Kane
She’s been absolutely amazing despite the fact that I’ve been acting like a caveman. Because Becky’s all sweetness and light, mixed with an incredibly luscious body that has me going four, five, sometimes even six or seven times a day. Oh yeah, I’m drilling that sweet cunt over and over again, no rest for the weary.
Because I really have been behaving like a fucking caveman. The girl’s here as a server, a maid of sorts, a position specifically created to meet Club members’ needs. But still, servers have rights. They have the right to stay in the dorms, to private time and breaks, to eat three square meals a day. We don’t break no labor laws, that’s not how the Club operates.
But all that has gone to shit because I’ve got the beautiful Becky up in my suite 24/7. That’s right, all I do is fuck her again and again in my room, breaking only for meals and showers, letting her get some rest before I start in again. Yeah, the girl was a virgin, but does that bother me? Hell no, I’m a motherfucker and then some, so we went from zero to a hundred in three seconds flat, that sweet brunette became a whore overnight, spreading her legs for me non-stop.
But that’s the thing. Rebecca loves it, she absolutely loves it, holding that pink twat open, beckoning to me, hole pulsing and winking, begging for my dick. And there’s no way she’s faking, the brunette’s wet all the time. Sometimes when we’re eating, I’ll run a finger between her legs just as a test, and fuck yeah, but it comes out coated in goo, her female nectar a steady drip drip drip.
So yeah, we haven’t left my room in a couple days. Everything’s delivered to the door, and all I’ve done is spurted my sperm in her constantly, which led to a very interesting conversation when I found out Becky wasn’t on birth control.
“What the fuck?” I growled, midway through my pizza. Oh yeah, no personal size pie here. I was eating a large on my own, sex makes me a fucking hungry bear.
“I thought you knew,” she nodded slowly, biting delicately into her own slice. “I thought you knew.”
I growled again, slamming my plate down.
“What the fuck?” I raged. “All girls who come to the Club are put on birth control, so what the fuck is this?”
But Becky knows how to handle me. Instead of being intimidated or cowed, instead she just shrugged and bit off another morsel of cheese.
“I dunno,” she said, chewing delicately before swallowing. “But I only had a day to get ready before boarding the flight to Vegas, so it was all last minute.”
I goggled at her then.
“A day?” I asked, disbelieving.
And she nodded, confirming it.
“Yeah, I needed the money,” she said, suddenly shy, looking down at the mattress and not meeting my eyes. “So I said I’d come asap, it would be a rush job.”
I shook my head, nonplussed. Because it wasn’t the brunette’s lack of money that bugged me, it was the lack of preparation. Usually when girls are scoped for the Club, they’ve got to go through a background check that rivals Pentagon screening. Medical tests, psych tests, background checks, heck, probably even their personal credit is evaluated to make sure the female’s ready. And all that shit takes weeks, if not months. So what the hell, how in the world had Becky slipped through the cracks? How in the world had she evaded the hoops and come out the other side?
I sat back, stumped. Because this was day three, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I’d come in that sweet puss about twenty times by now. Oh yeah, as I watched Becky even now, eating pizza cross-legged on the bed, I could see a slight dribble of white leaking from between those pink puffy lips, the evidence of my lust marking that sweet puss. Oh shit, oh shit.
I grabbed the phone immediately.
“Doctor,” I grunted, impatient. And after buzz and a hum, I was put through.
“Prescription birth control,” I ground out. “Have it sent up to my room, now.”
But when I put down the phone, Becky was staring at me, brown eyes questioning.
“I’m sorry,” she said slowly. “But what was that?”
I stared right back at her.
“What do you think it was? You’re getting on birth control asap baby girl, my sperm ain’t no fuckin’ joke. You think you’re not gonna get pregnant? Think again honey, you’re eighteen and fertile, with me you’re gonna be pregnant in no time.”
Becky nodded slowly, putting her pizza down.
“But what was that you just ordered?”
I stared hard at her again.
“What do you think? Hormonal birth control of course.”
And here, she wiped her lips delicately with her napkin.
“Kane, I understand why you did it, but I’m not going on hormonal birth control. This is my body and I can’t do it. I don’t want to,” she said firmly.
I stared at her.
“Are you shitting me?” I drawled. “Are you shitting me?”
