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The first time he sees her—he's walking with one of his secretaries down the mall lane talking about the revenue of the past year. She had been standing by the window panel of a high end dress shop, displaying a beautiful shimmering dress on the doll. The fabric was undoubtedly expensive enough that only the arrogant aristocrats could buy, hugging every curve of the doll like sin and the low neckline would show off a woman's assets perfectly.

Most of the mall lines he owned all contained shops like these—gorgeous, high end, lavish. Certainly nothing the girl wearing school shoes and a pink uniform could afford yet she stared longingly at the dress as if she could pry it out off the doll and make way with it.

He can only see the back of her figure and she looked absolutely tiny compared to him. Her long hair was unbound and flowing like a river he wanted to drink from, the smoothness of her strands telling of how many hours she must have fussed with her silk presses. Her pink skirt was scandalously short—something a college slut would wear—only reaching her thighs and the urge to just slap her soft ass to teach her a lesson engulfed him.

Control. Control. He wasn't some animal wanting to rut over some school girl. He was a Colonel for God's sake, the steadfast and protector of the free world.

His secretary prattles on beside him about advertising and opening another mall while he simply hums, purple eyes completely drawn to the girl now bending over to stare at the purse on display near the foot of the doll.

Fuck. Fuck.

He nearly side steps but barely manages to cover up his slip up with a blank look on his face. Her ass, her perfect fucking ass was on full display beneath that tiny mini skirt. He could see the line of her black stockings digging into her thighs, the peek of her pink lacy panties that made his cock give a traitorous twitch, the adorable shape of her cheeks that just begged to be slapped red.

Where the fuck were her parents? What the fuck was she doing walking around like that?

She turns her body and his world completely stops.

His breath hitches as his purple eyes stop blinking at the sheer shock of her visage. She looked like a dream, the very most beautiful dream he never wanted to wake up from. Her eyes were big and doe-like, her nose was scrunched up like a kitten who stepped on her paw accidentally, her pout shining with a layer of strawberry lip gloss.

Her uniform bow tie was loose, her white shirt unbuttoned down a few notches and giving him a glimpse of that soft skin glimmering with sweat he could lick with his tongue, her bra cupping her heavy and fat breasts inside of that shirt that could barely contain. She was curvy and all soft skin, her plump figure nearly short circuiting his brain.

"Sir?" His secretary who noticed he had stopped walking beside them asked, "Sir, is everything alright?"

He says nothing, mouth slightly ajar at the sight of her.  He had seen his fair of women in his life; super models, soldiers, influencers, business owners who all tried to get into his favor or his bed. There hasn't been any single lady that hasn't tried to flirt him up and he had been often annoyed to no ends by their attempts.

But if this girl tried to chat him up? If she tried to slide into his bed? He would let her. He would smile like an idiot to lure her in and tie her to his bed so she would never try to get into another man's bed.

God, he would let her give her everything if she just sat on his face with those bouncing cheeks.

"Leave," He's surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded, like he hadn't had a sip of water (And no water would ever compare to her juicy slick he would drink), "Now."

All of his God fearing officers and employees knew to scram whenever he gave a command and his secretary was no different. The man instantly burst into a sprint and left. It would have been funny if it not for the fact that he was still mesmerized by her.

He watches as she prances into a different shop, the way her mini skirt rides up when she walks is doing fuck all but make his dick even harder in his pants. His eyes flicker to the bright sign of the shop, a make up shop and often a hot spot for lonely wives to spend their husband's money like water.

Was she lonely? Was her boyfriend or pray tell, her husband neglecting her?

The thought of her having any man in her life that wasn't him made him absolutely seethe like some petty scorned wife. The intensity of it should reel him away, it should ring the alarm bells of his rational brain that this was going too far—but he was quickly finding himself to be anything other than rational when it comes to this soft girl.

His girl.

And if she had a husband or boyfriend? Well, they would just have to go. He was not above playing dirty and he certainly wasn't shy to steal her away from some undeserving prick. He was sure he could soothe whatever guilt or fear she would feel cheating on her partner with his money and dick.

Two things that anyone would chase and leave behind morality.

He would never make her lonely.

Lucky for him, he had more than enough money to drown her in it and a big dick that could make her walk funny for a week.

One of his officers come up to him, to no doubt inform him about the meeting with the generals, "Sir—"

He waved her off, his feet already pivoting towards the make up shop, "Not now. Cancel the meeting and inform the generals I already have drafted a plan for new regiment."

The officers nods and politely fucks off.

Huh.

He should really increase the some of his officers, they were a smart bunch and he knew dealing with him was not easy.

The bustle of the mall fills his ears and the surprised squeaks of the ordinary civilians remind him that he's still in his Colonel uniform, scaring every poor Sky Haven city resident shopping here. He was not too worried, it was public knowledge that he alongside his father owned many business lines and the extravagant malls around the city was one example of it.

But before he can step foot near the make up shop, security guards rush past him into the shop. He frowns and a silver of worry worms into his heart as the sounds of aggrieved shop keeper reaches his ears.

Was his girl hurt? Who would even dare cause trouble in his mall knowing he was the owner of it?

"Don't deny it now!" The shop keeper, an older woman with too much make up on her face hissed at someone as he walked nearer, his evol ready at hand to apprehend whoever was causing trouble and most likely stressing his girl inside as well, "We all saw you!"

He stepped inside and he can't help the the slow raise of his eyebrow as his girl—his pretty, plump and devastatingly adorable girl—had her arms crossed as security guards all crowded her. In her hand was an expensive set of lip shimmer gloss, clutched tightly.

"I didn't!" She protested, stomping her foot like she was a queen being denied her prize, ''I—I was going to pay for it!"

His girl was caught swiping an expensive set of cosmic shimmer lip gloss apparently with her arms crossed, lower lip pushed out in defiance and she was a terrible liar. He didn't know whether to applaud or laugh at her audacity to steal from his mall which was known for it's vast and tight security.

The shop keeper gritted her teeth and pointed her finger at the little thief, "Just apprehend her. I want to press charges!"

His girl growled up like a peacock readying up for a fight, her feet shifting and her eyes narrowing in denial. Could she fight? He doubted it with her stature and muscles, his guards were all well trained to easily knock down even evol users. And she certainly was nothing like him nor an evol user.

