Chapter 4



He sighed, moving closer to me slowly, as though afraid to scare me. “You were asleep, and naked. I must have stripped you in your sleep. That was so out of line of me, I kno—“ His sentence broke off as I began to touch my sex, angling my body to give him a hell of a view. His fists clenched, but he crawled a little closer, watching my hands work.

“Do you think you might have a vibrator, or maybe even a cock, that I could borrow?” I asked him archly when he just continued to watch me.

His eyes flew to mine, and they were almost panicked. “Are you sure? I don’t want to take advantage of you. Again.”

I wanted to scream, he was so exasperating. “I was eighteen, Akira, fully legal. Quit acting like you were a predator. I seduced you, if you recall.”

He gave me a stern look. “I’m ten years older, and you were barely legal, and a virgin. And your father trusted me to look after you, not to violate you. It was a bastard thing to do.”

I writhed on the bed, stroking myself shamelessly when I spoke. “I’m twenty-six now. Can we get over it already?”

I wanted him to crawl on top of me and bury himself deep, fucking me hard enough to make me forget that it was a pity fuck. He didn’t do that. Instead, he grabbed my hand, bringing my wet fingers to his mouth, and sucking them clean. My jaw went slack. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life, his eyes closing in pleasure as he tasted me. He released my limp hand, then gripped my legs open, and buried his face there. He began to suck and lick and stroke, working me hard with his tongue and teeth before he started on me with thick fingers. A sound tore from my throat, my fingers and hands rubbing again and again over his thick hair. I clutched him to me, saying his name, again and again, as he brought me to climax.


He perched his chin on my stomach, just above my pelvic bone, watching me come back down from the blissful orgasm. His eyes were gentle as he studied me. “I could do that to you all day. Again?”

I fought the sudden childish urge to yank his hair out. “I’m on the pill, and I’m quite clean. Are you so repelled at the thought of just fucking me?” I asked him, deliberately crude and goading. It was a new tactic, so maybe it would work.

He rose onto his elbows, giving me that stern, older brother look that he was so fond of. But he was still hard and quivering as he knelt on his knees between my open thighs. He opened my legs wider as he knelt there, staring down at me. “I just want to be sure that this is what you want. I don’t want to take ad—“

I interrupted that infuriating phrase of his by sitting up, gripping his hard cock in my hand. I stroked him hard, rolling until I could kneel down far enough to take him in my mouth. I sucked on him desperately, as though my life depended on it.

He tried to pull me away by the hair, but I was determined. He was moaning roughly, calling my name rather urgently, but I just kept stroking him firmly with my hand and working on him with my mouth.

“Baby, get on your back. I’m going to fuck you. Get on your fucking back,” he nearly shouted.

It got my attention, and I fell back.

He followed me down, pinning me roughly and thrusting into me with one smooth motion. I wanted to cry, it felt so good. He began to move, his strokes long and slow. His dark eyes looked into mine with an intensity that I couldn’t ignore. “You have the most amazing eyes in the world, Lana. I think I’ve missed those eyes the most.” My eyes were a deep blue that, depending on the lighting, looked almost violet. “You were this perfect, enchantingly beautiful girl that made the world brighter just by being in it, and you were ours. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I drove you away.” As he finished speaking, he bent down to kiss me, his strokes getting faster, and harder. I moaned into his mouth, and he stroked a tongue into mine. I gave it a little bite, and he groaned, one of his hands pulling my thighs higher, and wider, and ramming into me, harder and harder. He pulled his mouth free, watching me intently as he snaked a hand down my body, rubbing my clit as he rode me. I came, and he followed me, shouting my name, every muscle in his body straining as he buried himself to the hilt, rubbing his orgasm out inside of me with sexy little thrusts that went on and on.

He rolled onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes when he’d recovered. “Fuck,” he cursed.

I sat up, worried. Did he regret it, already? Couldn’t I at least get one night of pleasure before it all came crashing down again?

I stood and walked, naked, to the window. It was huge, with a perfect view of the ocean. I leaned my head against it.

“You are gonna give some lucky bastards quite the show if you plaster your body to the window like that.”

I glanced back at him, pressing a breast very deliberately against the glass. “Oops,” I said, batting my eyelashes at him in a mock innocent pose. The beach was empty at the moment, so I wasn’t worried about it.

He gave me an exasperated look. “You are as sassy as ever. Some things never change.”

I arched my back, wiggling my bum at him, just a little bit. “Do you need to spank me?”

I watched, in frozen fascination, as his semi-hard cock came to full attention again. He groaned, as though it were the most bothersome thing in the world.

It wasn’t bothersome to me.

I leaned against the window, arching my back and parting my legs. I lay my cheek against the glass as I sent him what I hoped was a sultry look. “We already had sex. Why stop at once? The damage is done, right?”

