4. Maximus
W hat the hell was I thinking?
I sent the text to Rosa—Mrs Branch—demanding that Courtney join me for dinner tonight before I even thought it through. I’ve spent the last week actively avoiding her, despite seeing her everywhere I fucking look.
I can’t even sit on my damn balcony anymore without seeing her wandering through the rose garden, looking like sin incarnate.
From the moment Marcus and Miles arrived with her, I knew I’d regret letting her stay here. She’s sweet and innocent, with those bright-blue doe eyes, cheeks that flush whenever she looks at me, and pink pouty lips that she keeps fucking biting.
Don’t even get me started on her tiny body, her perfect curves, her pert tits, or her juicy arse. She looks young, innocent, and breakable—everything I avoid in women.
I was doing a perfectly fine job of pretending she didn’t exist, until last night. When I heard a gasp and looked up, only to find her staring at me, her innocent eyes darkening as lust overtook her.
I expected her to run, but when she didn’t, I made sure to let her see my dark side in all its glory. Anya is in the middle of a punishment, but she gets off on degradation and power-play, something I’ve always been more than happy to help her with.
Recently, Anya has been demanding more from me, breaking the rules I’ve had in place since the beginning, and she’s generally just being more clingy. If she didn’t know how to deepthroat like a fucking pro, I’d have gotten rid of her weeks ago.
I meant it when I said she could be easily replaced. There are a string of women who would give anything to take her place, not to mention my other whores who’d enjoy more time with me. I don’t keep any of them around for longer than I should, and they all know this.
I watched as Courtney got more drawn in with each dirty word that left my lips. I shudder when I remember that, other than a brief glance at Anya when she first found us, Courtney’s eyes never left me or my body.
When she pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, my balls began to tingle. I should have been concerned that I was more turned on by Courtney looking at me than I was by the girl gagging on my dick, but I wasn’t.
Instead, I made sure to speak directly to her, loving the way her breath hitched in response, making me think that the sweet, innocent girl isn’t all that she seems.
She looked needy and desperate as she watched me come, and I almost pushed Anya out of the way to get to her, until I remembered all the reasons why that would have been a bad idea.
She’s thirty-two years younger than me. She’s far too innocent for the type of sex I enjoy. She’s the sister of my son’s best friend, and I’m his boss. She’s very much off-limits.
I don’t know what finally made her run from me last night, but I wasn’t as relieved as I expected to be. If anything, it made me want to chase after her, to hunt her down like the prey she is—but I didn’t.
Instead, I kicked Anya out, blocking out her shrill complaints as I told my security to never let her back in. As I climbed into bed, I tried not to think about her, but the harder I tried, the more I pictured her.
She haunted my dreams in the most perfect way, and I woke up hard, thinking about her; those shy blue eyes, her flushed cheeks, and her pouty lips.
I pictured them all as I stroked myself to completion. And still that wasn’t enough to quieten my thoughts, which is why I found myself arranging to meet her for dinner, against my better judgement.
How I’ve managed to get any work done today is a fucking miracle, as I’ve spent the whole day counting down the minutes until seven when I would see my Little Lamb again.
She’s pure and innocent, but in the eyes of a predator like me, she’s nothing except prey—which I want to capture and devour, despite all the very valid reasons why I should keep my distance. I’ve never been very good at following rules.
I dress in my usual black trousers and white shirt, opening the top two buttons when I decide against a tie and a jacket, trying to go for a slightly more casual look than normal.
I arrive at the table ten minutes early, and from the moment I take my seat, I’m sure time slows down, as I stare at the door, waiting for it to open again.
I briefly consider leaving, knowing nothing good will come from this, but still I don’t move. I haven’t really thought too far ahead, about what I hope to achieve from having this meal with Courtney, but I’m doing it anyway.
I sort of want to see how this shit-show plays out.
A soft knock pulls me out of my thoughts, and light floods into the room when the door is pushed open. Mrs Branch directs her inside, using her arm to indicate which seat she should take beside me, despite it being the only other set place at the table.
Mrs Branch doesn’t even bother to hide the fucking gleam in her eyes as she takes me in. Her gaze flicks to the candle in the middle of the table, which I had absolutely nothing to fucking do with, and then over to Courtney, before she deliberately lets me see her wide smile.