He steps in before things get out of control, before his malls become a permeant deterrent to his girl, "Let us not be so hasty. What seems to be the issue here?"

All eyes turn on him and he barely feel any of it except for hers. Her eyes widen as they stare at him, those doe like orbs trembling slightly. He resists the urge to puff up his chest like a proud rooster presenting to his mate, cooling his expression down to mere curiosity to not give anything away.

Her gaze rakes over his uniform—the gold lapels, the blue-black insignia of the farspace fleet, the intricate embroidery of his uniform that indicated just how high up the ladder he was, the black gloves stitched with his initials in gold. Any soldier or government agent would immediately know he was a Colonel, they would know to bow in deference and obedience to his rank but ordinary civilians only saw a fancy uniform.

He gestured for the guards to give the girl breathing room.

The shop keeper gasped, the guards all gave a salute appropriating to greet a Colonel and his girl? She huffed.

He stares.

He wants to fuck her and put six babies in her.

"This place is so boring," She whined, rolling her eyes. "And it's not like I don't deserve nice things. I swear, I was going to pay for it. Is this how you treat all customers? With this poor service? Ugh!"

As the owner of the mall, he should have been furious. He should have handed her over to the guards without a second thought. But instead, like a love sick puppy he found himself staring at her—this ridiculous, arrogant girl with the most mesmerizing, doe eyes he'd ever seen.

"You do deserve nice things." He softly tells her and she startles at the tone of his voice, her attitude slipping for a second into a surprised baby look.

And it's broken by a shrill demand from the shop keeper, "Pay up then. Right here and right now."

His girl flushed like a tomato, her blush lowering down all the way to the valley of her fat breasts and he itched to yank her bra down to see just how far the blush went. But first, he needed to deal with this yammering toad beside him. And judging by how embarrassed and red his girl seemed, she truly did not have the money to pay up and was just bluffing.

Well, what are husbands for if not to cover up their wife's frivolous hobbies that could land her in jail?

His soft gaze turned stony when he turned to address the woman, "This is unacceptable behavior, miss Taylor. This young lady here is a customer and to treat her like some sort of criminal does nothing but ruin the image of the mall."

Miss Taylor gaped like she couldn't believe her ears, "What? But sir—"

He clicked his tongue, his girl staring wide eyed at the conversation, "Since the situation has escalated this far, let me propose a solution. I will pay for the young lady's things and you will apologize to her."

Miss Taylor looked ready to flip the tables around and he had the feeling she wasn't exactly sure of his power because no one disrespected him like this by protesting so he simply whips his gold and black card. The card only a few had from an exclusive bank.

Her face immediately changed and she giddily agreed while retreating to the back room, "Of course! Forgive me, young lady. I must have been mistaken. You are free to shop around and my employees will even give a gift basket as a bonus. Please, enjoy."

His girl blinked like a wet soggy cat, baffled as she turned to him—and all he can think about was how her attention was finally on him—"What was that? Are you like—like a manager?"

He swallows down a snort and nods, "Something like that."

The guards all leave at the flick of his hand and he focuses on her. She bit her lip and fidgeted, a lovely frown on her small face, "Well, I'm not saying sorry. I didn't ask for you to pay for me either."

Spoiled. So, so spoiled and absolutely bad mannered. He was in love.

Even as she said those words, she picked up a basket and began to fill it up with things. She flat out ignored his presence and drifted off into her own world, her stockings stretched like honey over her sweet legs. He followed her like a dog, unsure of what to say and wasn't that just laughable? He was tongue tied over a girl.

Him.

Let's marry sounded too sudden, how old are you would make him sound like a creep and I want bite your tits would make her scream so he simply settles for, "What's your name, miss?"

She groaned like he was inconveniencing her as she threw in another make up palate into her basket, "Wouldn't you like to know, bastard?" Then she mutters her name and he greedily drinks it in.

Her name.

It was the next best thing to staring at her ass like some pervert. He swallows down a laugh, "I'll have you know my parents were still married when I was born."

"Uh—huh."

All too soon, it's over and he's standing in front of the counter as he swipes his card. The girl snatches the up the bag and simply bites out a thanks like it hurt for her to say. She smells like candy and his teeth ached to sink into her neck.

She walks past him and he lets her, her hips swaying like a dangerous melody. After all, he needed to some planning first before setting out bait, good things are never achieved without hard work.

The first thing he does is to look into her—specifically her age. Aroused and tongue tied he may have been but blind he was not. He had seen her uniform, a school girl uniform to be exact and it didn't bode too well for his morals. He needed to know if she was too young for him and if he was going to be committing a crime.

Not that it would stop him. It simply meant his plans would need more added steps to secure what he wanted. He fucking hoped she wasn't twelve or something still, it would be awkward to explain to his father why there's a middle schooler on his lap. What would he even say?

I know you wanted grand babies from me soon enough father but my wife is a little young to carry a baby in her womb. By young I mean twelve if you missed the memo. Hope this doesn't put a damper on your retirement plans.

There's no way right? What twelve year old would have those curves? He had no choice but to redouble his efforts into looking into her. When the age seventeen stared at him from her file, he didn't know if he should thank his lucky stars or laugh into his wine at her being just a year away from being legal.

But seventeen was good. It was more than good even. She was old enough to say yes, old enough to understand his desires and certainly old enough to get knocked up. He had been so triumphed that he ignored the pain in his cybernetic arm all night that day.

And the best part? His girl kept coming back to steal from his mall. The sheer audacity of her to swipe things from the mall where she had nearly gotten caught was enough to make him so hard he needed to fuck his fist two times in his cold showers.

He puts a strict order on all shop keepers and guards to not disturb her little 'shopping' spree, to look the other way even if she made bad attempts at stealing. Of course, he compensated all shop keepers for their wares and also their silence.

He stalked her through the various cameras around the mall and shops, his holo-screen displaying all her little expressions and coos she made at little animals. He keeps all of the recordings of her, learning more about her than expected.

He never expected to find himself captivated by a thief—especially not one as insufferably vain as the girl who kept stealing from his mall. She was young, demanding and had an attitude that could rival a spoiled royal. She pouted when things didn't go her way, tossed her hair with exaggerated flair and batted her lashes like the universe owed her something.

And yet despite himself he couldn't look away.

Was this his type? Spoiled young girls? He tries to think about other spoiled young girls and the urge to break something convinces him that it was just her that he adored.