But again, my baby isn’t intimidated, not even when I’m playing the big bad bear. She just shook her head again, brown eyes serious.
“I don’t want to,” she said slowly. “It’s messing with your hormones, it’s messing with something that works just fine the way it is,” she said. “And I don’t want to do that. I’ve been healthy my whole life, my body is a gift from Mother Nature, and I’m not willing to subject it to the effects of random chemicals which do god knows what.”
I almost choked then.
“Random chemicals that do god knows what?” I repeated, disbelieving. “What they do is protect you from getting pregnant. Have you been listening baby girl? I’m a virile man and you’re a fertile teenager. That little cunt is ripe, and believe me honey, if you don’t take this stuff, you’re gonna be knocked up in no time.”
The brunette nodded slowly, eyes wide.
“I know Kane, but can’t we do it some other way? There has to be some other way.”
I practically guffawed then, jaw dropping.
“Are you asking me to use condoms?”
She nodded slowly.
“If you want,” the girl replied in a quiet voice.
“If I want?” I parroted dumbly. “Sweetheart, I haven’t used condoms in thirty years. You know what that feels like to a man? It’s like fucking with a sleeping bag on your dick, all that tight, hot, wetness is gone, I might as well chop it off right now.”
Becky nodded slightly.
“I just said if you wanted,” she added, so quiet that I almost couldn’t hear. But I did, and this time her words penetrated the haze of my mind.
“What are you saying?” I asked roughly, voice deep. “What the hell does that mean, ‘if I want’?”
There was a pause and then the brunette lifted her eyes to look at me, those pools so limpid and innocent, a man could drown and die smiling.
“All I’m saying is that you can use condoms if you want,” she added softly. “But you don’t have to.”
The top of my head almost blew off.
“I don’t have to?” I ground out, voice tight. “Are you insane? Don’t they teach you sex ed these days? Or did you miss that part of class?”
Becky shot me a little smile, before lifting those narrow shoulders again in a small shrug, totally unintimidated.
“All I’m saying is that I like feeling you bare in me,” she murmured. “All you, Kane, and nothing else.”
I was literally struck speechless then.
“You must be shitting me,” I growled in a low voice, unable to believe my ears. “This must be a joke.”
But Becky shot me another swift smile.
“No joke,” she said softly. “I just like it, that’s all. All you, Kane, and nothing else.”
And the pizza, birth control, everything else, flew out of my mind. Because I needed to get into this girl’s sweet hot twat and she was telling me that she wanted my jizz straight, that she liked the hot bubbly deep in her snatch even if it got her pregnant. The teen wanted it, she craved the virile sperm, she wanted all of Kane Caldwell, everything I had to offer.
And like a raging male animal, I took then. I was all over that wet pussy, licking her, pushing my fingers in, niggling her clit before helping her ride my dick once more, breasts bobbling in my face as I fucked her bareback, the girl jouncing in my lap. And shit, but it just keeps happening this way. I keep thinking “condom, condom, condom” but every time the going gets hot, the latex flies from my mind and before I know it, I’m balls deep in that nubile, fertile body, releasing sperm once more, roaring with pleasure as hot gushes of semen fly into her twat.
So yeah, things are fucking out of control. I’m supposed to be in charge, I’m the Club member, hell, I’m twenty-five years Becky’s senior, and yet I’m a whimpering puppy, doing whatever the woman wants, coming at her beck and call, my mind, body and emotions completely ruled by the sweet girl’s demands. And it’s not just the physical because when Becky asked me about money, just as usual, I completely caved. What the hell is wrong with me? This woman has me wrapped around her finger, and I’m like an obedient dog, sitting at her knee begging for more.
So yeah, we’d just finished another hot session, and the teen lay on her side, my dick still buried in that sweet puss from the back. Teasingly I pushed my hips forward again, running the hard length up deep into her vaginal channel, savoring that soft, wet heat.
“Mmm,” she murmured, reaching a hand behind to touch where our bodies joined. Sure enough, it came away sticky with goop and teasingly, she brought it to her mouth and licked the fluids, tasting the combined flavor of me and her. “You’re amazing Kane.”
Now, compliments usually don’t do much for me. I’m surrounded by people who want shit, and often they’ll say anything to get it, along the lines of: “Mr. Caldwell, that was hilarious! That joke about the sandwich was so funny.”
