MVP (VIP 3) - Page 12

“Ysabelle…” he said in a singing tone. “Why don’t you want to play with me?” He pushed in another finger and moved them in a come-here motion. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, but I didn’t make a sound. His fingers massaged my clit as he continued to lap at my anus. I kept as quiet as I could, trying to enjoy the sensations without giving away that I was close to orgasm.

“I know your body…” He paused and licked. “I know the way your skin glows…” He stopped and pressed his fingers in deeper and further. “I know how your back perspires just slightly…I know how your breathing teeters from heavy to still…” he arrogantly stated. “Tell me what I want to hear and I’ll let you have what you so desperately want.”

I gasped when he removed all his fingers and his tongue found my clit from behind immediately. I was on the tips of my toes, trying to get the most stimulation possible. He was unrelenting with taking me to the edge and then slowing down. I clenched my jaw and subtly swayed my hips.

He smacked my ass and laughed. “No cheating,” he ordered.

“Fuck!” I frustratingly yelled. I hated losing.

He attacked my nub with more determination and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please…please…please…” I shamelessly begged.

I knew he was smiling.

“Please what?” He licked in slow torture.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“And…” he groaned in between sucking.

“God…that feels good.”

The fucker started humming and the vibrations were indescribable.

“Please…Sebastian…please make me come…please…”

He mumbled something about my pussy tasting fucking amazing and he finally gave me what I wanted. I screamed out his name and he prolonged my orgasm by never letting up on his desire to taste me. I started to shake from the sensitivity and he stood and kicked off his gym shorts to coat his dick with my arousal.

“Spread your ass,” he ordered and I did as I was told. “Now that’s a fucking view,” he growled, smacking my ass.

My wetness pooled everywhere. He used his fingers at first, opening and preparing me. Once he knew I was ready, he slowly thrust in his cock. I felt minor discomfort until his head was in and then breathed through the rest. Once his balls hit my pussy and his hips pressed against my cheeks, I knew he was all the way in and I took several deep breaths.

“You good?” he asked.

“Yeah…” I moaned. “Go slow.”

He gently inched in and out; the burning sensation subsided and was replaced with the craving for more. My reactions stirred and I started to meet him for every push and pull.

“Touch yourself,” he groaned.

I lowered my hand to my throbbing clit and manipulated the bundle of nerves. I gritted my teeth from the impending orgasm that was looming.

“Jesus…fuck me…how do you get this tight…” he growled, gripping on to my hips harder.

He shoved all the way in and stalled. I knew what he wanted; he wanted to watch me dance, as he called it. I rotated my hips up and down, giving him the show he craved. Women truly are fucking you on the dance floor with their asses on your cocks. I felt his dick harden more and I knew he was close, as was I. Sebastian leaned forward and laid sloppy kisses all along my shoulder blades, breathing on me and that was enough to have me coming apart again. Wetness dripped out of my pussy as my ass milked him clean.

Just another normal Tuesday evening.

I had to take another shower, but it was worth it. Sebastian was sitting at the dining table with a huge smile on his face.

“I warmed up your food,” he said.

“That’s so thoughtful of you.”

“I’m a thoughtful kinda guy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, I was starving before you decided to violate me.”

He shook his head and gave me a cocky grin. “I didn’t hear you complaining; it was actually quite the opposite.”

I laughed. “I never turn down a good time.”

“How was your day?”

“It was great. I’m so looking forward to Colorado and spending some time alone with you,” I stated, taking a bite of chicken.

“About that…I talked to Julia today and she’s having some issues with Christian.”

“Oh wow, what’s going on?”

He sighed. “I guess he’s been talking back and not listening to her or his teachers. She thinks it might be from all the changes in the last year.”

I nodded. “Yeah, that is a lot for a kid to take in.”

“She suggested that we bring Christian with us to Colorado and I said yes. I think it would be good for us. I want him to get to know you better and vice versa.”

“Oh,” I replied.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Seriously? You know that bullshit isn’t going to work with me.”

“I don’t want to argue; let’s just drop it.”

“No. You not telling me is going to make us fight. We’ve made so much progress, Ysa, just tell me what’s up.”

“Fine.” I resigned. “I’m a little taken back and caught off guard with Christian coming to Colorado, not that I don’t want to spend time with him and get to know him. I just thought I would have been part of the decision-making process…or at least been asked how I felt about it.”

He winced. “I’m sorry, I had no idea. I thought you wouldn’t have had a problem with it.”

“I don’t. I have a problem that you didn’t include me, and you and Julia decided for us. That’s all. It doesn’t matter.” I shrugged. “It’s already done.”

“I can call—”

“No! Don’t you dare! Then I’ll just be the bitch and she will hate me even more.”

“Julia doesn’t hate you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Sebastian…she hates me and she has every right to.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You know, Ysabelle, the only person that hates you for what happened…is you.”

