Darius
IT’S ONLY BEEN a few days, but seems so much longer. She’s sweet and unpretentious, a breath of
fresh air to me. My little Katie Kat. Throughout dinner, I made her squirm like crazy until dessert, at
which point I finally pushed the button on her device without stopping and she climaxed right there,
stuffing a napkin in her mouth and dropping her head so no one would notice the pleasure that rippled
through her.
I finish a glass of wine and give her an approving look. “Glad you liked the cake so much,
sweetheart.”
She flushes pinker.
“It’s...orgasmic,” she says with a giggle.
Adorable.
I take her upstairs and hold her close to me, my mind spinning with the ways I can keep her.
Keep her.
I’m not a man who gives up what he wants easily. And I want this woman.
We get ready for bed, quietly preparing for the night, and I realize...this is something I could get used
to. She gives me a shy look when she slides under the covers, and before long, she’s spread out for
me, her knees cocked up, her fingers in my hair, while I eat her pussy until she screams my name.
“Daddy,” she moans. “Oh my God...”
She’s still coming when I lift her up and arrange her face down on the bed, just before I plunge into
her and lose my fucking mind.
How did I get so lucky? How did I find a woman so responsive, so winsome?
And why does this have to be something I can’t have?
She curls up in my arms, and I wake with her cheek pressed to my chest.
I inhale, breathing her in as if she could cleanse me. I exhale with reluctance. I wish I could savor her
fragrance a bit more. I wish I could savor all of her.
Today, it’s time for us to shop. Dread pools in my stomach when I look at my calendar. We leave in a
few days for Peach Orchard, the little farming town I grew up in. Gran will be waiting. I’ve hinted I
was bringing someone, only to appease her, but now I regret it.
What will Gran think when we’re no longer together?
But that’s of no concern now. I’ll deal with that as it comes. The better question is... how do I entice
Katie into staying? How do I convince her not to go?
I can’t even entertain such a thought, and yet... it’s the one I keep circling back to.
I hold her to my chest, her soft, blonde, fragrant curls tickling me.
We’re from two such very different walks of life. I hardly know her. My business is too intense for
anything even resembling family life. And would she even want a guy like me?
I shove the doubts away as she stirs.
“Katie Kat,” I tease, tapping the very tip of her nose. “Is my kitten going to get up?”
Her eyes fly open, and she looks up to me with wide eyes.
She grins. “Wow, I slept like a rock.”
I feel my lips curl upward in a smirk. “Would the four orgasms and three glasses of expensive wine
have anything to do with that?”
She smiles and shakes her head. “Nah. Not at all.”
I give her a teasing smack to the ass.
She rolls over and snuggles right in.
“Are you purring, little kitten?”
She makes a low humming noise of contentment. I let my hand travel chastely over her shoulder.
Nope, not gonna grab her ass or touch those full, perfect breasts of hers with those pert nipples... the
woman deserves a moment of non-sexual intimacy.
But those nipples, though...
Those breasts...
Her heart beats rapidly when I weigh her breast in my hand and drag my thumb over her nipple. She
gasps a breath when I pinch her nipple between my fingers, and seconds later, we’re tangled in each
other’s arms, she’s panting my name, and I’m thrusting into her while I pin her wrists to the
headboard.
“We’re never gonna get anything done,” she says with a sex-sated grin, her eyes half-lidded and
cheeks flushed after she came so hard I thought she’d go hoarse.
“Might have to sleep on the couch if you keep tempting me like that. Daddy may need to punish you.” I
kiss her cheek and nibble her earlobe.
“You’re the one who—ooooh.” She moans when I drag my tongue down her neck and suckle her skin.
Jesus, I’ve got to get a grip.
“Alright, kitten. Time for us to get up. We’ll get breakfast downstairs today, because you’re meeting
with a consultant of mine while I finish some work before I leave.”
“Oh?” she asks, then sighs, but she’s intrigued. Her brow furrows adorably. “What kind of
consultant.”
“Clothing.”
“Oh,” she repeats, this time not looking anywhere near as excited about the prospect of shopping for
clothes.
“Don’t look so happy,” I tease. “I know how hard it is to go shopping and buy anything you want with
an expert and an unlimited budget.”
“But it is!” she insists. “Really and truly. You don’t understand if you’re not a woman.”
“I’m confident this is accurate,” I say with a chuckle. I bend and kiss the top of her head. “Tell me,
Katie. What was it like when you were a child? Did you have any brothers or sisters? Live locally?”
