"Really?" I reply, incredulous.
Rubio peers over the rims of his expensive-looking sunglasses, flashing me a no-nonsense look. Then his gaze wanders down my body, eye-fucking every inch of me. It makes me feel kind of funny. Part of me enjoys the attention, but part of me wishes I had thought to wear something a little less revealing than my bikini top and pink gym shorts.
"You better get that round little ass in gear," Rubio smirks and repositions the conspicuous bulge in his pants, the blows an air kiss in my direction.
I blush. I don't usually think of myself as having a round little ass that could make a dick hard just by looking at it. But I know Rubio is making a serious demand. Nobody keeps Beast waiting.
Following Rubio out my bedroom door, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My long, brown hair is all tangled and damp from my morning swim in the ocean. My nose is peeling from sunburn, but the rest of my petite figure is nicely tanned, at least.
I trail Rubio down the long hallway to the elevator, and up to the fourth floor, which is normally off limits to me. In the entire time I have lived in my stepfather's villa, I have only stepped foot on the fourth level a handful of times. Rubio leads me down the hall, to my stepfather's office. He opens the door, then stands there. I'm confused for a second, but he places a hand in the small of my back and firmly guides me through, then shuts the door behind me, leaving me in the shadowy, cavernous office with Beast. I try not to tremble. I don't want him to notice my fear.
My stepfather's hulking body sits behind his mahogany desk. I see his bald head and scarred face. He's wearing a dark business suit and a silky blue tie, but it hangs loosely around his neck, the top buttons of his collared shirt left undone.
"You wanted to see me, Daddy?" I ask.
"Sit down," he growls.
I comply, sliding into one of two leather chair placed before his desk. He rocks back in his own chair, drawing out the silence, his body looming above my own.
"Before your mother died, I made a promise to her. That I would provide for you. Give you a home, a place to grow up in. As you know, I'm a man of my word, and I keep my promises. I kept this one, as well. You were given everything. Now that you're eighteen, I am no longer bound to my promise."
I'm puzzled and unsure how to respond. I don't quite believe what he's telling me. "Daddy," I ask, my voice shaking, "are you kicking me out?"
"Your college will be paid in full," my stepfather coolly replies. "You will no longer live in my home, under my roof. Unless."
My stepfather pauses. He frowns as his dark brown eyes drill into me. Under the power of his gaze, I feel like I'm melting into my seat.
"Unless," he continues, "you will become my wife and bear my children. Then all of my billions will be yours as well."
My eyes widen in absolute shock. My mouth probably falls widen open, but I'm too stunned to notice. First the surprise announcement that I will be given one million dollars. Then the devastating second option. Marry him? I could never. My brain goes so foggy, I have no idea how much time passes. Probably a few minutes.
"You will make a decision and tell me in the morning," my stepfather says.
He picks up his phone. Everything is a blur, and I barely notice. A minute later, Rubio has entered the office. He helps me to my feet and escorts me back to my room. He shuts the door, and I lie down on my bed, too dazed to say or do anything else.
III.
I'll take the college money and enroll in some university on the opposite side of the planet. That's what I'll do. I'll grab whatever cash I can, and run far, far away-as far as I can get from Beast and his four-story villa and the beach and my friends and the only life I have ever known.
///
With my eyes closed, I can picture my stepfather's horrendous face. If I was his wife … ugh! Would he expect me to perform wifely duties? There is no way I could kiss a scarred mouth like that. And sex? With that monster? His enormous cock pumping me full of creamy white monster juice?
No thanks. I'll take the college fund and be on my way.
What would it even be like, I wonder? Being with Beast, I mean. I've never had sex before, but I know the general idea. If I kept my eyes closed, or he took me from behind, I wonder if I would be able to make it through to his orgasm without throwing up. Or feeling like I had violated the memory of my dead mother, for that matter.
As I lie in my own bed, alone with the door shut, I imagine his big rough hands on my little body. He wouldn't be gentle. He'd tear off my bikini top and pull down my shorts, and brutalize my virgin pussy, stuffing me, stretching me to the breaking point. As my mind wanders, so does my hand, to that special place between my legs. It's like my fingers have minds of their own. I don't even realize they have begun to caress my swollen mound, sliding under the band of my gym shorts, feeling the outer lips of my pussy still trapped in my bikini bottom.
In my fantasy, Beast bends me over and shoves my face into my own pillow. In real life I quietly moan as my fingers pleasure me, under my bikini now, caressing the sensitive little bump of my tightening clit. I can feel myself becoming wetter and I rub harder, faster, my fingers searching between my folds, as my body rocks and trembles as waves of pleasure emanate from between my legs.
Oh my God. I'm about to come. My breath quivers and the orgasm explodes through my enraptured body. The second one is on its way …
Knock! Knock! "Sofi! I'm coming in!" It's Rubio's voice. I frantically pull my slick fingers out of my shorts, trying to ignore my throbbing wet pussy as Rubio storms into my bedroom. He gives me a funny look.
"What were you doing?" he asks.
"Minding my own business," I reply.
"Whatever. I'm just here to let you know that you're having dinner with Beast tonight. Banquet room. 7 p.m. Don't be late. And Sofia?"
Rubio smirks, eye-fucking my body like he did earlier in the day.
"Yeah, what?" I ask, rising anger in my voice.
"Better change out of that bikini," he smirks.
Rubio laughs and shuts the door, leaving me to get ready. I hit the shower, washing the gritty beach sand from my long hair, my pussy still sensitive from the attention I gave it a few minutes earlier. I want to touch myself again, but there's no time. After my shower I fret over my wardrobe, trying on several things before settling on a simple white sundress. I like the way it accentuates my petite figure while managing to make my perky little boobs to look bigger than they have any right to. I should wear heels, too, but I'm a beach bum. Flip flops will have to suffice.
Beast is waiting for me, alone, when I walk through the double doors of our banquet hall on the ground level of the villa. Every time I step foot in this place it takes my breath away. The slap of my flip flops echoes across the cavernous room. Exquisite murals hang on the rich wooden walls. A long table big enough to seat a hundred of Beast's closest associates stretches down the middle of the room. A long row of tall candles flicker in a glowing line down the center of the table. Beast is sitting at his usual seat, the head. I walk toward my usual place at the foot of the table, but Beast raises one finger and points it toward the seat next to his. A place has been set for me there. I gulp away my trepidation and will myself to walk toward him.
"Sit," he says, pushing my chair away from the table so I may comply with his order.
He says nothing else, but I can tell by his raised eyebrow that he has noticed my change in attire. He likes that I dressed up for him. I stare at the nearest candle, watching the golden flame. Things would be so much less awkward if he would just say something. If he would say something, one word, ever.
Should I just tell him now that I won't marry him? That I would never marry him? That I appreciate everything he has done for me, everything he has given me, and now it's time for us to be going our separate ways?
Just tell him. Just be brave, for once.
"Daddy," I ask, turning to face him.
He nods solemnly. He has positioned us so that the good side of his face is closest to me. The scars are turned away, harder to see, though I can still see the corner of his lip where it has been permanently gashed open. His eyes are very dark, smoldering like coals. High cheekbones and a chiseled jawline. His lips are full, almost pouty. If I were to agree to marry him, that's the mouth I would kiss every night.