I wanted to argue with him, but I couldn’t because he was right. I did hate myself. I blamed myself for hurting her and breaking up his family. It didn’t matter how many times he told me that it would have happened regardless. I couldn’t change the fact that I fell in love with a married man. And all those thoughts lead right back to my other clients.

How many marriages had I broken up? How many men had fallen in love with me? How many women had I hurt?

I held so much guilt for not only Julia but for all the other women’s marriages I destroyed. It never bothered me before, and I never thought about it until after I left.

That was the part of VIP I hated.

To fuck with no remorse.

With no heart.

With no conscience.

It ate at me…

“I want to include you in everything and I apologize if you feel like I didn’t, that wasn’t my intention. I was absorbed and concerned with the behavior issues of my son, as any parent would. I miss him so much and to get to spend Christmas with two of the most important people in my life…seemed perfect,” he acknowledged.

He always had a way with words to make me feel at ease and safe. Christian was his only child and I knew he gave up a lot for me by moving. I wanted to get to know his son, but I had no clue what to do with a kid. It scared me to realize that they were a packaged deal. He was a father…I didn’t just break up a marriage.

I broke up a home.

“What are you thinking, Ysa? It’s written all over your face, your mind is spinning.”

I smiled. “It doesn’t matter. So…” I clapped my hands together. “Christian, tell me everything I need to know. Should I go buy toys or something? I mean, does he eat special foods?”

He chuckled, trying to hide the disappoint he felt from me not sharing. I couldn’t. He would want to make it better.

Maybe I wanted to punish myself…

“Christian is an amazing kid. You’re going

to love him and I know he’s going to love you.”

Ysabelle had demons, I knew it the second I laid my eyes on her. She was the strongest woman I had ever met; she’s also the most stubborn. Her thoughts and feelings were racing as I casually continued our conversation about Christian. Although she pretended to pay attention, I knew she was somewhere else. Lost in her own battlefield. I often wondered if the flag would ever go up. It’s so easy to be able to communicate with someone, it’s casual conversation where you talk about it and work things out. You reach common ground and in turn, the relationship gets stronger and better. That’s normal. That’s a relationship.

She wasn’t like that.

The damaged, broken, and scared woman before me owned my heart and soul. I wanted desperately to put her back together. When we first got together, I thought she was feisty. I thought she kept herself at arms length because that’s what she was trained to do. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Learning about her upbringing, her mother, Madam, and everything in between has left her frail and guarded. Our situation obviously didn’t help. I assumed over time that things would parallel each other; we would establish some sort of order. A hierarchy so to speak; communication, love, sex, safety, and trust, standard stuff to someone who grew up in a normal environment where they received and gave love.

She didn’t.

At times, she would open the door…though she’d never let me in. I would stand there until she slammed it in my face, and I would once again wait for her to open it. Each time she did, I got to see a little more of what was inside, but as soon as I stepped in, she shoved me right back out. The endless cycle was repeated.

How do you put something together when you’re missing the pieces?

You couldn’t.

But I would die trying.

A few days later and Thanksgiving was here! I had never experienced a normal Thanksgiving or ate a turkey and I wanted it to be perfect. Sebastian’s parents were due to land in a few hours and I had woken up at five AM to get everything ready. I researched different styles of turkeys and ingredients for days until I found the precise one. Sebastian said I spent a small fortune on food, but I didn’t care.

“What time is it?” he asked, coming out of the bedroom with bedhead, shirtless, and fucking adorable.

“It’s six thirty.”

“Ysa, it’s crazy early.”

“So why are you up?”

“I rolled over and you were gone. Come back to bed.”

“I can’t, I have so much to get done before your parents get here. The turkey is in the oven and it looks beautiful, if I do say so myself.”

He came up behind me, nuzzling my neck.

“Hey! Stop that,” I said, moving away.

He held me firmer. “But I’m up.”

I laughed. “I can feel that. I’m serious, stop!” I pushed out my ass, bumping him backward and ducked under his arms to turn around.

I held up the potato peeler that was in my hand.

“What are you going to do, Ysa? Scrape me to death?”

“Oh my God! Go do something, stop being so needy.” I smiled. “Or you can help me?”

“Hmmm…I’m going to go take a shower. But first…”

He was over to me in two strides, pulling me in to passionately kiss me. When his hands started trailing from my waist to my breasts, I shoved him.

“Be good! I have shit to do.”

He left to go pick up his parents around ten, and by the time they made it back, it was almost noon. I was checking the turkey when they walked in.

“And there she is…where she has been all day,” he informed, making his mom hit him in the chest. “Ow!”

“Sebastian, she has been cooking all day, you stop picking on her,” she reprimanded.

“I’m sorry, I’m still a mess. I thought I’d have enough time to shower before you guys got here. The time just got away from me.”

“Oh, honey, don’t worry about it. I completely understand. If Sebastian is anything like his father, I’m sure he has been sitting on the couch.”

I nodded and laughed, and then she slapped him again.

I went and showered, dressing in a casual maxi skirt and tank top. I opted on minimal makeup with some mascara, blush, and lipgloss.