I hold her to me, as if somehow doing that will ward off the inevitable fact that she isn’t here to stay. I
have to remember that this is only temporary.
She looks away. Her hand waves through the air as if to dismiss the emotions that come with talking
about herself. She can wave all she wants to, but I see the pain etched in her face. “I... ah. I was alone
a lot. You know the whole, ‘single mom trying to make ends meet’ gig? Well, that was my mom. I
know she did the best she could but...”
Her words trail off and all I want to do is kiss the sadness from her mouth. Make her feel loved and
wanted, the way she deserves to be.
But I’m only a fun fling to her, right? The rich guy showing her a good time for a few days, then she’ll
be back to her life, and me to mine.
She doesn’t want to talk any more about the past, but I suddenly feel a deep need to know her better,
to know everything about her. I ask about the present.
But that seems to make her sad too.
“Oh,” she says vaguely. “I’m a writer.”
I’m surprised by her answer. I don’t know that I’ve ever met an author before. “A writer? Fascinating.
Tell me more.”
She laughs easily, but she’s hiding something. I can tell by the way she looks away. Is she
embarrassed about being a writer? “Not as fascinating as it sounds, I promise. I was just a little girl
with an overactive imagination, and it led to me being an okay storyteller—at least one that could
make enough to pay the bills.” She stretches, yawning almost as if from stress. “Now your turn.”
I want to know more about her career, what she writes, but talking about it didn’t bring a smile to her
face, and all I want for her is happiness, so I choose not to press for more information. Not now, at
least. “My turn?”
“Mhm. I should know at least a little bit about you if I’m going to be pretending to be your girlfriend,
no?” She gives me a teasing wink.
“Ah, suppose that’s a fair point.” I hold her close for a moment, just enjoying the way her heart beats
against my chest, the way her naked skin lays against mine.
I shrug. “Pretty good childhood, I guess. I grew up in a small town in Georgia, was raised by my
Gran.” I don’t offer much more at this point. We aren’t a real couple; we aren’t in this long-term. She
doesn’t know about the accident that took half of my family from me.
“Ah,” she says with a nod. “The one we’re going to visit?”
I smile. “The very same.”
“You? From a small town? I can’t imagine.”
“That I’ve ever been away from the bright lights of Vegas? I understand.”
She smiles and rolls her eyes. “I didn’t mean that. Just that... well, you look so natural here. Like you
belong.”
Have I really felt like I belonged since I left my home? I move on as if she didn’t just say that.
“I worked hard in school. Studied, graduated top of my class, went to Notre Dame on a full football
scholarship.”
She sits up and smacks my chest. “No way!”
I can’t help but chuckle, even as I grab her wrist and hold it so she doesn’t do that again. “Be a good
girl,” I warn.
She smiles up at me. “Yes, daddy.”
“I swear you do that just so I get stern with you.”
She shrugs a shoulder and doesn’t deny it. I shake my head. So cute.
“So I played college football and studied business, but I sustained an injury my senior year...” my
voice trails off, as the pain of that memory surfaces. I thought I’d made peace with the trajectory of
my life, with how things turned out differently than I planned. But somehow, talking to her, I guess that
I haven’t.
“What kind of injury?” she asks, concern written across her features as her brows draw together.
“Severely broken leg, in several places. Sidelined me for the entire season. Others went on to be
drafted to play professionally, but I never recovered. By the time I was better, I’d gotten an interim
position managing this string of hotels here in Vegas, and I couldn’t resist.”
“Resist what?” she asks.
I like how direct she is, even if I don’t want to answer the question directly.
“Something new. A chance to still succeed, even when the plans I had to do just that fell short.” I grin
and give her a teasing smack to the rear. “Now enough about me. Today’s about you and all your
shopping fantasies come true.”
She snorts. “You mean you’re going to find me a bra that makes my boobs look better, jeans that make
my waist look slimmer, and shoes that are sexy as hell and don’t pinch my toes?”
“Consider it done.”
“Well then, Mr. Morrow,” she says, in that soft, sexy purr of hers that makes me melt. “You’re magic
at more than granting a girl orgasms.”
“Is that right?” I ask. I roll her over on her back and pin her arms above her head, capturing her wrists
between my fingers. I kiss my way down her neck until her head falls back on the pillow and she
emits a low, sexy groan. Within minutes, I’m hard as granite, gliding between her folds and rocking
my hips until her screams of ecstasy spur on my own.
