Albert POV
"Is it?" I leaned closer, catching the faint scent of her shampoo. "Your aunt signed you over. No one's looking for you. But I'm not a monster just play by my rules, and you'll live like a queen—luxury, pleasure, anything you want."
Her eyes narrowed. "Your rules? What, I'm your slave now?"
"Not a slave." I reached out, brushing a lock of hair from her face. She flinched but didn't pull away. "A partner. Obey me, and I'll show you things you've never dreamed of."
She hugged her knees tighter. "I'm not some toy you can play with."
"Oh, but you will be," I murmured, my thumb grazing her jaw. Her skin was soft, warm, and fuck, I wanted to taste it. "You'll beg for it eventually."
She jerked back, glaring. "Never."
I chuckled, standing. "We'll see, eat, you'll need your strength."
I stepped out to let her stew, giving her space to process. An hour later, I returned with a fresh tray—wine, steak, some chocolate for dessert. She was still on the bed, the first tray untouched. Stubborn. I liked that.
"Alright, enough sulking," I said, setting the new tray down. "Join me. You can't starve yourself out of this."
She glared but slid to the table, eyeing the food warily. "What's the catch? Poison?"
I laughed, pouring her wine. "If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't waste a good vintage, so it. Let's talk."
She hesitated, then sat, picking at the steak. "Talk about what? How you bought me like a car?"
I leaned back, sipping my wine. "About me, maybe. You know who I am?"
She shrugged, chewing slowly. "Some rich guy and Carla said you were a porn star."
"Was," I corrected, watching her reaction. "Made my first million at twenty-two, fucking on camera. Built my tech empire after. Now I'm worth billions. Not bad for a guy who started with nothing."
Her fork paused. "Why tell me this?"
"To show you I'm not just some creep. I've worked for everything I have, including you." I leaned forward, voice softening. "You're not a prisoner, Miranda. You're an opportunity."
She snorted. "Opportunity? To be your sex doll?"
"To learn," I said, holding her gaze. "To feel things you've never felt because you're a virgin, aren't you?"
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away. "That's none of your business!"
"It is now." I stood, moving to her side of the table. "I can teach you. Pleasure like you can't imagine."
She pushed her chair back, standing. "Stay away from me."
But her voice wavered, and her eyes flicked to my lips. I stepped closer, close enough to feel her breath. "You're curious. I can see it. Let me show you."
I reached for her, my hand sliding to her waist. She froze, her breasts heaving under her thin shirt, nipples faintly visible. Fuck, I wanted to rip it off, suck those tits until she moaned. But slow. She was new, untouched.
"Don't," she whispered, but her body leaned into me, just a fraction.
I tilted her chin up, my lips hovering over hers. "One kiss. Just one."
Her eyes fluttered, panic mixing with something hotter. I closed the gap, my mouth brushing hers, soft at first, then deeper. My tongue teased her lips, tasting salt from her tears. My hand slid down, cupping her ass, pulling her against my hardening cock, straining against my pants.
She gasped, pulling back, eyes wide. "Stop! I can't—"
But her hands lingered on my chest, trembling, and her thighs pressed together, betraying her. I smirked, stepping back. "You will. Soon."
Her breath hitched, and she sank onto the bed, torn between fear and want. I wanted to push her down, spread her legs, see that virgin pussy glistening for me. But not yet. Let her burn for it.
I turned to leave, pausing at the door. "Sleep well, Miranda. Tomorrow's a new lesson."
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Miranda's POV
I woke with a start, tangled in silk sheets, the room bathed in soft morning light. My head pounded, memories of last night crashing back, Albert's lips on mine, his hands pulling me close, that damn camera blinking in the corner. I must've passed out mid-panic, too exhausted to fight anymore. The bed was huge, swallowing me in its softness, but it felt like a cage. I sat up, heart racing, and scanned the room. No Albert, it's just me, alone in this gilded prison.
Sliding out of bed, I padded across the plush carpet, my bare feet silent. A wardrobe stood open, stocked with clothes—designer dresses, lacy underwear, all my size. Creepy. On the nightstand, a handwritten note caught my eye: Breakfast at 9. Dining hall. Don't be late. -A.
His handwriting was sharp, commanding, like him. I crumpled the paper, tossing it aside. Like hell I'd play along. But my stomach growled, betraying me. I hadn't eaten since yesterday's campus lunch. Fine. I'd go, but only to tell him to shove it.
I grabbed a simple black dress from the wardrobe, soft fabric clinging to my skin, and slipped on flats. A quick glance in the mirror showed my face pale, eyes puffy from crying. I looked like a mess, but I didn't care. Let him see what he'd done.