She was trouble. Entitled, difficult, completely unwilling to take responsibility for anything. And against all reason he found himself indulging her whims, letting her get away with things he never would've allowed anyone else. That really sealed it for him.

She stomped her foot when she didn't get her way, draped herself dramatically over the food court's table when she was bored, and constantly demanded attention form everyone around her. He should have resisted. But he didn't. Because somehow against all logic he had fallen for the very girl he should have thrown out.

Gods, he was pathetic.

His observation days end when he sees her walking around his mall with a boy. Not just any boy—a school boy just like her, eager eyed and trailing after her like a loser who couldn't get enough of her. She barely paid the boy any attention, rambling on and on about something in the camera but she didn't tell the boy to leave.

That there, was more than enough to make him go quiet. He barely breathes, can barely think as he watches the little shit sniff around her skirts like he was owed something. He wanted to break something, he wanted to rage, he wanted to claw the eyes out of the boy's face. 

It was bad enough that she was demanding, always whining about how unfair it was that she had to pay for luxury. It was even worse that she had this infuriating habit of stamping her dainty foot whenever she didn't get her way. But the absolute agony would be whenever she gave anyone the thought they could have her? 

How dare he? How dare she?

She was his. She belonged to him and she was letting some little fucker walk around her, breathe same air as her? It should be him trailing after her, it should be him holding her bags and fawning over her, it should be him sniffing around her skirts and trying to please her.

It should be him and only him.

The blue-purple shimmer of his evol snaps the table in front of him in half easily, his pure rage breaking the windows into one fell swoop and he barely pays any attention to it because something was trying to take his wife.

He thought he had time, that he could take it sweet and slow, ease her into this relationship. Pretty girls like her didn't react well when a man is all over them suddenly. He didn't want her to bolt and then he would run after her and then it would all tangle up into a mess. He thought he was doing the right thing.

He shouldn't have even bothered.

It was his fault—he should have snatched her up the very first day and pounded her sweet little pussy until she was pumped full of a baby, until she couldn't take his ring off her ringer, until she had no choice but to rely on him only.

He watched as she rolls her eyes at something the boy says but doesn't pull away when he tentatively grasped her pinky finger.

The shimmering, bubbling rage that overtakes all his thoughts and breath feels like a vile darkness emerging from inside him.

Was she this easy then? Did she let any needy, pathetic sniveling boy with a small dick near her?

This wouldn't do.

This wouldn't do at all.

It's easy to corner her in the bathroom.

His officers have already dragged the boy away to some place he wouldn't follow because he was not sure how he would react if he saw the boy now. He wasn't sure if he could even control his powers in time.

The bathroom is empty except for her washing her hands and he steps inside, locking the door with flick of his evol. She startles at the sight of him, yelping when he stood behind her.

"What are you doing?" Her eyes flutter with recognition but her confusion wins through, "This is the ladies room, you can't just—"

"You stole a lip gloss again an hour ago," He cuts through her bullshit, "And unless you want to be slapped with a felony, you're going to answer all of my questions."

She gapes. Literally gapes at him like a fish out of water. She blinks rapidly and spews out with those glossy red lips, "What? I haven't stolen shit. You can't prove anything!"

His sharp inhale was audible in the small space, the kind of breath that gets caught between amusement and sheer, undeniable arousal. His purple eyes—usually so quick to dart away in polite detachment—remained fixed, drinking in the sight of her flustered movements, the way her hands fluttered like nervous birds trying to cover what he'd already memorized.

"Is that so?" He steps closer, crowding her against the sink and the sight of her so small against him makes him see red, "No proof? What would you call this then, miss little thief?"

His hand raised up to display the holo screen on his cybernetic arm—showing casing his little sweetheart's horrible and painfully obvious shop lifting over the various weeks.

The reaction is instant; a tiny little meep from her cute mouth and the paling of her beautiful face. He almost wants to coo at her.

"Sing me a different song, pipsqueak." He whispers, "Because the tune I have been hearing so far? That's not going to cut it."

The girlish perfume of strawberry gloss and vanilla lotion clung to the air mixing with something muskier, something unmistakably her. He knew he should be a gentleman and let her experience live like any other girl. He knew he was doing something mother's warn their pretty girls about. But the way her kitten heels wobbled as she scrambled back, how the thin fabric of her skirt rode higher up her thighs —his willpower unraveled faster than one of Sylus's prisoners under Sylus's hands.

"That's not—" Her sweet voice wobbled like she was going to cry but her eyes narrowed like an angry kitten's, "That's not me. What—what do you even want from me? And I'm not some pipsqueak."

The holo screen replayed her crimes again, the erratic lighting across her terrified-pretty face. His mouth curled at the edges, that infamous Colonel's smile creeping loose despite himself.

"I want a lot of things, pipsqueak. But first—who is that boy with you?" He took back his cybernetic arm and crossed his arms over his chest, as if this was an interrogation.

She was all soft curves and manicured edges, her pretty eyes widening and her mouth falling apart like she didn't expect that question of all things. Still she answered with an honest pout, "Him? Numen? He's my classmate. Apparently he wants to buy something for his sister and wanted my help."

He gave a dry chuckle. Ah, so his girl was a little dumb in the head, wasn't she? Needed help buying something for his sister? Please. The boy wanted to fuck the juicy cunt of his girl and it was obvious. But not to his girl—no, she was all too warped up in her own world to pay any attention to her surroundings.

And it worked just fine for him. In fact, this was better than anything he hoped for. It meant she wasn't looking at anyone yet, it meant he could make her look at him.

"Please," She suddenly pleaded, her bravado falling apart the longer he went being quiet, "Please don't tell anyone. It's just makeup, I didn't steal anything else. I promise! I'll do anything! You—you even helped me that time, remember? You're kind. Can't you be kind just once more?"

Kind.

Her words should evoke pity in him, it should make him stop whatever he was doing and let the sweet thing go. But he is just a man and men do what they always do whenever they want something. Or rather, someone.

He softly coos at her. She was different. She was the kind of girl who probably blushed when men held doors open for her, who practiced her pout in the mirror just to see how it looked. And yet here she was, caught with her nails glossy and her teary eyes, begging him not to tell a soul.

"You'll do anything?" His voice was rougher than intended, like stone scraping against the too quiet of the bathroom. He rocked back slightly on his heels, staying planted right where he was and blocking the exit without it seeming intentional.

