I’d done it. I’d tricked him into wanting me, tricked him into spending all that money just so he could have a month of me at his beck and call.

I was pretty proud of myself, feeling smug as he told the guards I’d be staying with him. He prepared some kind of contract while I waited on his couch, watching him work. The bastard didn’t even let me go back to get some of my stuff. He told me I was his now, and he’d give me everything I wanted as long as I went with what he desired from me.

Not that I had anything. No personal belongings, just a ton of baggage I was planning on leaving at the door before I walked into his luxurious penthouse apartment. I’d done my research, and I knew exactly what I was getting myself into. And I couldn’t fucking wait.

Every desire I’d ever had, every whim I could think of, taken care of with the flick of his fingers and pressing some money into a man’s palm with a handshake.

My whole life, I’d struggled because of money, or rather, the lack of it. We were always poor. Always almost without, always struggling. And now, if everything went according to plan, I was finally going to have what I had been working for. And it was all going to be worth it.

As I waited for him to finish up the contract I had to sign, my mind lazily wandered around Charli. She’d been gone for a week now, or closer to ten days, really. And I didn’t give a shit.

She was finally fucking gone.

My big sister who had done nothing but put me down, make me feel inferior and suck up all the love from our fuck-up parents. She got it all – the beauty, the brains, the attention. But not anymore.

The night she didn’t come home, I knew things had changed. I figured she’d finally gotten sick of lugging her younger sister around and decided to get rid of me, ditch me the first chance she got and move on to something better. I knew she wasn’t coming back. She always spoke of having a better life, not having to work for every bite and every dollar. Looks like she finally got it, leaving me completely forgotten behind her.

She never really cared about me, anyway. All I was, was some more baggage for her to drag through life. Good for her for finally shaking me.

I’d always been jealous of my sister. She was beautiful, she was everything I hoped to be growing up. But instead of being a good girl and looking up to her big sister, I let my jealousy fester and rot. I hated her more and more as the days passed, until a desire to see her life go up in flames and my own blossom took up everything I thought I knew. I wanted her gone, but at the same time, my envy went so far, I wanted to take everything she had as well.

I wanted her life. I wanted her looks. I wanted her way with men.

I observed her for a long time without her knowing. And for my eighteenth birthday, just a week or so ago, I waited for her to come home so I could finally tell her she could go fuck herself, and I’d be handling my own shit from then on. No more curfews, no more parenting from someone barely a few years older than me. We were done with all of that. I was gonna be my own boss, and there was nothing Charli could have done about it.

Except she never even showed up. The day she decided to finally bail on me was my fucking birthday.

So, I decided I’d use the opportunity when the phone rang that night, and someone asked for Lolita.

I told them it was me, and yes, everything was fine. Yes, I’d be at work the next day. Asked for the address, wrote it down. Walked into the club, pretending I wasn’t shocked when I realized Charli was a dancer of some kind, really more of a call-girl as they explained to me. But the money was amazing. It was more than I had ever dreamed of, and it was all fucking mine. I watched him wire it into my account, then rub his hands together and look at me with his ugly and beautiful eyes zeroing in on mine.

“All mine now,” he told me, and I gave him a brilliant, pearly white smile.

I knew how to play a role. I knew how to be exactly what he wanted. The perfect mix of a vixen and an innocent, sweet little girl. His Lolita.

I wasn’t a moron like my sister. I knew how to work my best angles, and because I’d spent my whole life watching my sister, with her fucking ethereal beauty she didn’t even realize she owned, I knew exactly how to act. I could have a man like Beau wrapped around my finger in a matter of days. Just wait, Mr. Wolfe, I thought giddily. You’re going to be the one at my beck and call by the time I’m done with you.

“What are you going to do to me?” I asked him softly, leaning back on the sofa and slowly, slowly, opening up my legs. I saw his eyes wander low between my legs, resting on the sweet little wet spot there. I put a finger over it and gasped lightly when I touched myself. “You want to taste me?”

“No,” he grinned at me. “I want you to taste yourself and tell me what it’s like, so I can decide if I want you on my tongue.”

I glared at him and he laughed at my enraged expression.

“Aren’t you a little too old to be acting like a brat?” he teased me.

“Are you calling me old?” I asked in mock horror, and stuck my tongue out at him.

He didn’t move, just kept glancing from my eyes and to the wet patch on my panties.

“Taste yourself,” he told me again. “Right the fuck now, babydoll.”

