His Muse: A Dark Alpha Bad Boy Romance Read online

  I put the dress on my beautiful four-poster bed, and quickly check my computer before I start taking my clothes off. And sure enough, I have a message from him...

  Happy birthday, cara mia. You're going to make every man's mouth water at that party. Have fun.

  I quickly type back a reply, my fingers shaking. We both know how important this birthday is. I've finally turned eighteen and if everything goes according to plan... tonight I'm going to get the most important gift of all.

  Thank you! I'll think of you the whole time. Let you know when I know more :) x

  I hit reply and turn back towards my bed with an exasperated smile. I strip off my clothes quickly until I'm only wearing nude, lacy lingerie, and then I pull the dress on. It's a pretty pink thing with a full, short skirt and a sweetheart neckline. Perfect for daddy's little girl, and I know I still look like his sweetheart in it.

  See, I played my cards just right.

  Of course, I prefer the other dress, the beaded one. It is sexy, tight and revealing whereas the pink one is sweet and understated. But I knew my father had to believe I was still his innocent baby, if I wanted to get the present I really wanted. And I think I managed to fool him.

  I check myself out in the mirror. My blue eyes are wide and rimmed with thick, dark lashes. My hair is falling down my back in pretty blonde curls, and my body looks tiny in the dress. I look younger than I am, but tonight, that's what I'm going for.

  I walk down the stairs and give a sign to our maid. She turns the lights down and everyone in the foyer gasps as I make my way downstairs. I know I look beautiful, and I grin with the pleasure of everyone's eyes on me as I finally arrive downstairs.

  People rush to greet me, and I feel my father's proud eyes on me as I mingle and chat with everyone who came here today to celebrate my eighteenth birthday.

  I play the good girl, declining the flute of champagne my father decided I could have today, and being as sweet and innocent as I can possibly manage. Several times throughout the evening, I catch daddy's approving eyes on mine and I beam with pride when I do. I know this night is important for him as well, with his new boss here and dad wanting to make an impression. If all goes according to plan, there's a big fat promotion for him too, as his boss loves seeing a family man in action.

  There's just the two of us now - daddy and me. Since mom passed away when I was only seven, he never remarried or even dated another woman, and I am grateful for that. I couldn't bear to see him with anyone else. I know how much he loved my mom, and so did I, even though her memory is fading daily.

  The evening passes quickly, and I'm the center of so much attention I can't stop smiling. Finally, my father clinks on his glass and we all turn to face him for the announcement he's about to make. My fingers shake and I dig them into the fabric of my dress when he speaks up.

  "Friends, family. Thank you for celebrating my dear Cara's eighteenth birthday with us," he says with a smile in my direction. "Cara is the light of my life, and she makes every battle, every fight, worth it. I love you, darling."

  I blink away the tears in my eyes and clap along with everyone else. I mouth the words 'I love you' to him and my dad smiles. But I am anxious... I need to know if I'm getting the gift I want so very badly.

  "Cara asked for one thing only," my father continues, and my heartbeat quickens. "She wants to go to Italy this summer, spend some time getting to know the Italian art and architecture before she starts studying Art History in the fall."

  Everyone claps again and I look down with feigned innocence, even though my heart is pounding so hard I'm sure I'm about to pass out.

  "So, of course I couldn't deny my darling's biggest wish," dad smiles, and I let my face break into a smile. It's really happening! He's going to do it, he's going to let me leave!

  "I've arranged for you, darling Cara, to stay with a good friend in Italy," he tells me proudly, and my smile freezes in place. "He's an artist himself, and he will make sure you're taken care of and don't get into any trouble. You're leaving for his estate in Tuscany in a week!"

  I just stare at him, unable to believe his words.

  Be careful what you wish for...

  I do my best to clap along with everyone else, but my heart is breaking. I didn't want this. I wanted to get away, not go from one prison to the next. And I can't hide my broken heart any longer.

  I break away from the crowd as soon as I can, and run out into our expansive gardens behind the house. I hide between the hydrangea bushes, my favorites, and pull out my phone. I quickly send a text, my fingers shaking as they hit the screen.