She nodded like a hen pecking seeds.

He forced his face to remain playful. That was what young girls often melted under. But there was nothing innocent about the way his gaze dipped to the valley of her tits, the fabric barely covering her there and he groaned inside of his mind. "You should be careful sweetheart. Saying things like that to a man will give him ideas."

God, she was every kind of tempting—the kind of girl who knew she was pretty and dressed for it, all soft skirts and delicate fingers but there was something arousing in the way her breath hitched, in the way her chest rose and fell just a little too fast. She looked like sin dipped in honey, and he was starving.

"I can—I can work for you or clean your house." She prattled on, wide eyed and pleading, "I'm good at house work."

His free hand scrubbed over his mouth, hiding the grin that refused to stay tamped down, "Are you now? Do you cook and fold laundry well?"

She nodded furiously again. She was practically vibrating with panic, all wide doe eyes and trembling lip gloss. He should reassure her. He should apologize and retreat like a gentleman.

But the adrenaline of finally having her nearby—the sheer wrongness of it—sent a familiar thrill humming through his veins. Missions gone sideways, fights won by the skin of his teeth against other evol users, the split second before his fight plane caught the atmosphere—this was that same gravity pulse, that same hunger for the edge.

And she was standing right on it with him.

"And children? Do you take care of children well?" His voice turned huskier, trying to image her soft hands fussing over a baby on her hip and another one in her belly.

"Of course!" She piped up like a baby bird, "I baby sit quite a lot."

The heel of his palm pressed against the front of his pants, adjusting subtly. Fuck. He hadn't been hard when he walked in but he sure as hell was now. The fabric strained against his cock, betraying him just as much as her sticky fingers and love for stealing had betrayed her.

If his father ever found out about this, he would never hear the end of it. The great Colonel of the farspace fleet, brought low by a civilian in mini skirt and caked make up all over her face. Though really, there was nothing low about the way his blood roared south, nothing civil about the images flooding his mind—bending her over that sink, hearing those heels scrape against his calves as he—

"You must be the quite reliable girl around the neighborhood. I'm sure you must have perfect grades and ready to soar to college." He drawled, deliberately making sure she felt his body heat against hers. His voice dropped, taking on that commanding cadence—the one that made witnesses want to confess everything and generals want to punch him.

She preened slightly, so easily distracted by his nice words.

"I mean, I would feel quite terrible if I ruined your future like this." He tilted his head, letting his gloved hand trace up her legs slowly. "And it really is just a few pieces of make up, is not princess? So how about we both help each other?"

The nickname slipped out before he could stop it and fuck, it fit her too well—she was a princess, all soft edges and carefully painted nails but right now she looked like she wanted to melt into the tent floor from embarrassment.

God, she was adorable. And the worst part? He liked seeing her like this—flustered, off-balance, real. He'd seen her with other people; always preening under compliments, always making sure every strand of hair was perfectly in place. But now? Now she was stuck between him and it was the most delicious thing he'd ever witnessed.

The air between them thickened, the scent of his arousal mixing with the sweat beading down her neckline. He could see the exact moment she registered his erection, her doe eyes flicking down and back up so fast it might've been imaginary.

Her little whimper suggested otherwise. Neither was the way her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip. His fingers flexed around her thigh, the soft skin dipping under his grip.

Two could play at this game though she would soon understand he always held the cards.

"You want to have sex with me." She breathed out almost quietly. His fingers trailed up to her hip and he let the darkened gaze of his eyes drawn to her tits speak for him.

She could bolt. She probably should though he knew if she did, he would let her.

Perhaps.

Maybe.

Fuck, who was he kidding—he would catch her before she made it two steps. The thought of those stupid sexy heels stumbling in the polished floor, of her falling into his arms all helpless and flustered?

Yeah. He would catch her.

"My princess is so smart." He nudged her ankles apart aside with his foot, not breaking eye contact. "What is it going to be pipsqueak? Will you help make sure the recordings are all conveniently lost? Or am I walking out of here with a story to tell?" His grin turned eerie. "Option one's looking real good from where I'm standing."

Her lips tremble and her hand grips the counter tile behind her. It's a damn good offer to anyone with a working brain and the positives out weigh the negatives greatly. She would be ruined if he pressed charges himself, she would lose all those years she spent studying, she would lose the trust and respect of those around her.

She would lose everything.

And by the way her eyes watered again, she knew it too. There was really only one choice when it came down to it.

"Why—why should I? You could have diseases! I'm not giving my first time away just to get sick by you!" She snapped back, that kitty ferocity raring it's pretty head towards a panther circling her.

His eyebrows shot up as her princess attitude slotted back into place like a shield, her nervousness momentarily eclipsed by that familiar haughty pout. Virgin? Oh, this just got ten times more interesting. 

This was better than anything he expected. His grip on the her thigh loosened slightly as his pulse hammered against his ribs. She was virginal, untouched yet here she was wearing these skimpy clothes as if to tease every red blooded man in her vicinity. The contradiction sent a fresh wave of heat straight to his cock.

His gaze flicked down to where her hands were now clutching her purse like a shield, those manicured nails digging into the expensive fabric. She was all bark, no bite—a kitten pretending to be a lion. And Caleb always had a soft spot for strays.

He remembered that first meeting clearly—her fussing over a basket full of make up, those plush lips curling in displeasure like he had committed a mortal sin for not getting her more make up even though she only got away because of him. Back then, she had been all sharp edges and scoffing remarks, the kind of girl who acted like the world owed her worship.

But beneath that spoiled exterior, he had caught glimpses of something softer—the way she cooed at puppies, how she would absentmindedly fixed a toddler's crooked bow in the mall. A princess with a secret bleeding heart, hidden under layers of vanity and sass.

He was so in love it hurt.

She was spitfire and fluster, all big doe eyes and rapid breaths, trying to act like she wasn't terrified of where this was heading.

He couldn't help but chuckle low in his throat, the sound rough with amusement, "A disease? Sweetheart, I haven't even graced the bed of another since forever." His free hand lifted, brushing an imaginary piece of lint off his uniform just to watch her eyes follow the movement.

She could pretend all she liked but she was looking. He was quite handsome and kept his body fit through his daily trainings as a Colonel. He was far more like a man than any of her snot faced classmates, he was more than enough to stroke her ego of getting a real man.