“Kane, I think you’re right. You’re absolutely right, one hundred percent.”
And my personal favorite:
“Oh god, your dick’s sooo big! I’ve never had bigger, oh shit, oh shit.”
So yeah, I’ve had men, women, hell even children tell me what I want to hear, all in the hope of getting on my good side. But after decades of hearing the bullshit, you get accustomed to it. The words just slide off my back, they don’t even penetrate my brain anymore, so I’m definitely not getting juiced from frilly nothings. But somehow, with Becky it’s different. When the girl speaks, I’m listening, and not just that but I’m hanging onto her every word, my ears perking up to the musical tone of her voice. And like she knew, the brunette laughed lightly again.
“You’re amazing Kane, really amazing,” she murmured, craning her head to cast me a sweet glance over her shoulder, the movement making my dick twitch within. “It was amazing, it gets better each time.”
I grunted, trailing a big finger over the slope of her shoulder, lightly caressing that delicate skin. My chest puffed out with pride, she made me feel ten feet tall.
“Naw, you’re amazing honey,” I ground out. “You’re delicious, baby girl, absolutely delicious.”
Because shit yeah, Rebecca really is incredible. And I couldn’t help but tell her, which is also totally out of character. Compliments from me are pretty rare, generally I’m a wham, bam, thank you ma’am type of guy, maybe a slap on the ass, a tweak of her clit and I’m into the showers. But with Becky, everything’s been turned on its head. I was lingering in bed with the woman, savoring her female essence, just breathing deep of her aura, and it’s fucking insane, it feels so good. It’s fucking insane how this teen girl has such a hold on me, and I don’t even wanna think about it, it’s gotten so crazy.
So when Becky laughed lightly again, wriggling her hips, I was all ears.
“Baby want more?” I ground out. “Daddy’s got more for you.”
The brunette merely giggled again.
“I do want more,” she confirmed. “But I was wondering …” Her voice trailed off.
“Wondering what?” I rumbled, lightly stroking her shoulders before caressing the sweet S of her waist. “Hmmm?”
She mewled with pleasure, stretching a little.
“I was just wondering,” she said breathily, “How much I’m getting paid?”
That was a subject to make any man’s dick go limp. Because we never want to be reminded that the girls need money, that they don’t just subsist on penis and cupcakes, that they need shit like food, shelter and salaries. So I grunted noncommittally.
“You’re here as a server right?” I ground out. “They kept you on as a server?” Of course Rebecca was here as a maid, I’d specifically told Housekeeping to hire her.
The brunette nodded.
“Yeah, but they didn’t set out the terms. I was just wondering if maybe you knew? Like ten dollars an hour, or fifteen?”
I went completely still. Clearly, the girl had no idea how the Billionaires Club operates, how money flows through the veins of this place like water. But I didn’t want to give it all away just yet.
“Well, that’s a little on the low side,” I rumbled, a big hand smoothing circles on her back, caressing the skin, keeping her warm. “I’m sure we can do better than that.”
Rebecca bit her lip, shooting me a quick glance over her shoulder, hesitating for a moment.
“It’s just that I need to know,” she said quietly. “My family at home needs me to work, so I was hoping to send something back to them soon. But I don’t know how much I’ve made yet.”
That made me frown. This girl had family? She wasn’t just a single, innocent female orbiting the Earth, with no cares in the world, craving nothing but dick? What the hell, real life sucked.
So I massaged her shoulders then, buying time by pulling my cock from her pussy, watching as the purple pole slowly exited her flesh, shiny and covered with cream.
“Unnnh,” Rebecca moaned, turning her face into the pillow. “Ohhh, that feels good.”
And once I was out, I pulled her to me again, cradling that curvy body close.
“Naw, I think we can do better than ten or fifteen an hour,” I rumbled into her ear, weighing her breasts with my hands. Shit, she was so luscious, these Double Ds so pendulous and full, overflowing my palms, and I tweaked a nipple for good measure, making her squeal. “I think we can do better than that. I’ve been thinking to keep you on as my personal maid, and that pays a lot more than fifteen per hour.”
The brunette sighed, eyes closed. But then those lids lifted again, and her brown gaze was filled with worry. I hated seeing it, I hated seeing those chocolate depths wide, a little scared, a little on edge. But she’s a brave girl, and steadying her chin, she turned to look at me.