  I'm going to Italy. Some old guy's mansion, my dad's friend. He wants me to stay there all summer.

  I lean back against a tree trunk and wait for the reply, blinking back tears.

  I can't believe this is happening. I tried so hard to be able to go to Italy. To see him... Luca. The man I fell in love with... The man whose face I've never seen, but I've touched myself to his words too many times to count, made my tight virgin pussy cum over and over again. The man I'm falling in love with... The man I wanted to go to Italy for. And now it's all over, because dad's making me stay with that old friend of his and I'll have no freedom there, I'm sure. I'm going to be a pretty bird in a golden cage, just like I am here at home.

  My phone beeps with a reply and I look down through cloudy eyes.

  We'll find a way, cara mia. I need to see you.

  I type a reply.

  I'm crying.

  He pings back a moment later.

  Good, I like that.

  I blush and raise my phone in front of my face, snapping a quick picture and sending it to him. Next thing I know, my father approaches from behind the corner with a worried expression on his face.

  "Darling, you alright?" he asks me with concern, and I can tell he's really worried.

  "I guess," I say softly. "I just... I'm not sure I like the idea of staying with a friend of yours, dad."

  "It's okay," he nods. "I understand. I told Mason to go easy on you, darling. Don't worry, you'll still have some time for yourself."

  I sniffle and my phone pings, but I stuff it deeper into my purse so dad won't notice.

  "Do I know him?" I ask softly, and dad looks at me thoughtfully.

  "I'm not sure," he admits. "Last time he was here was two years ago. Not sure you remember him, dear, but he'll take good care of you."

  "And I'll have my privacy?" I ask.

  "Yes," dad nods. "He has a big estate. You'll have your own quarters, I made sure of it. It'll be grand, darling. The best way to be introduced to Italian art."

  "Alright," I say softly, and let him hold me.

  "Come on, let's head back inside. It's after midnight - you should get some rest."

  I don't even protest because I'm really tired, and I want to get back to my messages and Luca. I say goodbye to our guests moodily and head to my bedroom. The maid has made my bed and cleaned the room, but I toss the expensive dress on the floor nonetheless and climb between the sheets with a sigh.

  I pull out my phone and check my messages again. My eyes light up when I read Luca's.

  So pretty when you cry, cara mia. I'm going to break you so good.

  How good? I reply, needing to be comforted.

  To pieces.

  Put me back together, too?

  Yes. Only to break you again.

  I smile sleepily to myself as I write a last reply. Goodnight, Luca. I'll talk to you in the morning.

  I can barely keep my eyes open, but I'm glad I did once I get his reply.

  Sweet dreams, cara mia. And don't worry. When you come to Italy, I'm going to fucking steal you and make you my pretty toy.

  I fall into a fitful sleep, and my dreams are filled with Luca's faceless image.

  Three

  Mason

  She is coming. My sweet little girl, cara mia, is on her way to Tuscany right now and set to arrive any minute. I’ve made arrangements with her father; I’ve sent a drive
r to pick her up from the airport. I don’t trust myself to be around her yet. I need every second I have left on my own to remind myself I need to go slow. Ease her into it. Break her slowly, piece by piece, until Cara submits to me completely.

  I down my whiskey in one go and set the glass down on the marble countertop. The sound echoes in the spacious kitchen, and I run a hand through my dark hair as I wait. My cock is already straining against my pajama trousers, hard as a fucking rock with the mere thought of her. I remember her as if it was only a day ago that I’d seen her.

  An image flashes through my mind. Cara Newton, a vision in a white dress with a halo of flowers around her head. The heady scent of orange blossoms assaults my nose as I come closer, her innocent eyes slowly climbing up, up, up, until they reach mine. I am so much taller, so much bigger. She’s a tiny thing compared to me, a tiny fucking thing I want to own so badly it makes my chest ache.

  A noise interrupts my thoughts and I grin to myself as I hear my driver pull up in front of the house. More noise follows and I hear voices, but they are too muffled to differentiate between their owners. I look through the French doors leading out into my lavish garden as the voices come closer and closer. I hear footsteps hitting the ground and I turn around, readying myself for the sight I am about to witness.