One small glance Courtney’s way tells me exactly why she looks so smug—the interfering old cow. Courtney is wearing a white sundress with embroidered daisies covering the skirt, making her look like a fucking virgin sacrifice.
As she turns to smile at Mrs Branch, I see that her long blonde hair has been curled into soft waves that fall down to the middle of her back, with a few twisted strands pulled back to create an elegant design.
She’s not wearing much makeup, but the black liner along her lash line makes her blue eyes glisten, and the blush she’s added makes her cheeks even pinker.
Her red lips are the only sultry thing about her, the colour making them appear plumper, and when she drags the lower lip between her teeth, my cock twitches.
I take a moment to appreciate the way her curves are displayed in the dress. The fabric pulls in to show off her small waist, whilst hugging her arse in just the right way. The thin straps curve over her tits, displaying just a hint of her impressive cleavage.
Then I see her hard nipples poking through the light cotton, making it clear she’s not wearing a bra, and I almost come in my boxers like a fucking teenager seeing a pair of tits for the first time.
Courtney nervously clears her throat, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other as she lingers by the door, having not listened to Mrs Branch’s instructions. That’s when I realise I’ve been staring for longer than is considered acceptable.
Normally, I’d stand, like the gentleman I am, and show her to her seat, greeting her with the manners that were instilled in me by my father.
But if I stand right now, she’ll definitely be able to see my hard length fighting to break free from my trousers, so instead, I gesture to the place setting adjacent to where I’m sitting at the head of the table .
“Courtney, thank you for agreeing to join me. Please, have a seat,” I say, remembering the manners that would make my father proud.
She looks flustered as she takes a seat, mumbling her thanks as she looks back over to Mrs Branch, clearly not sure what to do with herself. Once Courtney is seated, Mrs Branch wishes us both a pleasant evening, before exiting the room, but not before throwing me a cheeky wink that only I can see.
She’s lucky I see her as family, or I’d have fired her interfering arse a long time ago.
Courtney shuffles around, looking incredibly uncomfortable and unsure of herself, and I know I’m going to have to be the one to break the ice. “Can I get you something to drink? I have a lovely white wine that will go well with the chicken, but you’re welcome to anything you’d prefer.”
“Wine is good,” she mutters, giving me a small smile that makes her look even more beautiful.
I quickly grab my phone and send a message to the staff WhatsApp group, as it’s the fastest way to interact with the many house staff I employ. As soon as a thumbs up appears on my message, meaning someone has accepted the task, I put my phone away.
It’s not long until we have our wine, and some water for the table. As the server is leaving, he passes on a message from the chef that our entree won’t be long.
At first, the silence between us is awkward, with Courtney shuffling in her chair as she casts shy glances my way whenever she thinks I’m not looking. The quiet doesn’t bother me the way it clearly does her, so I’m not surprised when she’s the one to speak first.
“Do you have any news on my stalker?” she asks, taking a sip from her wine once she’s spoken.
I narrow my gaze at her, wondering why she’s asking me this question. “Not that I’m aware of. Why have you not asked your brother, or my son?”
She lets out a huff, rolling her eyes as she says, “Miles is far too overprotective of me, and he shuts me out ‘for my own good’.” Her sneer and the air quotes she creates with her fingers tells me she isn’t happy about this.
“You don’t like being left out.” I frame it as a statement more than a question, but she answers me anyway.
“I’m not a child, and I don’t want to be treated like one.”
I can’t help the way my eyes narrow on her, and I don’t even need to look to know they’ll have taken on a darker colour, as I’m reminded of Courtney’s age.
“You may not be a child, but you’re barely an adult. You shouldn’t get mixed up in our world any more than is necessary. You’re far too innocent for that.”
Courtney glares at me, looking very much like she’s about to argue with me, so I breathe a sigh of relief when the door opens and our server walks in, carrying our food.
As we eat, I decide to keep the discussion to more deliberately neutral topics.
I ask her trivial things about her life, about university, and about how she’s liking being at the Mansion.
I find myself craving each of her responses, no longer seeing them as trivial, as I’m desperate to learn anything and everything about Courtney Gibson.