The Marriage Dare

Putting my cock away, I pull her to her feet and guide her to the guest room. She’s still naked, and I retrieve a robe from the bathroom and wrap it around her. She looks confused again, so I tilt her face up to meet mine. “I made myself clear,” I say. “I’m not fucking you until we’re married. And even then, you know the rules.”

Her happiness crashes. I can see it. “I’ll have to beg.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” The word is small and sad, and I feel a flinch inside. I don’t want to hurt her. “You hate me that much?”

I take her by the hair again and force her eyes to mine. I like having my hand in her hair. It’s soft and silky against my skin, and the way her breath catches when I tighten my fingers in it makes me hard. And I like that I can make her do what I like when I have her like this. She likes it too. “I already told you that I don’t hate you. But no matter what money troubles you’ve had, Princess, everything has come easy to you. You don’t know what it’s like to have to ask for something and be told no, and have to accept that.”

“You don’t know that,” she says viciously. “You have no idea what my life has been like.”

“And I’m going to hear it. But you are mine. You are marrying me. And I want you to learn what it’s like to ask for the things you want. Right now, I know that the thing that you want is me. So you can feel free to ask me any time. Beg me any time. Sometimes I’ll say yes, and sometimes I’ll say no.”

“But—”

“But nothing. You need boundaries, Monica, and you’ll learn them with me.”

She tries to pull away from me, but I don’t let her go. I wrap my arm around her waist and hold her naked body pinned against me. She’ll feel how turned on I am already, and I don’t care. I love the way she feels.

“Fuck you,” she spits out.

“You wish,” I say simply, smiling, and I’m rewarded with a glare that would level me if looks could kill. And then I kiss her. Her body reacts first, going limp and pliant against me. I know the moment she realizes what’s happening and goes still. So I release her, stepping back. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t force her. But I know that I won’t have to.

“For the few days until we’re married,” I say, “this will be your room. I’ll have some pajamas delivered from downstairs, and feel free to call for room service. But know that Devon and Jack are outside.”

“So no running away.”

She has no idea how sexy she looks, robe gaping and showing a delicious glimpse of her cleavage. “We both know that you don’t want to run, though you can keep pretending if you like.”

The blush on her face is lovely.

“I’ll make sure you have clothes in the morning, and we can make other arrangements. Goodnight, Monica.”

I close the door behind me as I exit the guest bedroom. She’s not locked in, and I’m sure she’ll test that, but she won’t see me again tonight. She needs space now to figure out her own thoughts without me clouding them. It will be interesting to see how she feels in the morning. I’m really good at reading people, but Monica Blast is unpredictable. It could go either direction. She could suddenly decide to behave, or not. I think it’ll be somewhere in between.

She doesn’t want this, but she needs it. I need it too, and that’s the thing that I don’t want to admit. I say that I’m doing this for revenge, and I am. But it’s not just that. I won’t allow myself to let the thought raise about why I’m really doing it.

Seems like Monica isn’t the only one who needs time to get her thoughts sorted. I pour myself a drink. I rarely have more than two in a night, but I’m done. I’m not going downstairs again—everything is taken care of on that front—and all I’m going to do is relax and sleep.

Just hours ago I thought that I needed a good fuck to relax. Never imagined that this would happen. It wasn’t a fuck, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I think that I was wrong when I was thinking that I need a vacation. The truth is that I’ve never really known what to do on vacations. My entire life I’ve had to work, and taking pure leisure time, even when I can afford to do it, feels strange.

What I actually needed was a project, and I found one. Monica. I feel more refreshed than I have in ages, and it’s not because she sucks cock better than any woman I’ve ever been with. I’m excited about this. About learning about her. About teaching her. And yes, about making her pay for what she’s done. I’ll always admit that I’m a bastard—I am. I’m going to enjoy pleasuring her as much as all the rest of it.