Sebastian closed the door behind him as I was putting on my sandals.

“Mmm…you smell good, and you look so pretty,” he groaned into my ear from behind.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“I missed you today. Come here,” he whispered, turning me to grope me.

“Stop. Your parents are right outside.”

“It’s fine, my mom’s on the phone with a friend and my dad’s watching football. We have time.”

My eyes widened. “Are you insane? I am not having sex with you with your parents less than twenty feet away. Stop,” I demanded, fighting off his frisky hands.

“I don’t want to stop. Since when do you ever deny me?”

“I’m going to hurt you. Stop.”

We went at this for a few more seconds, him trying to touch me everywhere and me blocking every advance. I finally broke down and started laughing, and he took the opportunity to carry me over to the bed, lying on top of me, and caging me in.

“Shhh…I’ll be really fast. Don’t make any noise.”

“No. Stop,” I urged, moving every chance I got.

“Shhh…just let it happen.”

My stomach hurt from laughing. When he wanted in, he was getting in.

“Ysabelle,” his mom said, knocking on the door.

“Yeah?” I yelled, giving him the death look.

“I think the turkey might be ready to come out. Your timer went off while you were in the shower. Do you want me to take it out?”

“No! I’ll be right out! Get off.”

He laughed and rolled over and before I could jump up, he grabbed my face and kissed me.

“I love you. And it’s on later, Ysa.”

I rolled my eyes and went to deal with his parents while he took a few minutes to get his hard-on under control.

Unbelievable.

His mom helped me set the table and get everything in order. We nonchalantly talked about nothing in particular. She was the sweetest woman, so caring and gentle. I loved her immediately. She showed me some tricks and family secrets, as she called them, for marinating the food. She also told me about Sebastian’s favorite foods and I made a mental note.

“Sebastian, would you like to say grace?” his dad asked.

“Sure.”

He leaned over to grab my hand and everyone else followed suit. I was confused. I had never been a part of anything like that. They bowed their heads and closed their eyes and I did the same.

“Dear Lord, thank you for this food that we are about to eat. Please bless everyone at this table and our loved ones who couldn’t be here with us today. Thank you, Heavenly Father. Amen.”

We all looked up and they did this cross thing in front of them.

“I’ll start with what I’m thankful for,” his dad said. “I am thankful for my beautiful and amazing wife who I have had the honor of being married to for the last thirty-seven years. I am thankful for my son, I couldn’t have asked for a better gift. I am thankful for my career that has given me the opportunity to help people in need all around the world. Thank you, Lord, for all your blessings.”

He kissed his wife and Sebastian squeezed my hand.

His mom went next. “I am thankful for my husband, who has always provided all my needs and wants and who gave me the greatest blessing of all, which is my son. I am thankful for my grandchild and hoping for many more in the future,” she added, looking right at me and winking.

Oh man…

Sebastian followed. “I am thankful for my amazing parents who have always supported and loved me unconditionally. I am thankful to have found the love of my life, Ysabelle.” He smiled at me. “And I am thankful for my son.”

All eye

s were on me. “Umm…I am thankful for meeting such beautiful, welcoming people. I have never felt more love than I have at this table today. Thank you for letting me be a part of that.”

His mom frowned. This woman barely knew me and she was sad for me. It warmed my heart.

I locked eyes with Sebastian. “I am thankful to you. Thank you for loving me.” I blinked a few times to clear the tears that were at bay. I didn’t know what came over me, but I had the sudden urge to cry, not from sadness, but from happiness. I had never felt that before.

“I can see why my son is taken with you, Ysabelle.”

I shyly smiled at her and we all went on to eat.

The next few days we showed my parents around the island and doing tourist things. They loved Ysabelle’s bar and my mom and her seemed to be getting along great. I took my dad out offshore one morning.

“Hand me another beer, son.”

I grabbed two from the cooler and handed him one.

“So tell me about the girl?”

“Where do I start?” I laughed, sitting back on the leather fighting chair.

“Your mom really likes her; she thinks she’s good for you.”

“She is.”

“So where do you see this going? You guys talk about the future?”

“Not really. I know where I’d like things to go, though. I’d ask her to marry me tomorrow if I thought she would say yes.”

“A woman who doesn’t want to get married. They exist?”

We laughed and I nodded. “Apparently. She didn’t have the best upbringing and then how we met…that whole disaster.”

“I see.”

“Trust me, Dad, I’m not proud of what I did. I never wanted to be that man. You raised me better than that. The heart wants what it wants. You know?”

“I’m going to share something with you because I think this will help. People aren’t perfect, especially men. When you were two years old, your mother and I were having some issues. I was working seventy hours a week and she was stuck at home; her whole life changed when she got pregnant with you. It was a difficult adjustment for both of us. We worked through it, though. However, it was touch and go there for about a year. I was sleeping in the guest bedroom and there were nights I thought maybe we wouldn’t make it. We went to therapy and over time, it helped. The reason I’m telling you this is because relationships take work, even the best ones.”


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