Page 4
Story: Sold to the Beret
“I’m Rose,” I say, nervously worrying my lower lip like I do whenever I’m nervous.
He smiles at me reassuringly, though his eyes are soft and full of worry for me. “Just focus on me, okay? Forget about them. You don’t need to be afraid of me, Rose. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know,” I whisper. I believe him. I don’t know why, but I do. And when he bends to press his lips against mine, I’m filled with the sudden desire to prove that I’m okay. That I want this and I’m not afraid of him.
So I kiss him back, and when he slips his tongue into my mouth, I can’t help letting out a gasp of pleasure. As our tongues tangle together, his hand trails from my hip up my side, over the curve of my breast, to trace my nipple through the sheer fabric.
I moan at his touch, blushing at how eager I am. I can feel wetness already pooling between my thighs.
He shifts me so I’m straddling him in the seat, bringing me into the perfect position to feel the hardness of him through our clothes. I can’t help grinding against him slowly, and he groans softly, pulling our mouths apart. “You’re perfect,” he whispers inmy ear, trailing his lips along my jaw, nipping at my earlobe and kissing his way down my neck.
I’ve never felt anything like this before, never wanted anything so badly. And I know Ishouldn’twant this, surrounded by lecherous old men in this terrible chapel, but my body has a mind of its own.
I continue to grind against his length as he pulls down the lingerie they forced me to wear and bares my breasts to the chill air. As he takes one of my nipples into his mouth and begins to suck gently, one of his hands sneaks between my legs, easily pulling the scrap of fabric there to the side and sliding one of his fingers inside me.
He moans. “You’re so wet, princess. Is this all for me?”
“Yes,” I gasp. “Please.” I don’t even know what I’m begging for, but I instinctively know that whatever it is, he can give it to me. I’m whimpering now with need, my legs trembling as his finger slides through my wetness, dipping in and out of my pussy, then circling around my clit.
Some chatter is starting to resume in the crowd as they prepare for the next girl to come out on stage. A sharp laugh from a man in conversation a few yards away threatens to steal my attention, making me self-conscious, and Damien sharply pulls my face back around to him.
“Eyes on me,” he says sharply. “There’s no one else here—understand?”
I nod, kissing him firmly. “I understand.”
His length is straining even harder against his pants, and I suddenly realize I’m not exactly holding up my end of the deal. I need to please him too.
And Iwantto please him.
Though I’ve never done this before, and my hands are shaking, I reach for the zipper of his pants. Realizing what I’m doing, his hand between my legs stills. “Are you sure, princess?” he asks me.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Please let me touch you too.”
Though there’s something like guilt in his eyes, he quickly helps me remove his hard length. As soon as my hand is wrapped around him and stroking tentatively, he resumes the movement of his finger inside me, building up that pleasure, making me feel things I didn’t know I could.
With his other hand, he pulls my face to his and takes my mouth again. We’re kissing, our tongues tangled together, and I’m riding his hand as his skilled fingers pull pleasure from my body.
I clumsily move my hand up and down his length in time with my own movements. He’s so hard, even more than I expected, yet his skin is soft beneath my touch. His hips are rising to meet each downward stroke of my hand, and his thumb is now circling my clit as his finger glides in and out of my entrance.
“Come for me, princess.”
As if I’ve been waiting for his permission, my pleasure reaches its peak. I gasp, letting out a moan that he captures with another kiss, and my body shudders, tightening around his finger.
“So fucking tight,” he groans against my mouth as he shudders his release too, his first spurt of seed serving to slick the surface of his cock as I stroke him through his orgasm. I’m in awe that I was able to make him feel even a little bit of the pleasure he brought to me.
We’re both breathing heavily and staring into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Smiling softly at me, Damien tucks himself back into his pants, gently wiping my hand off on his boxers, andadjusts my lingerie so that when we enter the crowds again I’ll be somewhat covered.
“Let’s go home,” he says.
I nod into his shoulder, trying to conceal my blushing face.I can’t believe I did that! And in front of all these people!A sliver of pride is mixed in with all the other emotions I’m feeling—a little bit of lingering fear, but also relief, longing, and exhaustion.
He carries me all the way to his car, a sleek black Mercedes, gently placing me on the passenger seat like I’m some delicate glassware. Then he starts to unbutton his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine.
“W-what are you doing?” I stutter, my eyes widening as I watch him.
“It’s alright, princess. It’s just to cover you up,” he says, his lips tilting slightly in an amused smirk.
He pulls off his shirt, revealing a tight white T-shirt underneath. My throat goes dry at the sight of his huge muscular arms covered in intricate tribal tattoos. I stare at them in fascination as he puts the shirt over me and urges my arms into the sleeves. He’s bending over me as he buttons the shirt, so close I can barely breathe. Or think. His dark, masculine scent teases my senses, his warm breath caressing my skin, setting my skin on fire.
