Chapter 8
8
Karl
A insley’s relaxing on the sofa, clad only in a thin silk robe. Her curves are still damp, that ivory skin sheened in a mixture of sweat and her own fragrance. I can’t resist. I’m a total asshole and walk over to her before opening her robe to look down at her creamy form. Those big breasts bobble, and Ainsley even giggles a bit while parting her legs.
“Do you like what you see, Daddy?” she coos. “Does this make you happy?”
I take in those soft thighs and narrow waist, as well as her swollen pussy. Fuck, she’s been fucked so much in the past few hours that the girl shouldn’t even be able to sit upright. But Ainsley is smiling at me, and I decide to go for it.
One big finger reaches down to her swollen, ravaged pussy before gently tracing over her slippery clit. Then, I push the bit of semen edging out from her cunt back in, loving the fact that my seed is literally leaking out of this girl.
“Oooh, that feels good, Daddy,” she murmurs, batting her lashes coquettishly at me. “Do you have more for me?” she asks, one small hand going up to grab my hardening cock.
“I have more than enough for your horny pussy, sweetheart,” I growl before striding to the table and coming back with a plate full of pancakes. “But let’s eat first because I want you to have energy. You must be depleted after getting fucked like that, and I don’t want a rag doll in bed.”
Ainsley giggles, tossing her red mane of hair back.
“I’m not a rag doll! I was with you every step of the way!”
I go silent for a moment because it’s true. It was this sweet girl’s first time, and yet she accommodated my massive dick without complaint. She took it in herself again and again, letting me pummel her tiny hole as she smiled sweetly at me, breasts bobbling with every hard pound. I hang my head with shame.
“You’ve done more than enough, sweetheart. You deserve some peace.”
Immediately, Ainsley’s up and sitting in my lap, her small arms wrapped around my neck and those delicate features only inches away.
“No, but I liked it, Karl. I loved it. I want you to touch me like that, and it doesn’t matter that you’re my bodyguard. In fact, this is the best way you could guard my body, don’t you think? If you’re in bed with me, who’s going to hurt me now?”
I stare at her innocent features, so delicate and soft. A big hand goes up the steep curve of her back, caressing her sinuous form.
“I know, sweetheart, but this isn’t what your brother envisioned—”
The redhead rolls her eyes.
“Don’t even get me started on Patrick,” she says in a droll tone. “Besides, he’s not exactly a saint himself. You know he won his wife in a bet, right?”
I stare at my sassy temptress.
“What? Really?”
She nods.
“Yeah, my sister in law was desperate for money. Ashley came to Vegas to be a ballerina, but then her ballet company went kaput, so she needed cash. She sold her body to Patrick, and I think he even had her chained up in his bedroom for a while.”
I stare at her.
“No fucking way.”
“Yes way,” my beautiful redhead says in a playful voice. “So don’t blame yourself, Karl, because the man who hired you isn’t exactly the Pope. In fact, my brother is a fucking asshole, so we shouldn’t listen to what he says.”
Still, I feel guilty and drop my gaze as my hand continues to rub circles on her back. Ainsley senses my hesitation and lifts my chin with one small finger before staring into my eyes.
“What is it?” she whispers. “No regrets, Karl.”
“But it was your first time—” I begin.
“And I loved it,” she finishes before leaning forwards to kiss me. “You took me the way a man takes a woman. Hard. Possessive. Relentless. I loved every second, and I want to do it again. And again. And again.”
That makes me stare at her for a moment.
“Are you on birth control?” I ask in a low voice.
She shakes her head, cheeks flushing.
“No, and we didn’t use a condom. But I’ll call the concierge and see if they have Plan B on site. It’s fine. Even if they don’t, we can go to the drugstore and get it. It’s over the counter now, so it’s no big deal.”
I stare at her plush lips before circling up to meet her gaze.
“It’s a very big deal, sweetheart. I might have impregnated you already.”
Ainsley blushes, and is it my imagination, but do her green eyes sparkle a bit? She merely smiles at me.
“Would that be so bad, Karl?” she purrs, trailing one finger down my chiseled chest. “A baby, I mean?”
My jaw drops.
“Sweetheart, you’re what? Eighteen? Nineteen?”
“I’m twenty-three,” she murmurs with another slight smile on her lips. “Old enough to be a mother.”
My mind rushes with all sorts of thoughts because this is not the way I envisioned this conversation going.
“We just met,” I say in a low growl. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Ainsley merely shrugs before reaching for a croissant and biting into it with a satisfying crackle.
“I know you’re hot, gorgeous, and will do anything to protect me. I know my brother hired you, which means you went through an extensive background check because Patrick would never send just anyone to guard his sister. So you can’t be a criminal.”
My brows lower.