He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, "I can always wear a condom. Or two. Or however times we fuck."

He let the sentence hang, smile widening as her nostrils flared. She was mad now, that pretty face twisting in outrage at his audacity, and god, it was adorable. She looked like a kitten puffing up to scare a rottweiler. He could practically see the wheels turning in that pampered little head—should she slap him? Storm out? Or if the way her thighs subtly pressed together was any indication should she take him up on his very generous offer?

"You're awful." She flared out, shaking like a vibrating kitten whose blanket got stolen as her eyes drifted down to his hard on, "You awful, terrible, horrible man—"

He pressed against her even more, deliberately crowding her space and making sure she felt all of him. The air smelled like her shampoo and something warmer, muskier like her slick and it took every ounce of his self-control not to bury his face in the curve of her neck right then. She was so short. So small compared to him. He could pick her up and fuck her against the bathroom wall easily, could wrap her thighs around his waist and—

"You know," He mused, tilting his head, "For someone who thinks I'm an awful man, you're sure staring at my dick a lot."

"I was not—" She gasped scandalously.

"You were." His voice was huskier now with less playfulness and more hungry, "Are you curious about how a real dick looks like? Something that's not on the porn videos you watch?"

He let his gaze drop deliberately to where her skirt had ridden up, the damp fabric clinging to her inner thighs. He'd seen enough. He knew what she'd been doing. And judging by the blush creeping down her chest, she knew he knew.

He wasn't a saint. He'd never claimed to be. But even he had some moral compass—usually. Right now though with her looking up at him like he was both the threat and the solution to her problem, that compass was spinning wildly.

She was a brat. A spoiled, bratty little princess who thought she could boss him around even when she was the one who'd been caught stealing red handed—

"Go fuck yourself." Her head tilted back, "You're a pervert, a self serving perfect trying to take advantage of me."

His tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, stifling a groan. He wanted to ruin her, wanted to peel that stupid skirt off with his teeth and show her exactly what real pleasure felt like. Wanted to make her forget whatever clumsy attempts she made at feeling pleasure with her own fingers before he saw her.

So he pushed. Just a little.

"I'm the pervert?" He gripped her chin softly, his glove feeling the warmth of her skin seep through, "You're the one walking around in those slutty scraps of clothing flashing your tits to every walking man. You're just begging for a real man to come and fix your attitude, aren't you?"

The second the words left his mouth, he knew he had gone too far. Her whole body stiffened, those big brown eyes widening in shock—and fuck, maybe hurt?

He winced internally.

Shit.

He'd meant to rile her up, not actually upset her. Before he could backtrackthough, her palm cracked against his cheek hard enough to make his head snap to the side.

For a second, they both froze.

Then he laughed.

He couldn't help it. The sheer indignation on her face, the slap itself—it was like something out of a damn rom-com. His jaw stung but the pain barely registered over the absurdity of the situation. Here he was,  getting bitch-slapped in a bathroom by a virgin who barely came up to his shoulders.

It was hilarious.

His laughter trailed off as he rubbed his jaw, grin still firmly in place, "Okay, ow." He didn't sound sorry at all, "Guess you do have a temper under all that lip gloss."

"And I'll fucking do it again! Watch!" She reeled back again to slap him hard.

His fingers caught her wrist before she could slap him again, holding her gently but firmly, "Another charge can be used against you now that you just assaulted a Colonel—" His thumb stroked the inside of her pulse point, feeling her heartbeat race as she registered his words, "—I think you owe me at least one free pass to be an asshole."

"You're a Colonel?" Her voice dropped down to something small, something afraid and his stomach twisted slightly. He wanted to mess with her and see her yowl like an angry kitten not shrink away in pure fear.

"A Colonel who wants to help you. A Colonel who has enough power to make it all go away if you do what I'm asking. You're a good girl and good girls listen to their elders, do they not?"

She stiffened but nodded slowly, the tension of fear slipping away from her shoulders slightly. Good girl. She squares up and sniffles back her tears, acting like a big girl, "Okay—okay. Okay. But you can't touch my pussy. Or kiss! Kisses are for when I get my first boyfriend! You're not my boyfriend."

His entire body went still at her counter offer, his brain short circuiting and smoking for a split second before catching back up.

She wanted him to take her ass, not her pussy—because she was saving that like some romantic gesture towards her first boyfriend? The absurdity of it almost made him laugh again. Almost. Until he pictured it—her bent over, whimpering, taking him in that tight little hole while her cunt stayed untouched and pristine just like she wanted.

God.

His cock throbbed like it was trying to escape his pants just from the mental image alone. Maybe he could slip in a little kiss or two when he was done pounding her into the bed, maybe he could convince her to let him slide his dick inside her pussy if he showed her just how good it could be.

"Oh, you precious thing," He murmured, his voice low and buzzing with amusement. He couldn't help it—she was just so fucking adorable, standing there all puffed up like she had won some grand negotiation, not realizing she has just handed him the exact fantasy he hadn't even known he wanted.

"I'm not your precious anything." She made a 'grr' sound at him which he politely ignored.

His free hand; the one not still gripping her thigh like an idiot reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering just a second too long against the delicate shell. She flinched, but didn't pull away.

Bit by bit, touch by touch, he could unravel her like a luring away a spider from her nest.

"No pussy," He repeated slowly, as if testing the words on his tongue. He grinned when her nose scrunched up at his crude phrasing. "No kissing. Just your tight little ass and a condom." He clicked his tongue, "Princess, you drive a hard bargain. You should be glad I am an easy man to please."

Only for her though.

"Take it or leave it." She raised her nose up, like giving a snooty huff.

His gaze dipped to her mouth, glossy and pink and begging to be kissed—rules be fucking damned. He wondered if she would melt if he took her first kiss with teeth and tongue and enough passion to melt that spoiled little attitude right out of her. But no, she was saving that too, wasn't she? Saving everything for some theoretical boyfriend who probably didn't exist—because what man could meet her ridiculous standards?

He could. So easily.

Part of him wanted to push right now to see just how far he could bend her rules before they broke like glass but another part og him, the part that liked how feisty she was, how unapologetic wanted to play by them. He wanted to see if she would stick to her prissy rules when he was knuckle-deep in her ass.