I love the tight feel of her sweet pussy wrapped around my cock, her wrists pushing against my grip
as I hold her. When we’ve chased our pleasure, I lead her to the shower, where she gets me
impossibly harder again as she lathers me up. I bend her over and take her from behind and give her
ass a good, hard slap.
“What was that for?” she says, grinning.
“For making us late,” I explain with another hard smack. She squeals, but she loves it.
She’s perfect for me. So fucking perfect.
I shake my head. I can’t entertain thoughts like that. We have a purpose and one purpose only, and I
can’t let anyone or anything get in our way.
I leave her with my attendant while I go to a meeting, and don’t miss the way her lower lip sticks out
in a silent pout. Her eyes plead with me.
“Be a good girl,” I tell her. “Get some clothes you want to take with you on our trip, and if you
behave yourself, I’ll take you to lunch. Sound good?”
She takes in a deep breath, lifts her head, and nods. “Sounds great.”
Three times, I lose my focus during the meeting, just wondering where she is now and what she’s
buying. Twice my secretary has to give me a little nudge under the table because I missed a direct
question aimed at me.
My phone buzzes, and I glance discreetly at it, and barely stifle a groan when I see the text. Katie,
wearing a little red negligee that barely covers her tits and ass, and the caption, Suitable to bring to
grandma’s?
I’m done with this meeting.
“Thank you for your time, gentlemen,” I say abruptly. “Submit your proposals and my consultants will
respond to you within three business days.”
“Mr. Morrow, we have one more—”
Not today they don’t.
“No more time today, thank you,” I say, rising to my feet and opening the door. I wait until they leave,
and I shoot her a quick text.
You are in so much trouble for that. I was in the middle of a meeting when that text came in.
A moment later, I get her reply. It’s an emoji with a halo. An angel. Who, me?
I roll my eyes. Yes, you, young lady. I want you wearing exactly that and waiting for me in position,
bent over the couch with your hands flat down and your ass in the air for daddy when I come
upstairs.
I will turn her over my knee for that, and happily. I’m not really disappointed, of course. I love it
when she teases me like this, and she loves it when I spank her, so one could say it’s a win-win
situation.
Five minutes later, she’s bent over the couch, her ass matches the bright red silk of the negligee I
made her wear, and she’s spreading her legs for my cock.
I impale her in one swift motion, making her scream and keen with pleasure.
“Have you learned your lesson?” I grate in her ear, fisting her hair between my fingers.
“Yes, daddy,” she pants, rocking against me so we glide together in a perfect rhythm.
“Will you taunt me again, little Katie Kat?”
She moans and grinds against me. I reach forward, stroke her clit, and circle the bundle of nerves
while I thrust in and out.
“Y-yes, daddy,” she says as she comes so hard her pussy squeezes my cock.
I come on the heels of her orgasm, hard and fast, until we’re both panting from exhaustion. I admire
my handprints on her ass and give her an appreciative squeeze.
“Of course you will,” I say with a chuckle. “If you’d said you were going to behave, I’d have to
punish you again for lying.”
We clean up, and I make her show me what she bought for the trip.
“It’s so much, Darius,” she says with a grimace. “Too much. I think I should—”
“Show me.” I lean back in a leather chair in my living room, cross one ankle over my knee, and hold
her with my gaze. She sighs, so clearly not accustomed to being able to buy just whatever she wants.
“It’s so expensive here,” she says.
I nod. “You’re worth it.”
She flushes and whispers, “Thank you.”
And she gives me a fashion show for the fucking books. Holding my gaze, she peels off her clothing,
and shimmies into a pretty white-laced thong with a matching bra, then slides a gorgeous lilac
sundress on.
“Beautiful, baby. I love it.”
She smiles and grows more confident as she dresses, choosing next a pair of slim-fitting jeans and a
soft pink top, a little pencil skirt with a lacy tank top, a few more dresses, and a swimsuit that makes
me want to take her on a beach vacation, right here, right now.
“These are amazing,” she says, gesturing to the pile of clothes on the bed. “Are you sure it’s not...”
her voice trails off.
“Too much money?” My voice is hard, challenging her to ask me this again. She flushes.
“I’m not going to say it,” she says.
I smile. “Good girl. All I want to hear you say is ‘thank you, daddy.’”
She walks over to me, climbs on my lap, and nestles her head on my chest. “Thank you, daddy.”
I want to keep her here and hold her, spoil her, get to know everything about her slowly, the way two
lovers should. But I can’t. Our days together are numbered, and I’m bringing her home.