“The shit I want to do to you is positively criminal,” I rasp. “You’d be surprised, baby girl.”
“Then surprise me,” Ainsley says with a sweet smile. “I love surprises.”
Holy fuck, now I really understand what Patrick O’Lachlan said when he dubbed his sister a hellcat. Ainsley is more than a handful. She’s a fucking supernova, and yet I love it. She completely blows other women I’ve dated out of the water, and they’re nothing more than a faint memory at this point. Reading my thoughts, the sassy redhead wraps an arm around my neck again while taking another satisfying bite of croissant.
“So tell me about you, Mr. Andersen,” she invites. “How did you come to work for my brother?”
I reach for my coffee, careful not to spill the hot liquid.
“Well, I’m Swedish and I was with the Swedish Army for most of my career. I retired a couple years ago and went out on my own. First, as a mercenary and then in private security.”
“A mercenary?” Ainsley chokes, her eyes wide. “You went to fight other peoples’ wars?”
“I did,” I say in a low voice. “I’ve fought in all sorts of hellish locations, from Kosovo to Pyongyang to Ukraine. It’s fucking sad, honestly, how much people hate each other, and how they’re willing to kill each other over practically nothing. But the money’s good, and the foreign legion was a natural fit for me. It’s not like I have other skills.”
Ainsley stares at me some more, her glossy lips parted.
“Okay, so what made you leave?”
I shrug.
“It’s not all about the money. I have more than enough to last a lifetime, and I was getting sick of the fact that a lot of these countries have no clue what they’re doing. They have little to no training for their soldiers, no armaments, shitty supply chains, and shitty food on top of everything else. I was out in the field with a bunch of high schoolers who were bawling and crying for their mommies. It fucking sucked being a babysitter one moment, and then sacrificing these boys on the field of battle the next.”
Ainsley’s completely stopped eating now, her green eyes cautious as she stares at me.
“So it was tough.”
I laugh hoarsely.
“You can say that again. So I left, and when this job came up, I took it. Your brother made it sound like it’d be a jaunt. Sure, you’re a handful, but a sassy hellcat is something I can manage. There’s food, sun, a hotel room ... hell, this is cakewalk compared to where I’ve been.”
“I can imagine,” Ainsley says thoughtfully. “After years of being on the frontlines, Vegas must seem like a joke to you.”
“It is,” I acknowledge in a deep voice, “but it’s nice to get away from reality for a little. War grinds you down, you know? It’s sheer boredom ninety-nine percent of the time, but then the one percent is a firefight. That’s when you lose your life, and those of your men too.”
Ainsley’s still in my lap, her croissant on her plate as she contemplates my words. Then she looks up, that emerald gaze emotive.
“Thank you for being honest with me, Karl,” she murmurs. “About what you saw, and what you experienced. It gives me a lot of context, and helps me understand who you are.”
I pull her curvy form close before inhaling her sweet scent.
“This is pure Heaven compared to where I’ve been, sweetheart. A beautiful woman in my lap, warm food to eat, and a plush hotel room were merely fantasies when I was lying in a cold, dark trench. Hell, if we wanted to take a nap right now, we could. You don’t get that when you’re at war. Sometimes you’re up for seventy-six hours straight, with bloodshot eyes while popping amphetamines to stay alert.”
“Amphetamines?” she whispers, eyes wide. “Oh my god, you guys were doing drugs?”
“Under the table,” I nod. “Governments never condone actual drugs. But yeah, that shit is fed to soldiers to help us perform. Every country does it, including the great old U.S. of A.”
Ainsley shakes her head again.
“Goodness,” she murmurs. “I had no idea.”
I pull her curvy form closer.
“War fucking sucks. The life of a soldier isn’t for everyone, but enough depressing shit. What about you, sweetheart? What brings you to Vegas?”
She blinks a little, trying to adjust to the change in conversation. But then a small smile crosses her lips.
“Well, I’m here to further my career as a plus-size model,” she says. “I started out in Ireland, but there isn’t much of an industry there. And Paris, Milan and New York are for straight size girls. The plus-size industry is here, in the City of Sin, so I flew in to see what could happen.”
I nod.
“And how’s it going?”
She sighs a bit, pushing some fruit around on a plate.
“It’s going,” she acknowledges. “Of course, I’ve been rejected far more than I’d like. But you were at the La Bianca show, so I’ve been cast here and there. And of course, I met Justin West,” she mutters, looking down. “He’s been helpful.”
I nod thoughtfully.
“So what’s the story with him?”
“Well, he’s not my boyfriend,” Ainsley says immediately, shooting me a swift look. “I know it looks like it on the outside, but Justin’s never actually touched me. We don’t have sex,” she states. “We don’t even sleep in the same bed.”
I chuckle, gently palming a big breast.