  Truth be told, nothing could prepare me for the vision in front of me. She is beautiful, lovelier even than I remember from the first time I saw her.

  Another flashback. Cara Newton, the daughter of my best friend from work, back when I was still working in the States. She is sweetness and innocence wrapped into a feisty little package even at the ripe age of sixteen. She is stunning, she is delicious, and she is so fucking forbidden it makes my damn mouth water.

  “Hello,” I say easily, my voice low and throaty as she raises her eyes to mine, just like at her sixteenth birthday party. “I’m glad you’re here, Cara.”

  Her eyes go wide as she drinks me in. I see a flicker of recognition in her gaze. She knows who I am. It shouldn’t have an effect on me, but it does. My dick strains painfully against my thigh and Cara’s mouth opens in a soft gasp as she comes towards me.

  “Signorina Newton, this is Mr. Mason Scott,” my driver, Filippe, introduces us. His voice seems a little embarrassed since I’m not dressed properly for the meeting, but I’m sure the man’s seen worse from me. I’m not exactly known for my propriety. “Mr. Scott, this is Cara Newton.”

  “We’ve met before,” she says softly, and I grin as I approach her. Her eyes drink me in, all six foot five of me towering above her like a fucking giant. She extends a hand for me to shake and I kiss the back of it, smirking at her. She’s openly staring, her eyes resting on my toned abs and rock hard chest. If she notices the hardness of my cock, she doesn’t say a word, but a light blush colors her pretty cheeks in a shade of rosy red. “Do you remember?” she asks me sweetly. “It must’ve been… Two years ago now. At my sixteenth birthday party?”

  The sound of live music.

  The oppressing heat of the late summer day, making me sweat underneath my custom-tailored Armani suit.

  Her, tripping into my arms. Those eyes, fearfully meeting mine as if she’s afraid of me doling out punishment for what she’s done and craving it at the same time. The way she licks her lips when our eyes meet.

  No words are exchanged, she doesn’t know who I am, she probably never even finds out my name. But I make it my business to get to know everything about her before I leave her sweet sixteenth. I’m in town on business, and her father, an old colleague of mine, invites me over after years and years of not hearing from one another. I don’t stay long – I can’t, not with my flight leaving in a few hours – but it is enough to memorize the contours of Cara’s beautiful face. Enough to decide she has to be mine.

  I bide my time carefully. When she fell into my arms, the girl was merely sixteen. It wouldn’t feel fucking right. It still doesn’t, in more ways than one. But what can I say… I like beautiful things, and the moment I saw Cara Newton, I knew I had to add her to my collection.

  “Vaguely,” I reply with a smirk, and her whole face falls when she thinks I don’t remember her. I love it, love how addicted she is to attention. My eyes go over her petite body lazily, seeing all the changes two years have made to my girl. She isn’t taller at all, but her curves are those of a grown woman now. Her tits are small and pert, and her waist is abnormally tiny in the sweet summer dress she’s wearing. I want to rip it off her, now that I finally can. In fact, my hands form fists at my sides so I don’t do it right there on the spot. I want her already. I don’t want to fucking wait.

  Patience was never a virtue of mine, and seeing beautiful Cara in front of me makes me want to ravage her.

  “Filippe will show you to your room,” I tell her easily. “I’d like to meet you downstairs in an hour so we can get to know each other properly. I’m sure you’re tired from your long journey.”

  She nods, and has trouble leaving. I can already tell she feels it too, the fucking pull towards me which makes it impossible to stay away. I felt it for the first time at her birthday party, and I pulled all the fucking right strings to get her in my arms this summer. And now all that’s left to do is turn Cara into a woman.

  Filippe leads her away and I’m wildly jealous of his hand on the small of her back, even though my driver has had a boyfriend for the past thirty years. Still, I want it to be my hand, guiding her into a room on my property.

  I head into my study. I lock the door behind me and strip my pajama trousers before sitting down at my desk and turning my computer on. The monitor flickers to life and my pupils dilate as I see her. Filippe’s showing her into her room, the camera showing me her beautiful image. She doesn’t know it’s there, and there’s no way she’ll find the camera hidden in the ceiling of her room.