"Alright sweetheart, you got yourself a deal," He held up a finger, as if suddenly remembering something vital. "But I get to decide everything else. And you—" He tapped her nose, grinning when she swatted at his hand, "—you don't get to complain when it hurts."

Because it would hurt. He wasn't cruel—he would prep her properly, make sure she could take him but there was no way her first time wasn't going to sting, especially back there. Especially when she was coiled so tight with tension, her whole body practically vibrating with nerves.

He coaxes her out of the bathroom to take her to his private room in the mall. And yes, he had invested in those because some days he would rather hear the bustle of the people outside the mall after a mission than stay in his empty penthouse where no one had laughed in years.

Patience. He would fill his home with laughter soon enough from tiny mouths.

Her eyes are wide staring at the expensive decorations and lavish furniture, the private space pressing down on her with more questions than answers. Before she can mouth off to him and yammer about him being the one percent of the society's wealth, he tugs her to his bedroom.

"First things first," He drawled, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his uniform pants. "Let's get these off before you change your mind."

He tugged them down in one smooth motion, kicking them aside without breaking eye contact. His cock sprang free, already half-hard just from the sheer audacity of this situation. Her sharp inhale was priceless. Her gaze dropped immediately, then snapped back up then dropped again like she couldn't help herself.

"What in the—"

He swallowed a laugh down at her startled kitten look. Yeah, he wasn't small and judging by the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, she was just realizing exactly what she'd signed up for.

"Second," He continued, reaching into the drawer nearby to fish out what she had primly demanded, "Here's the condom you so kindly requested."

She flicked her imaginary glasses on her eyes and sniffed, "Protection is always good! Why, they never teach you that in school? Mine did. Perhaps you're not as smart or strong like you're making yourself out to be."

He made a show of playing with the condom, grinning when she huffed impatiently, "Relax, pipsqueak. I'm meticulous about protection." He pulled out the foil packet, waving it tauntingly between two fingers, "Unless you want me raw?"

Her scandalized gasp was delicious, "Disgusting pervert—"

He chuckled, tearing the packet open with his teeth because if he was going to do this, he was doing it right and rolling the condom down his dick with practiced ease. He gave himself a slow stroke, just to watch her eyes darken and just to remind her exactly what she was dealing with.

"Now," He murmured, crowding her backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed, "Let's see if you can handle me, huh?"

And then because he was a gentleman for his girl, rules or not he dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands sliding up her thighs to grip her hips.

"I need to prep you first," He explained, grinning at the confusion on her face. "You don't want to bleed all over my bed, do you? I don't mind. I'll lick it up or maybe frame it on my wall."

Her adamant headshake was all the answer he needed. His grin turned wolfish as he leaned in, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the trembling skin of her inner thigh.

"Good girl."

She say on the bed and spread her legs slightly, her hands contemplative before they took off her skirt and her panties. She flushed red like a tomato, "I haven't shaved. If you're gonna make fun of me then I'll just leave."

His breath hitched audibly as she spread herself open before him, her plush thighs framing that perfect untouched little cunt like an offering. The sight of her being so hazy eyed and pouting, makeup still flawless despite the way her chest rose and fell too quickly sent a fresh wave of heat straight to his already aching cock. Shaved? Unshaved?

Lord, he couldn't care less. She was bare before him, vulnerable. She was letting him stare at her pretty pussy and perfect little hole.

His thumbs dug into the soft flesh of her inner thighs, holding her open as he drank in the sight of her. Curls framed her pussy, slightly unruly but deliciously natural, the kind of thing that made his mouth water. And her lips—god, they were perfect plush and slick, glistening with nervousness she couldn't hide no matter how hard she tried to play aloof. His tongue ached to taste her, to drag flat and slow over that pretty little hole just to hear her gasp. But rules were rules. No pussy. No kissing. Just her tight, virgin ass waiting for him.

"Make fun of you?" His voice came out lower than intended, scraping against the air between them. He exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing his grip on her thighs to loosen before he left bruises, "Baby, you're fucking gorgeous like this."

His thumb drifted higher, brushing just barely against the outer edge of her pussy folds not touching where she wanted, just hovering. "All messy and natural and real."

He couldn't resist leaning in, dragging his nose along the inside of her thigh just to feel her shiver. She smelled incredible, musky and sweet like arousal and vanilla lotion and her. If he couldn't taste her, he could at least breathe her in and let the scent of her sear itself into his memory for later.

"No pussy," She warned him again.

"I know. Since you're being so generous," He murmured against her skin, lips ghosting over the sensitive flesh, "I guess I'll have to make do with these instead." His hands slid up her torso, catching the hem of her top and pushing it up to reveal that lacy black bra he'd been fantasizing about earlier. His mouth watered at the sight of her nipples, already hard and straining against the fabric.

"Stop staring at them, you—you weirdo!"

"Fuck, look at you," He groaned, palming her tits through the lace. 

She arched into his touch with a tiny gasp, and he grinned. Yeah, she liked that, liked being handled by a powerful man. 

He flicked his thumb over one nipple, watching her breath stutter, "I'm gonna suck these pretty tits until you're dripping, pipsqueak. Until you're so wet I can slick up that tight little ass without even touching your pussy."

Her face flushed even more at his crude words; his dirty talk making her thighs twitch and a chuckle rise from his chest at the reaction.

He made good on his promise immediately, mouth closing over one nipple and sucking hard. She jerked beneath him, a choked off whimper slipping past her lips as he bit the stiff peak with his teeth. Her hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands like it was the first time she had ever felt these sensations. He hummed in approval, switching to the other breast and giving it the same treatment. Her back arched off the bed with her hips rolling in a desperate little circle seeking friction, seeking anything. 

He huffed against her skin, nipping at the swell of her tit before soothing it with his tongue. "That's it, baby. Just like that. Fucking grind on me if you need to—I know you're aching right now."

"Feels weird," Her whimper was filthy, high and breathy and perfect, "My stomach's tingling." 

His dick twitched against his thigh, the condom feeling tighter by the second. Fuck, he wanted to ruin her, wanted to see how loud she would scream when he finally bottomed out inside her.

Reluctantly pulling away from her tits, he reached down to swipe two fingers through the slick gathered at her pussy—not dipping inside, just skimming the surface and collecting enough to ease the way for her ass. He made sure she saw it, made sure she watched as his glistening fingers trailed lower circling that tiny clenched hole.