He smiles at me reassuringly, though his eyes are soft and full of worry for me. “Just focus on me, okay? Forget about them. You don’t need to be afraid of me, Rose. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know,” I whisper. I believe him. I don’t know why, but I do. And when he bends to press his lips against mine, I’m filled with the sudden desire to prove that I’m okay. That I want this and I’m not afraid of him.
So I kiss him back, and when he slips his tongue into my mouth, I can’t help letting out a gasp of pleasure. As our tongues tangle together, his hand trails from my hip up my side, over the curve of my breast, to trace my nipple through the sheer fabric.
I moan at his touch, blushing at how eager I am. I can feel wetness already pooling between my thighs.
He shifts me so I’m straddling him in the seat, bringing me into the perfect position to feel the hardness of him through our clothes. I can’t help grinding against him slowly, and he groans softly, pulling our mouths apart. “You’re perfect,” he whispers inmy ear, trailing his lips along my jaw, nipping at my earlobe and kissing his way down my neck.
I’ve never felt anything like this before, never wanted anything so badly. And I know Ishouldn’twant this, surrounded by lecherous old men in this terrible chapel, but my body has a mind of its own.
I continue to grind against his length as he pulls down the lingerie they forced me to wear and bares my breasts to the chill air. As he takes one of my nipples into his mouth and begins to suck gently, one of his hands sneaks between my legs, easily pulling the scrap of fabric there to the side and sliding one of his fingers inside me.
He moans. “You’re so wet, princess. Is this all for me?”
“Yes,” I gasp. “Please.” I don’t even know what I’m begging for, but I instinctively know that whatever it is, he can give it to me. I’m whimpering now with need, my legs trembling as his finger slides through my wetness, dipping in and out of my pussy, then circling around my clit.
Some chatter is starting to resume in the crowd as they prepare for the next girl to come out on stage. A sharp laugh from a man in conversation a few yards away threatens to steal my attention, making me self-conscious, and Damien sharply pulls my face back around to him.
“Eyes on me,” he says sharply. “There’s no one else here—understand?”
I nod, kissing him firmly. “I understand.”
His length is straining even harder against his pants, and I suddenly realize I’m not exactly holding up my end of the deal. I need to please him too.
And Iwantto please him.
Though I’ve never done this before, and my hands are shaking, I reach for the zipper of his pants. Realizing what I’m doing, his hand between my legs stills. “Are you sure, princess?” he asks me.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Please let me touch you too.”
Though there’s something like guilt in his eyes, he quickly helps me remove his hard length. As soon as my hand is wrapped around him and stroking tentatively, he resumes the movement of his finger inside me, building up that pleasure, making me feel things I didn’t know I could.
With his other hand, he pulls my face to his and takes my mouth again. We’re kissing, our tongues tangled together, and I’m riding his hand as his skilled fingers pull pleasure from my body.
I clumsily move my hand up and down his length in time with my own movements. He’s so hard, even more than I expected, yet his skin is soft beneath my touch. His hips are rising to meet each downward stroke of my hand, and his thumb is now circling my clit as his finger glides in and out of my entrance.
“Come for me, princess.”
As if I’ve been waiting for his permission, my pleasure reaches its peak. I gasp, letting out a moan that he captures with another kiss, and my body shudders, tightening around his finger.
“So fucking tight,” he groans against my mouth as he shudders his release too, his first spurt of seed serving to slick the surface of his cock as I stroke him through his orgasm. I’m in awe that I was able to make him feel even a little bit of the pleasure he brought to me.
We’re both breathing heavily and staring into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Smiling softly at me, Damien tucks himself back into his pants, gently wiping my hand off on his boxers, andadjusts my lingerie so that when we enter the crowds again I’ll be somewhat covered.
“Let’s go home,” he says.
I nod into his shoulder, trying to conceal my blushing face.I can’t believe I did that! And in front of all these people!A sliver of pride is mixed in with all the other emotions I’m feeling—a little bit of lingering fear, but also relief, longing, and exhaustion.
He carries me all the way to his car, a sleek black Mercedes, gently placing me on the passenger seat like I’m some delicate glassware. Then he starts to unbutton his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine.
“W-what are you doing?” I stutter, my eyes widening as I watch him.
“It’s alright, princess. It’s just to cover you up,” he says, his lips tilting slightly in an amused smirk.
He pulls off his shirt, revealing a tight white T-shirt underneath. My throat goes dry at the sight of his huge muscular arms covered in intricate tribal tattoos. I stare at them in fascination as he puts the shirt over me and urges my arms into the sleeves. He’s bending over me as he buttons the shirt, so close I can barely breathe. Or think. His dark, masculine scent teases my senses, his warm breath caressing my skin, setting my skin on fire.