“Kane, when they hired me for the auction, they told me that I’d make ten thousand minimum, just for my time, just for making the trip to Nevada even if I wasn’t sold. So I was wondering, do you think you could help me? Do you think you could pay me ten thousand? I’d work as long as you want, I could keep your quarters clean,” she rushed, gesturing with a small hand to my suite. “I could cook your food in the kitchens, I could iron your clothes, do whatever you like.”
And I threw my head back and laughed then. Because we had people to do all that shit, I didn’t need a housekeeper.
“Baby, I appreciate it,” I said, stroking her cheek. “But it’s not necessary because we’ve got staff. We’ve got staff to take care of all that, although that’s a nice gesture coming from you.”
Becky blushed then.
“Oh I just meant,” she said quickly. “That I can take care of you, Kane, I know how to do all that stuff, I’m good with an iron, I’m good with a frying pan.”
My heart expanded then because the thought of the two of us, living in a cozy home, my woman looking out for me, making sure all of my needs were met, made me go wild with hunger. Most of the women I date are the opposite. They expect butlers, maids, and chefs, not to mention hairstylists, masseurs, and the dozens of people involved in a woman’s upkeep. Those ladies figure that being with Kane Caldwell is a golden ticket, that they’ll never break a nail anymore, no worries, there’s a manicurist on staff.
So to hear that my baby girl wanted to take care of me in the most innocent way warmed me to the heart. Becky was about the basics, and she wanted to show me that she meant it by being the little woman tending the hearth. And I loved it, absolutely fucking loved it, the sweetness of her gesture, the genuineness of her emotions. But there was no need, I’ve got loads of money, and one thing money does is buy you conveniences. So I chuckled deep in my chest.
“Naw honey, that’s okay,” I growled. “There’s just one need I have and it’s right here,” I said, drawing a big finger down her poochy stomach before trailing over the soft folds of her twat. “And you’ve been doing a great job, you’ve been providing for Daddy like a good girl.”
She twisted a bit, moaning, spreading her legs unconsciously.
“I know,” she breathed. “I know, Kane. But I just want to make sure that I do everything right because I need money, Kane. I really need it. My family needs it. My little brother,” and here she choked a little, “isn’t getting enough to eat and I’m afraid that he doesn’t have the energy to grow and learn, that he’s falling behind in in school because he’s hungry.”
I was still for a moment. Usually I hate sob stories, I’ve heard them all: My parents died, I grew up in a hovel with ten other kids and no running water, I chopped wood for pocket change, hustling on the streets. But for some reason, Becky’s story grabbed my heart, made me go still for a moment.
“Where are you parents?” I growled, eyes blazing. “Why are you looking out for your younger sibling?”
Becky took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders before looking me in the eye.
“My dad, I have no idea. He’s never been part of the picture, I don’t think I’ve ever met him, not as long as I remember. And my mom, Ellen, well,” she took another deep breath before lifting her chin. “My mom was okay for a while, but then she got injured on the job and went off the rails. We get her disability checks, that’s how we survive.”
I nodded. Job-related injuries are the worst, I see them as the head of an international conglomerate, they’re a real liability. But still, why was an eighteen year-old girl in charge of her brother?
“So?” I asked. “It should be your mom supporting the family, somehow, some way. You’re just a child yourself, you can’t be shouldering these burdens.”
And Becky looked back at me steadily, incredible bravery and courage in her eyes before answering.
“I think my mom is an addict,” she said quietly. “I think she’s addicted to something, I’m not sure what, and I think she’s got a couple boyfriends to make money on the side. It’s why I never ask her to spend significant time with Mattie. Because she’s a bad influence, it’s better if Mattie doesn’t know his mom too well.”
And my head roiled, mouth dropping open. Shit, was I hearing this right? Was “boyfriends” a euphemism for johns, paying customers? So in her own way, Becky was telling me that her mom was a hooker of sorts? Holy shit, holy shit, this went beyond bad, this was fucking awful. And my mind whirled, determined to make her life better.
“How long has this been going on?” I growled, giving away nothing. “How long has your mom been on the streets?”
Becky swallowed heavily.
“For as long as I can remember,” she said in a whisper. “At least since Mattie was in diapers and he’s eight now.”
My eyes closed for a moment, before opening once more, staring at the girl hard.
