
“Hmm, Mr.
A… please…”
“You want that, little bunny?” She nodded as I pushed in deep and fast.
She gasped, screaming out, and I started making love to her like there was no tomorrow.
She screamed in pleasure, breathing heavily.
“Fuck!” she moaned and shook her head.
“I’m~~”
“Uhuh?” I grinned as I stopped.
She looked up at me, betrayed.
“Why did you stop?”
“You are breaking my cock, zayka.
You clenched around me so fucking tight.”
“That’s because you are so damn big!
Can you just resize your cock!” she shouted, frustrated.
I roared with laughter, growled, and continued ramming into her until she finally came, squirting like a fountain.
I pushed back into her, feeling her breathing when I was inside.
“Touch your breasts, little bunny.” And she did, teasing her pink nipples.
She bit her lower lip hard as I thrust faster.
She clenched around me again, her whole body convulsed, and I pulled out as she came, and I followed her.
I didn’t bother stroking since strings of cum jetted onto her tummy.
I crouched down and kissed her lips.
“Stay home today, baby.
You might not be able to walk.” She groaned and frowned at me.
“This is your fault,” she accused me as I flashed a grin and bit her lower lip.
I helped her clean up and put those pants back on.
I gave her warm water this time and made her drink it.
Then, she went back to sleep.
I dressed in a T-shirt and pants.
Then, I left her house.
I made sure that it was locked.
I checked the cameras from my phone.
I only had access to the cameras inside her house.
I went to my penthouse and took the luggage that I had prepared beforehand.
I checked my briefcase to make sure my passport was there.
I called Matt, who answered shortly.
“Hey, bro.
The car’s ready.
Where are you?”
“I’m going down now,” I muttered as I headed to the elevator.
“By the way, can we have someone help Caia prepare her passport and health cards for her and her sisters?”
“Yeah, I’m contacting someone now.”
I headed down, and he was already there, waving at me.
I put my luggage in the trunk, walked around to the passenger seat beside him, and got in.
He gave me the tablet and the details of the health company, the same provider as my company.
Then, he showed me the details of her passport, which had expired fifteen years ago.
She was five, or probably six years old when we last saw each other.
But ever since she was born, I had already been in her life.
Maybe I had changed and grown up differently, which was why she didn’t recognize me.
“Mr.
A?” Matt laughed as he drove down the parking lot.
“Stop it,” I hissed.
“I mean, seriously, bro.
You need to tell her the truth.
Are you playing with her?”
“I’m not.
I just don’t want her to see me as a brother, Matt.”
I looked at my camera.
She was still asleep, curled up on the bed.
My heart clenched.
I hated that I had to leave her.
Even though I was leaving, I had set up security protection for her and her sisters.
They were safe wherever they went.
“By the way, the supposed fiancée is in Russia, waiting for you.”
“Oh, fuck that bitch,” I muttered.
“Now, about the bodies?” I still had to check on the three bastards who groped my girl.
“Your dad helped with disposing of them.
We also found the getaway driver.
Good thing he had another mission where they kidnapped three underage girls.
We sent them back to their families.”
I raised my brows.
“That fucker.
Where is he?”
“He’s alive and confined.
You can have him when you come back from your trip.”
“You better keep him alive for me,” I muttered, gritting my teeth.
“Sure.”
******
–Caia–
I slipped off the bed, feeling sore.
But it was a good kind of sore.
I walked, nearly tripped, and now I was walking bowlegged.
I think I heard him murmuring in my ear, teasing me that I might need a wheelchair, but I was so drawn to him, building up to my orgasm.
“Damn it!” I exclaimed as I held on to the doorframe.
I went to the bathroom, did my business, washed my face, and went through my facial routine.
“Fuck you, Mr.
A!” I screamed, annoyed.
“You and your big dick.”
I promised myself I would stop him from going for round two, but that didn’t happen.
The next thing I remembered, he was already making love to me again, and the routine started all over.
I came out of the bathroom and headed back to the bed.
I lay down and picked up my old phone, only to see a message from him.
It was from two hours ago.
Mr.
Fucking A: I’m sorry, zayka.
I should’ve left a wheelchair.
I can’t be there to carry you around.