"It's a good feeling. You'll understand soon enough." 

"Liar! Liar! I hate you! All of this feels weird!" She kicked out and whined, sniffling like he had done her a disservice. He sighed inwardly but kept going because he would like to claim her as soon as possible. 

His breath hitched as he felt her body arch against his hand, his finger buried knuckle deep in her ass while his thumb continued to grind  circles over her clit. She was a mess—her pampered mask cracking with every choked gasp, her legs trembling like a fawn even as her hips jerked greedily into his touch. 

"It only feels weird because you're so tight. But I am glad you are, it means you haven't let anyone inside these precious little holes." 

He hadn't lied about her being tight. Her ass clung to him like a hot glove, and the way she clenched around his finger when he curled it? 

Holy shit. 

If her ass felt this good on a single finger, he might not survive the main event.

"There you go," He purred, adding a second finger beside the first and stretching her with exercised slowness. Her whimper was sharp, almost pained, but he didn't stop and he couldn't stop. 

Not when her slick was dripping down his wrist, not when her cunt pulsed visibly with every breath from her lungs. He pressed his forehead to her soft thigh, teeth grazing skin as he fought the urge to bite, "You're made for this, princess. If only you could see yourself taking cock like a fucking champion."

Maybe he could film it one day. He could pan the camera to her sweet face leaking tears, diamond streaks of her pleasure visible and he could safe guard all the tapes so he could watch it on missions. 

He scissored his fingers, stretching her wider, watching her thighs shake with the strain. "How's that feel? Too much?"

She gave a small meep, "Yes! Stop it! Take your hand off me you psycho pervert!" 

He of course didn't listen to her, twisting his wrist to brush over that sweet spot inside her. Her back bowed off the bed, a broken moan tearing from her throat and he smirked against her leg. "Yeah, that spot. I bet no one's ever touched you there, huh? I bet you didn't even know you had it."

He wasn't sure how advanced kids were these days but he sure as hell didn't know about that spot inside of women until one time Gideon gifted him a suspicious box filled with manuals on how to pleasure women every where. The son of a bitch always teased him about not having any girls like he would just randomly fuck a woman just for the sake of it. 

No, no, he was not someone who would touch someone intimately for mere gratification. He wanted it to be full of love and he was so in love now. 

Her hands fisted in his hair, tugging hard enough to sting but he barely registered the pain. How could he when her body was preening for him? Her ass was milking his fingers like she would die if he stopped. He added a third finger with his own cock aching inside the condom at how her hole fluttered around the finger. 

She was so small, so fucking tight. If he didn't get inside her soon, he would—

"Look at me," He growled, dragging his gaze up her body to lock with hers. Her eyes were glazed, lips parted in a whimper but she obeyed. Those doe eyes-brown flickering with panic and want. He pressed his thumb harder against her clit, relishing her full body twitch, "You're gonna come now. And when you do, I'm gonna fuck you so deep you'll feel me tomorrow. Got it?"

She nodded frantically, her chest heaving and he rewarded her with a rough twist of his fingers. Her orgasm hit her like a truck—back arching, toes curling, a ragged cry tearing loose as she grind herself against his hand. He watched almost mesmerized as her cunt pulsed uselessly, slick spilling over his knuckles while her ass clenched around his fingers. 

Fuck. She was a gem.

He didn't give her time to recover. 

He withdrew his fingers slowly, ignoring her whine of protest and wiped them clean on the edge of her skirt. His other hand gripped her hip, hauling her closer to the edge of the bed until her ass was perched dangerously on the mattress. He lined himself up, the condom clad tip of his dick pressing against her abused hole, and paused.

"You're about to lose your virginity," He breathed out, his voice trembling with restraint. His muscles quivered, thighs taut like a well oiled gun but he held still, "No second thoughts princess?"

Let me see that resistance. Let me see that reluctance so I can cower you into submission until you pretty yourself only for me. 

"Just—Just do it," Her pretty eyes water and her lips quivered like she was about to cry all over again, "You'll tell on me if I don't do this. So just—"

He had her. He didn't need more. He buried himself in one long thrust.

Fuck. 

She screamed. 

She was scorching hot and impossibly tight, her body fighting him every inch even as she took him deeper. He groaned, low and guttural with him dropping his forehead to her shoulder as he bottomed out. Sweat dripped down his spine, his hands shaking where they gripped her hips. 

"Pipsqueak, you're killing me," He rasped, his voice barely human, "Fucking—relax, princess. Breathe."

"It hurts!" She hit his chest with small fists, trying to kick out but was held down by his muscled arms, "Take it out! It hurts too much! I'm going to kill you!" 

It took everything in him not to move, not to fuck her into the mattress until neither of them could think. But he waited—waited for her muscles to unclench, waited for her choked gasp to even out. Sweat dripped onto the valley of her breasts and he gritted his teeth, hyper aware of the sticky blood coating his dick. 

"Shhh, shhh, princess. It's just for a bit. Be a good girl and bear for it for me," He whispered against her ears, feeling her trembling and shake under his weight. 

He pulled out slowly, savoring the drag of her walls around him then slammed back in. Her cry was sharp with half pain and he set a brutal pace, each thrust obscene by the slap of skin and the creak of the bed. He'd never been with a woman, never this hungry but he wanted so bad and he couldn't stop now. 

Her legs hooked around his waist, heels digging into his lower back and she couldn't seem to decide himself if she wanted him deeper or out. 

"That's it," He snarled, fingers bruising her hips as he angled her higher, "There's my bossy little princess," 

"Colonel," She wept freely, her sweet little face pinched up and scrunched like she ate something unpleasant and her stomach quivered with every move he made inside her. 

"Caleb, pipsqueak. Call your man Caleb." He fucked her like he fought—relentless, precise, every movement made to destroy. Her ass gripped him like a vice, her body adapting to each pounding thrust until her cries turned high and desperate, her hands scrambling for purchase on the bed sheets.

"Caleb."

"Good girl." 

He reached between them, thumb finding her clit again and pressed down hard. Her second orgasm flew  through her, her scream echoing off the penthouse walls as her ass clamped down on his dick like a fucking noose. He followed her with it, hips stuttering as he emptied himself into the condom, vision whiting out at the sheer intensity of it.

Fuck. Holy fuck. 