He was striding to me before I’d finished taunting him. He grabbed my hips from behind, pressing hard against me, and working himself in, inch by hard inch. He went slowly at first, making sure that I could take all of him at that angle. After he’d cleared my passage twice, he began a pounding rhythm that had me making desperate little sounds in my throat. My climax built fast. He grabbed my breasts, squeezing and kneading at them. “I’ve jerked myself off to your pictures more times than I can count,” he whispered into my ear.

That did it. I came, gasping out his name.

He jerked into me a half a dozen more times before he reached his own climax, clutching at my breasts and biting my neck almost roughly. I loved the rawness of it.

He pulled me into bed with him after that, cuddling against me. I hadn’t forgotten how sweet he could be. The memories still haunted me. Often.

“Did you really masturbate to my pictures, or were you just saying that?” I asked him, looking up to see his eyes.

He looked down at me, where I cuddled in my little spot on his chest, his expression baffled. “Why the hell would I just say that? It’s perverted and nasty, not to mention embarrassing. I felt like I needed to get it off my chest. And it’s not ‘did’, it’s ‘do’. When I jerk off to a picture, I guarantee it’s yours.”

I laughed, loving the disgruntled look on his face. “Prove it. I haven’t modeled in years. Where would you even get my picture?”

He gave me a pointed look, pushing me gently from his chest. He rolled to the side of the bed, reaching underneath it to pull out a rather beat-up issue of Sports Illustrated. Sure enough, I was on the cover. “Exhibit A,” he muttered. It was the most high profile modeling job I’d ever done, my fifteen minutes of fame, posing in a tiny yellow bikini and straddling a surfboard on the coveted cover spot. I’d walked away from the business after that job, feeling a strange but overwhelming need, at the time, to reconnect with my family, and the family business. Modeling just hadn’t been for me, and I’d burned out on it quickly.

I smiled at Akira. “You know I don’t mind. You can use my pictures in any filthy way you want to, you pervert.”

He flushed, and I laughed. I enjoyed tormenting him. I always had. For years and years, it had been my favorite hobby.

“It drives me crazy sometimes, thinking about how many other men are doing exactly the same thing.”

I just shrugged, not really concerned about anyone else so much as him. He had always been the only one I cared about, the only one I saw or concerned myself with. It was the joke of my pathetic life that he didn’t feel even remotely the same way about me.

“What else? Is there an exhibit B? What other pictures do you have of me that you like to do filthy things to?” I asked.

He glared, but walked to his computer. “Observe. Exhibit B. See my browsing history?” He clicked on it, and another bikini shot of me popped up. This one was more scandalous. It had been taken when I was surfing, some discarded shot from a photo shoot, maybe. But someone had leaked it. I was straddling the surfboard, looking intently at the waves, one of my nipples showing clearly due to a wardrobe malfunction.

I laughed. I hadn’t even known that was out there. “I’ve never seen that one.”

“I made the mistake of reading the comments under it once. It was the angriest jerk-off session of my life.”

I laughed, feeling positively giddy at the thought of him wanting me that much, enough to search me online to see a picture of me.

We were both still naked. Neither of us had even thought to cover up as we looked at the computer. He sat in his computer chair, just staring at me, dumbstruck. His gaze ran up and down my body hungrily, but he was still so hesitant to touch me. My hands skimmed along my naked torso. “Which do you prefer, the photo-shopped pictures, or the real thing?” I asked, cupping my breasts as I finished.

He swallowed hard, looking up into my eyes. “It’s like you have no clue how far out of my league you are. Guys like me don’t get girls like you. You know that, right? You’re a filthy rich supermodel, who also happens to be the daughter of my mentor, the man I respect more than anyone else in the world. I’ve never even met my own father; I’ve had my share of run-ins with the law, on several occasions, in fact, when I was a stupid, violent teenager. I still struggle to keep my fists to myself with the wrong provocation. I almost punched a guy in the bar just last week for talking about those damned pictures my mom won’t take down. I’m not good enough for you.”

I just listened to him as he dissed himself, wanting to punch him, but wanting to hear where he was going with his tirade even more.

I sat on his lap, or rather, I straddled him, naked. It was a mistake. He closed up like a clam after that, looking at my body, his eyes so hungry and tender.

It undid me, such a harsh looking man with such tender eyes for me. When I was certain he didn’t have any more to say, I leaned in and began to kiss him, a hungry, passionate kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck, rubbing against him like a cat. I assumed he couldn’t go for another round, but I just wanted that raw, naked contact with him. I was more than delighted when I felt him growing hard again against me. I shifted against him, instinctively trying to impale myself on the stiffening length.

He pulled back with a rough groan. “I’m not fucking you again until I’ve at least fed you. I’ll feel like a complete jerk if you pass out from hunger.”

“After,” I murmured, rubbing against him.

He let me, watching me as though mesmerized.

“Just pretend I’m a picture of me, and that my vagina is your hand.”


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