I lowered my shaky fingers between my legs, slowly stroking myself in just the right spot. I moaned and saw him stiffen at his desk, his posture uncomfortable and his hand resting on his knee, only a few inches away from the spot I knew he desperately wanted to stroke. I touched my pussy through the thin fabric of my panties, gently outlining the shape of my soaked pussy lips. It felt too good, and even though I wasn’t going to allow myself to have any pleasure from my dealings with Mr. Wolfe, I found myself moaning loudly as I stroked myself for him.

“You look damn good like that,” he told me roughly. “Slip your fingers inside. All over your pretty cunt.”

I gave him a shy little look, and it made him laugh out loud.

“You don’t have to show me,” he said sweetly. “Just taste. Fucking now.”

I slipped my fingers under the lacy fabric and slid them between my pussy lips, right along my clit. I shivered under my own touch, needing so much more. No matter how hard I tried to focus on the task at hand, I couldn’t do it. I kept sneaking glances at him, the intensity in his gaze, the unmistakable bulge in his pants.

What was Mr. Wolfe going to do when he realized I’d never had a cock before?

And what was he going to say when I told him he’d been my first kiss too?

I smiled through my moans and watched as his fingers tightened into a fist. I knew he wanted me. If I wasn’t so needy, so fucking desperate for that orgasm I’d never had, I could twirl him around my pinky and have him do anything I fucking wanted in a matter of seconds.

“Please, sir,” I mewled. “I want to taste it.”

“Ask properly,” he growled at me, and I gave him a shy smile that I’d practiced to perfection in front of my mirror.

“Please, sir,” I repeated. “May I taste my pussy from my fingers? I really, really need to.”

“Yes,” he groaned. “Right the fuck now.”

I raised a shaky hand to my lips and realized a second too late I was actually nervous about doing it. I could smell myself on my own hand, the smell of sex strong and tempting on my fingertips.

“Now,” he repeated. “Or do I have to help you?”

I gave him a scared little look, which seemed to please him. He was on his feet in a matter of seconds, approaching me and taking hold of my hand by the wrist. I gasped when his fingers wrapped around me, feeling their searing heat on my flesh.

“Open,” he said, and I parted my lips slightly, which only made him laugh out loud. “You’ll barely fit one finger that way, babydoll. But fine, we’ll just have to go fucking deeper. I hope you can take a cock all the way like you’re about to with your finger.”

He put my finger on my tongue and my helpless eyes found his when I tasted my own sweetness from my hand. I mewled, and he grinned at me knowingly, slowly pushing my index finger deeper until it was down to the knuckle down my throat.

“Just like that,” he told me gently. “Now suck.”

I did it on instinct, because he’d told me to. I sucked my cheeks in and covered my finger in saliva, slowly pushing it deeper inside myself as I licked it clean of my own juices. It felt good, and deliciously naughty, to do this in front of him. I’d never done anything remotely similar, and I felt my pussy getting wetter and wetter, soaking through the fabric of my panties while he watched.

“Good girl,” he said, taking a step back. “I could watch you like that all fucking day.”

I doubted it. I was sure I looked like a mess, sprawled on the couch like that. But I liked the taste of myself. It felt so naughty, and so perfect. I loved the way he looked at me while I did it. It made me feel like I had all the power of the world in those fingers I was sucking.

He let go of my hand and touched my face instead, his fingers lingering gently on my cheek.

“So pretty,” he muttered to himself. “Going to look so pretty when I make you cry.”

“I don’t cry,” I told him, slipping my fingers out of my mouth with a pop. “Never did, never will.”

His only reaction was to laugh out loud and shake his head, which only pissed me off more. He really was a rich, entitled bastard, and I couldn’t wait to go through with my plan. I wanted to take his money. I would use every chance I had to steal and take from him until he had nothing left. I wanted his money, but more than that, I wanted his power. And I wanted to see men like him humiliated, and brought down by a poor little girl like myself. I wanted to be his trophy wife, but I also wanted to be pulling all the strings. I didn’t want to spend another day in school or working, I just wanted every luxury in the world, and every man at my feet, worshipping the ground I walked on.

Beau Wolfe might not have known it yet, but he owed me. Men like him had no idea what I had gone through, the hardships and the shit I had to take so I could be more like them. And Beau was going to repay me for being better than me. All that money he had… I was going to steal and take every dollar he has until I finally stopped feeling like an empty fucking shell.

His hand wrapped around my throat next and his fingers held on gently, but firmly. I knew he could feel me swallowing, my body trembling under his touch.

“You’re a bad little girl,” he told me. “Just what I fucking need. We’re going to have a lot of fun together, babydoll.”

I tried to pretend his words didn’t get me off, and flashed him a brilliant smile.

“You don’t even know what you’re getting into,” I told him in a syrupy-sweet voice, and his fingers tightened around my neck.

“Neither do you, babydoll,” he growled.