“So you’ve been taking care of your younger brother and this woman, Nana, for almost a decade?” I ground out, voice rough. My chest felt tight, like I was having pains, and it was a new experience. I’ve faced down tough boardroom negotiations, I’ve made grown men cry without feeling a thing, and yet this one little girl, this one sweet female was making my heart ache, her vulnerability so palpable that something in my chest wrenched.
The brunette nodded slowly.
“Ever since I’ve been able to work, I’ve tried to help my family. Even just a little babysitting, a few shifts at the bodega, I did it. I wasn’t legal, you have to be twenty-one to sell alcohol. But I did it and the owner paid me under the table,” she shrugged, trying to smile a little. “Anything for my family.”
And with that, I growled, pulling the girl into my arms, blue eyes blazing. Because this woman was flat-out amazing. She’d been a pillar of strength to the people who meant the most to her for years now, these narrow shoulders had carried a burden that was meant for a much older woman, an adult. And yet, Becky was still sweet and innocent, trusting the world, and not a hardened, cynical criminal. It was incredible, the pure goodness that shone from her, the girl’s determination to do right, to honor her loved ones and provide for them as best she could.
So I pulled her into my arms again, stroking those soft brown curls.
“Honey, as my personal assistant, you’re gonna be paid really well,” I ground out, smoothing a big hand down her back. “How does fifty thousand sound?”
Her breath hitched, eyes going wide as she looked up at me.
“That would be wonderful,” she said, voice wavering. “I was just wondering if I could get some breaks to go back and see my family? It takes a while to earn fifty thousand, and I’m grateful for the opportunity, I am,” she hurried. “I’m happy to stay at the Billionaires Club for as long as it takes me to earn my keep. But if I could get a day off occasionally, I’d really appreciate it, to see my brother and grandma.”
I just held her to me tight again, heart overflowing.
“Of course you can get a day off honey, but you’ll find that the fifty thousand comes quick. You’re making twenty-five thousand each week.”
At that, her mouth dropped open, eyes going wide.
“Twenty-five thousand a week?” she parroted softly. “That means that I’m only here for two weeks.”
I nodded with a wry grin.
“Less than that now. You’ve been in my suite for, oh about four days, would you say? So that leaves ten days in Nevada, and then you’ll be free to see your family.”
Becky threw her arms around me then.
“Thank you Kane,” she whispered against my ear, her breath so soft, so giving. “You can’t imagine what this means to me, it makes all the difference.”
But the thing is, I could. By making Becky happy, I was making myself happy, and it’s pretty different from how I usually operate. Generally I’m a selfish motherfucker, I buy shit to make myself feel good, spending lavishly on vacations, dirtbiking, skiing, renting out entire Caribbean islands if it comes to that.
But with Becky, everything’s been upended. Instead of spending on myself, I was spending on her, and only too happy to do it. Fifty thousand dollars for two weeks of work was over the top by any standard, but the thing is that I didn’t care. With Rebecca, I’d give as much as she wanted, for as long as she wanted, and it felt good. It felt incredibly rewarding and worthwhile, like this was the first time my money actually made a difference.
So I merely pressed another kiss to her forehead, running fingers through those brown curls.
“Honey, just tell me how much you need, and I’ll make sure you get it,” I ground out.
But my girl is one with good boundaries, she’s not a greedy ho, not like so many of the women I know.
“Thank you Kane, but this is more than enough,” she breathed, that curvy form pressed close to me. “You’ve made a world of a difference, you can’t even imagine.”
But the thing is I could, I could picture Rebecca living in a one-bedroom in some shitty neighborhood with her grandma and brother, the walls peeling with paint, the plumbing ancient and creaky, sleeping on a pull-out bed. And the visual pained me, chest constricting again.
“Just tell me,” I ground out, voice low and filled with emotion. “And I’ll make sure you get it.”
This time, she didn’t reply. The brunette’s head merely rested against my shoulder, moving up and down as I breathed, and nothing had ever felt so right. We weren’t doing anything, not really, but the world was coming together, each piece fitting together perfectly, the angels singing. Angels singing? I was fucking losing my mind, Kane Caldwell was going insane, screws in my head going loose. But what I hadn’t counted on was loving it, loving the fall. I was completely unrecognizable, even to myself … and it felt fucking amazing.