  I grin to myself once my driver leaves her, my hand going to my cock and slowly stroking the length of it as Cara twirls around her new room. She’s still blushing, and her lips part in a sigh as she opens the French doors leading out to the balcony. She looks at the stunning view, but merely for a few seconds. Then, she comes towards the white dressing table and looks into the full-length mirror at her perfect image.

  Another camera switches on, and I’m right there, behind the mirror, looking at the girl I’ve wanted to own for two years. The girl I am so obsessed with, I orchestrated everything, from her daddy’s approval, to a whole fake personality, just so I could fucking have her. I’m a sick fuck, and I never denied it. But from the moment I had Cara in my hands, I knew she craved this domination as badly as I did. And now it’s finally time.

  The strap of her dress falls down her shoulder and she tugs on it impatiently. A low groan escapes my throat and I stroke my dick harder, long motions threatening to make me come undone any second now. Having her this close to me, only a few hallways away, is fucking with my head. She’s all I’ve thought about for the past two years. Her mouth the only thing I’ve wanted, her sweet little pussy the one I’ve been waiting for my entire life. And as she slips her dress off her body, I can’t fucking help it. I stroke my cock harder, watching her move in front of the mirror, appraising her perfect image with critical eyes.

  She pulls the dress down and reveals a pretty, lacy pink bra to my eyes. I cup my balls, heavy with the release I’ve been building up for her for such a long fucking time. “Cara,” I groan to myself. “Jesus fucking Christ.” She’s already giving me a show, and she’s been here for mere minutes. I’m more than pleased with myself for installing the hidden cameras.

  The dress slips down her hips and pools at her feet, and she steps out of it slowly while I stare at her beautiful image. Her body is tiny, and she’s very frail, almost fragile looking. I think of all the fucking ways I want to hurt her and I can’t stop myself any longer. Thick, long ropes of cum spurt from my cock, landing on my desk as I groan her name and relieve myself of the tension I’ve felt for two damn years.

  I keep starin
g at her, slowly jerking my cock that refuses to soften. On my computer screen, Cara reaches for her bra strap and slowly pulls it down. I’m moments away from seeing her tits, and I turn my back to the monitor, getting up from my chair, naked as I am.

  I don’t want to steal this moment from her, like I did the others.

  I want her to give it to me willingly, just like she will her virgin pink pussy, her tight little ass and her sweet mouth. I know no one’s had them yet. I made damn fucking sure about that. No one touches my sweet doll until she’s ready to play with me.

  There’s an ensuite bathroom adjoined to my study and bedroom, and I head inside there now to wash my spendings from my body. The water running from the shower is cool, almost icy, and I like it that way. I already know I’m going to have trouble keeping my hands off Cara, and I need to get rid of as many stimuli as humanly possible.

  My cock grows impossibly hard in the shower again, the mere thought of Cara only a few hallways away fucking with my head so fucking much I nearly burst all over the expensive marble tiles again. I restrain myself, and I come out of the shower with my head much fucking clearer.

  I look at myself in the mirror, giving my image a critical stare as the steam fogs up my view. I’m older than her, not by a scandalous amount, but enough to raise some brows. A thirty-two-year-old man with an eighteen-year-old virgin would definitely cause some uproar in her part of the world. But I’m handsome, probably more so now than ever. My features are chiseled, stubble covering my chin and the bottom part of my face. My eyes are a dark brown and my hair is almost black. I look like fucking sin in a suit, and like a dream when it’s off, and I like to use it to my advantage.

  My gaze falls lower, to my body. I’ve worked hard to keep myself in shape, and that’s one thing about me that’s never gonna change. My chest and stomach are covered in a thin layer of hair, dark and soft and so fucking different to those pansy-ass boys Cara must be used to. I’ve heard the term ‘real man’ thrown around, and I know I would be considered. Not just because of my looks, but because I care about the woman I’m with. And when it comes to Cara… I’m gonna show her what a real man looks like.