The dining hall was down a long hallway, sunlight streaming through tall windows. Albert sat at a polished table, sipping coffee, looking annoyingly perfect in a crisp shirt, sleeves rolled up to show muscled forearms. He glanced up as I entered, his dark eyes locking onto me, a slow smile spreading.
"Good morning, Miranda," he said, voice smooth. "Sleep well?"
I crossed my arms, staying by the door. "No. Thanks to you. What's this about, Albert? Another game?"
He gestured to the chair opposite him, a spread of pancakes, fruit, and bacon laid out. "No games. Just breakfast. Sit."
I hesitated, then slid into the seat, grabbing a plate. "I'm only here because I'm starving. Don't think this means I'm okay with… whatever this is."
He chuckled, leaning back. "Fair enough, but while you're here, let's talk about your education."
I froze, fork halfway to my mouth. "Education? You mean your sick plan to make me your sex toy?"
"Not a toy," he said, eyes glinting. "A student. You're untouched, Miranda. I can teach you pleasure, intimacy, things you've never felt, starting simple. A kiss, maybe."
My cheeks burned, remembering last night's kiss, how my body had betrayed me. "I don't want your lessons."
He stood, circling the table, stopping behind me. "Your body says otherwise." Before I could protest, he leaned down, lips brushing mine, firmer this time, demanding. His tongue slipped in, coaxing mine, and fuck, my pulse raced, heat pooling low in my belly. I pushed at his chest, but my hands lingered, feeling his heartbeat.
"Stop," I gasped, pulling back. "I can't."
"You can," he murmured, kissing me again, deeper, his hand sliding to my neck. My nipples hardened against the dress, and I hated how good it felt. "Just let go. Follow my lead."
I shoved harder, breaking free, panting. "You're forcing me!"
He stepped back, smirking. "Am I? Or are you curious?" He sat, picking up his coffee like nothing happened. "Eat, we'll continue later."
I glared, shoving pancakes in my mouth to avoid talking but my body buzzed, traitorously awake.
By afternoon, he'd summoned me to a private lounge, all velvet couches and low lighting. I walked in, arms crossed, ready to fight. Albert stood by a bar, pouring wine, his shirt unbuttoned enough to show a hint of chest. God, why was he so hot? It made hating him harder.
"Ready for lesson two?" he asked, handing me a glass.
I set it down, untouched. "I'm not your puppet, Albert."
He stepped close, voice low. "I didn't call you a puppet, just you and me, exploring. Trust me, Miranda, I'll make it good."
Before I could argue, he tugged my dress straps down, slow, deliberate. I froze as the fabric slid off, baring my breasts, nipples stiffening in the cool air. His eyes darkened, hungry. "Beautiful," he whispered, hands grazing my sides, thumbs brushing just under my tits.
"Don't," I said, but my voice shook, and I didn't move. His fingers trailed lower, hooking into my panties, pulling them down. My pussy was bare, tingling, and I clenched my thighs, mortified at the wetness there.
"Relax," he said, kneeling, his breath hot against my skin. "I'm just teaching you erogenous zones—here." His fingers brushed my inner thighs, making me gasp. "Here." His thumb grazed my nipple, sending a jolt through me. "And here." His hand cupped my pussy, one finger sliding along my slit, slick with my arousal.
"Albert, please," I whimpered, half protest, half plea.
He looked up, eyes locked on mine. "Let me show you." His tongue flicked out, parting my folds, lapping at my clit. I moaned, legs trembling as he sucked gently, his tongue diving deeper, circling my entrance, teasing the sensitive nerves. My hands gripped his hair, pulling him closer despite myself. The pleasure built, intense, unfamiliar, until my hips bucked, and I came hard, crying out, my pussy pulsing against his mouth.
He stood, wiping his lips, smirking. "Good girl, that's just the start."
I collapsed onto the couch, panting, my body alive in ways I'd never known. "I… I can't believe that happened."
He sat beside me, hand resting on my thigh. "You're a natural, ready for more?"
I shook my head, voice small. "I've never… I'm a virgin, Albert."
His eyes darkened, a low growl escaping him. "Fuck, that's perfect, we'll go slow, Miranda. I'll make it worth it."
Before he could say more, his phone buzzed, loud and insistent, he cursed, pulling it out. "What? Now?" He listened, face hardening. "Fine. I'm coming." He stood, adjusting his bulging cock through his pants. "It's about business, stay here and think about how good that felt."
I sat there, naked, trembling, my pussy still throbbing from his tongue, my mind a mess of fear and want. He left, the door clicking shut, and I was alone, burning with thoughts I couldn't control.