Mr.
Fucking A: My flight will take off in a few minutes, and I just want to say that you need to eat a lot.
And when I come back, I don’t want to see you so thin, baby girl.
You got it?
I rolled my eyes.
But then again, he was dramatically sweet.
I finally got up, turned off the air conditioner, pulled the duvets up, and tidied the sheets.
I opened the balcony door, which led to a nice garden, to let the air and sunlight seep in.
It would also help dry the sheets and remove the lingering scent of last night.
I was wearing his clothes, and somehow, they made me feel protected.
I rolled up the long pants so I wouldn’t trip.
Then, I headed out to make myself breakfast, still with my phone beside me.
I rummaged through the fridge and prepared myself a fine breakfast: pancakes, eggs, and bacon.
Not those very thin bacon strips, but thick ones.
I took a photo of it and sent it to him.
I knew he was already on his flight, but somehow, it made my heart flutter knowing that he cared about me.
I hadn’t asked him if he had a girlfriend, but I also hadn’t seen a ring on his finger.
So, I wasn’t a mistress.
Right?
I didn’t expect him to care about me this much.
He had protected me enough.
He had even killed men for me.
I didn’t know what he did for a living, but he was crazy rich, offering twenty million euros just to take my virginity.
My phone rang, and I answered it.
I smiled when I saw Uncle Alec’s name.
“Hello!” I said cheerfully.
“Hello, sweetheart!”
“Uncle, how are you?” I asked while eating my breakfast.
“I am perfectly fine.
So, your aunt and I thought of taking you and your sisters to the beach.
Just us.”
“Hmm, okay.
That’s great.
I’ll pack up now.”
“And it’s a surprise.” He chuckled.
“I miss Auntie, too.”
“She misses you as well, dear.
Where are you?
I’ll pick you up.”
“Uhm, I can meet you, Uncle.
I have a friend who can give me a lift.”
“Okay, that’s great,” he mumbled.
He gave me the time and address.
We had this sweet, almost father-and-daughter bond.
I liked Alec.
I think I called him Papa when I was little.
I picked up the swimsuit ready in the wardrobe, along with a few more mesh dresses and robes.
Sunscreen, too.
I shoved everything into my duffel bag.
My sisters had already gotten the message from Uncle.
Yesterday, I made sure they had all the clothes they needed, including swimsuits.
I still walked bowlegged because of that bastard who couldn’t stop at just one round.
But it wasn’t forced.
He never forced himself on me.
He seduced me.
I checked my phone again, searching for his messages.
What am I doing?
I wasn’t in love with Mr.
A, although he could make me lose myself in pleasure.
He was caring.
Gentle.
Unexpectedly.
He protected me.
I was lost in thought, but I gathered myself, bathed, lathered my body with sunscreen, and put on a little makeup.
I remembered last night, when he had massaged my calves with lotion and made me feel so good.
Oh, God.
Did I just pee, or do I feel wet down there?
Jeez!
I needed to get him out of my head.
Once I was ready, I headed down to the reception.
The receptionist was on the phone when she called me over.
“Miss Blackwood.” She waved cheerfully as I smiled and approached her.
“Mr.
Deiderich says to contact your driver.”
“Deiderich?” I muttered.
Must be Mr.
A.
But from what I knew, his surname wasn’t Deiderich.
“Yes, the driver will take you wherever you go.”
I nodded as she showed me the driver’s face and name on her tablet.
I took a photo with my phone as I went outside and found a black sedan waiting.
Fancy.
A driver stepped out.
He was tall, well-built, and smiling kindly at me.
“Miss Caia.” He extended his hand.
His voice was familiar.
He was Mr.
A’s driver.
I shook his hand.
“Sir Leo!” I exclaimed.
He opened the door for me and even took my heavy bag.
He placed it in the trunk.
Mr.
Leo was chatty, and I asked him how long he had been working with Mr.
A.
Whenever I said “Mr.
A,” he seemed to know that I was referring to his boss.
My phone chimed as I checked it.
Mr.
Fucking A: Yummm.
I’ll make love to you over the kitchen island soon.
I miss you, little bunny.
My face flushed.
Just how can he message me from the air?