“Yeah, I gathered that,” I say in a dry tone. “I’m the one who popped your cherry, sweetheart. It’s obvious that he’s not enough of a man to do the honors.”
Ainsley bites her lip while looking down.
“Yeah, I know,” she says in a soft voice. “At first, I wondered if there was something wrong with me. I mean, don’t most men make love to their girlfriends?”
“Sweetheart, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you,” I state in a low growl, lifting her small chin to stare into her eyes. “You are one hundred percent desirable, very female, and utterly lush and wet. No man can resist you.”
Ainsley colors and nods again before smiling.
“Thanks Karl,” she murmurs. “I appreciate the reassurance. But I did go through a whole confused phase when I realized Justin wasn’t into sex. I wasn’t upset. I just couldn’t figure it out, and even went to see a therapist to talk it through. But the funny thing is that eventually, I came around. My feelings weren’t hurt by his lack of desire, nor was I offended by his choice either. Heck, I realized that I didn’t want to sleep with him .”
“Okay,” I nod. “So why are you fake dating a fake boyfriend?”
Ainsley shoots me a sassy grin.
“Well, this is a little Machiavellian, but I realized that I could further my career if I posed as Justin West’s girlfriend. He is a famous rapper,” she says. “He knows a lot of people in the fashion and entertainment industries, and I get a lot of press just from accompanying him to events. So you see, my brother doesn’t have to worry,” she says with a playful smile. “Justin doesn’t even touch me! I’m safe!”
I nod.
“Yeah, but I don’t think your brother’s worried about what you do between the sheets,” I say in a careful tone. “I think Patrick’s more worried about how Justin behaves. Your fake boyfriend seems—”
“Controlling?” Ainsley finishes for me, one delicate brow arched.
“You said it,” I growl deep in my chest. “He makes you show up at public events stark naked. What the fuck? Who does that?”
“I know,” Ainsley acknowledges, pausing temporarily to pop a strawberry into her mouth. I’m temporarily mesmerized, watching her chew the red fruit, her lips so plush and glossy. “But Justin genuinely is a PR genius, and he knows how to manipulate the media. You know his brand, Prowler, did over a billion dollars of business last year with Adirite. So he’s experienced, and knows how to get eyes on his product.”
“Yeah, but it looks like you’re his product, sweetheart,” I say in a dry tone. “Except you’re not a pair of kicks, or a sweatshirt, or hoodie, or any type of shoe. You’re a woman, and your brother had a bad feeling, seeing you on Justin’s arm. You looked like a doll, sweetheart,” I add in a low voice. “A beautiful one, but also one whose personality had been drained. You were seriously beginning to resemble a drugged-out robot, and Patrick is worried.”
“I know,” Ainsley says in a soft voice, looking down. “I didn’t want to wear those dresses either. Trust me, I don’t like showing off my tits and ass to everyone in the world and their mother. It was downright embarrassing, and I guess the blank stare was my way of disassociating. I was pretending I wasn’t there, and that it was happening to another girl.”
“What the fuck?” I growl. “What the fuckity fuck? That fucker is manipulating you. I’m going to kick his ass.”
Ainsley sighs a bit, going limp in my arms.
“Thanks Karl, I know this is disappointing to hear,” she says in a low voice. “Women these days are taught to be independent and fierce, and I totally flopped. Truth be told, I wanted to wear something normal to the La Bianca after party. You saw the swimwear. The bikinis are tropical and flirty, so I wanted something fun and colorful in homage. But Justin was just so insistent. He wouldn’t let me wear the dress I’d picked out, saying that it made me look like Carmen Miranda—”
“Carmen Miranda doesn’t have red hair,” I rasp.
“Yeah, I know,” Ainsley replies with a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “But there you go. He whipped out the naked dress, and I ended up baring it all in front of the cameras. Again, I was disassociating.”
I shake my head.
“What a fucking dipshit.”
Ainsley sighs again.
“I know, but Justin did his job. He knows how to attract eyeballs, and we were featured on a lot of websites afterwards. Me and my tits and cunt, at least.”
I stare at her.
“Break up with this asshole. You’re not even really dating him.”
Ainsley nods, her look downcast.
“I know. We’re not a real couple. It’s just an image he wants to project to the world, and you’re right. I can’t keep up the charade because he’s controlling me, and I fucking hate it. I’m going to do it.”
I circle her wasp waist with my big hands, staring into those emerald eyes.
“You better,” I rasp. “Because you belong to me, Ainsley, and no other man is going to touch you from here on out. You’re mine .”
Then, our lips meet as the curvy girl melts into my arms again, mewling her pleasure. After all, Justin West is full of shit and a bully to boot. He made my woman bare her tits and cunt for the world to see, but that’s not going to happen anymore. This particular set of tits and ass belong to me .... and me only.