He collapsed forward, catching himself on his elbows to avoid crushing her with his breath coming in ragged gasps. She was limp beneath him, her chest flushed and gleaming with sweat, mascara smudged beneath her eyes. He brushed a knuckle over her cheek, his usual smirk absent and replaced by something dangerously close to awe.

He love hers. He wants her forever. 

"Now, that wasn't so bad was it now?" He murmured, voice wrecked from fucking for the first time. His hips gave a jerk, still buried inside her and she whined softly. "We both got what we wanted."

"Oh god," She panted out, chest heaving and staring at the ceiling like it held all her answers, "I just had sex. I just had sex with a man. My mom is going to kill me if she finds out." 

He snorted, "I'm sure she would be more worried about a criminal record. Though now you can rest your pretty head and leave all the heavy lifting to your man."

His own chest rose and fell with breaths as he withdrew, his cock glistening with remnants of her slick and blood. He discarded the condom with a flick of his wrist, the latex landing somewhere in the shadows of the room. His gaze dragged hungrily over her ravished form—mascara smeared, cheeks flushed, her kitten heels still clinging stubbornly to her feet. 

The sight of her ass, swollen and gaping faintly sent a fresh pulse of heat through him. 

"C'mon, princess," He coaxed, his voice like gravel against river as he knelt beside her. His fingers trailed up her thigh, skimming the edge of her skirt where it rolled around her waist. "I just want a little more and I'll give you a nice gift." He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear, "You owe me a cleanup."

She turned her face away with a huff, that haughty pout back in full force but he didn't miss the tremor in her shoulders or the way her breath hitched when his thumb brushed her lower lip, "What gift? You're just trying to scam me aren't you? Mom warned me about men like you! You're a player!" 

 He grinned, all teeth and caught her chin between his fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze, "Don't give me that bratty act. The gift will make you happy I promise. And you love attention—always primping, preening, making sure every hair in place." His grip tightened, just enough to make her whimper, "So here's your spotlight, sweetheart. Show me how pretty you look with my dick in your mouth."

Her nose wrinkled, but her lips parted slightly—a cat tempted by the fat mouse in front of her house, "Promise? I'll bite you if you're lying to me." 

He took the opening in her statement, shifting closer until his half-hard cock nudged her cheek, "I promise. I wouldn't be a colonel if I didn't make good on my promises. Come on, open that pretty mouth for me," He crooned, tugging her hair gently to tilt her head back.  He dragged his tip across her gloss-sticky lips, leaving a faint smear. 

"Well, if you say so..." She hesitated, her brows furrowing in that spoiled, princessy way he'd seen her use on cashiers a dozen times. His smiled widened. He'd dealt with far wilier adversaries than a lip gloss loving girl. His free hand slid down to palm her breast, thumb circling her nipple through the lace of her bra. 

She mewled. 

His fingers tightened in her hair, "You're not scared, are you?" He taunted, dragging his cock lower to trace the line of her jaw, "It's a little bit of dick sucking. I'll teach you what to do, baby. Hmm, maybe you're just all talk and pretty face."

The insult to her vanity worked like a charm, "How dare you—I'll make you eat your words." 

With a scoff, she surged forward with teeth grazing his dick head in a show of fury that made him hiss but he wasn't about to let her play bully. He twisted her hair around his fist, tugging her head back sharply, "Ah-ah. No biting unless I say so." 

"I wasn't biting," She pouted, looking like a cute kitty wanting to be pet. He softened. Damn his heart. 

His other hand slid between her thighs, fingers skating over her slick cunt. "Okay, okay. I believe my pretty girl."

Her thighs clamped around his wrist instinctively, but he didn't stop, rubbing slow circles against her clit until her resistance wavered. Her mouth opened wider, tongue darting out to lick tentatively at his tip. The sensation was feather light, like a cat licking a treat and he groaned, "There you go," He encouraged, easing his grip on her hair, "Just like a lollipop, hm? Take me in a little deeper."

His hips rolled forward, pushing past her lips until the head of his dick hit the back of her throat. She gagged, tears springing to her eyes but he held her still, "Breathe through your nose, princess. You can take it." His thumb stroked her cheek, smudging her blush, "Slowly suckle it like it's candy and taste all of it."

Her muffled whine vibrated around him, and his head fell back with a groan. She was tight, her throat fluttering around him like she was made for it. He fucked her mouth in shallow thrusts, his free hand groping her breast roughly, "That's it. You're such a fast learner. I'm sure you always get top grades in school."

The praise made her preen and he knew he was right to praise her. A snooty, self important and spoiled girl like her would adore praises. 

Saliva dripped down her chin, her mascara now in streaks. Her nails dug into his thighs as she struggled to keep up. He grinned down at her, sweat beading at his temples. "I knew you would be good at this. Instead of mouthing off at poor shop keepers, you should be mouthing my dick real sweet."

Her eyes flicked up, meeting his with a glare that could melt steel. He chuckled, dragging his dick  out until only the tip rested on her tongue. "What? Want me to praise you again instead of making fun of you?" He thrust back in hard, hitting her gag reflex again, "Good girl. Such a perfect little cock slut for me."

She whimpered, the sound going straight to his dick and he lost what little restraint he had left. He fucked her face in earnest roughness now, his grip hard with hips pistoning as her throat stretched to accommodate him. The room filled with the lewd sounds of her choked gasps, his ragged breathing, the obscene slap of skin on skin. He was close—so fucking close—and he wanted her to feel it.

"Swallow it all, baby." He growled, his balls tightening, "It's your first blowjob, wouldn't want to miss out on all of the experience."

She whimpered with a high pitch, her feet kicking restlessly and her hands scrambling at his thighs as he used her throat for his dick. 

When he came, it was with her name on his lips and her tears on his skin, her throat working desperately around him as he spilled. He held her there until he was spent, until her whimpers turned to weak wet coughs. Only then did he pull out, watching with dark satisfaction as she collapsed back onto the bed, chest heaving with her lips swollen and glistening.

Good. He had her ass and her mouth. If only he could get her pesky little rules away and ruin that pretty little pussy too. 

He leaned over her, brushing a thumb over her ruined makeup, "You did so well. Just go get some sleep for now, okay? I'll have the gift ready when you wake up." He cooed, scooping her into his arms before she could reply, "Sleep." 

The gift was delivered in the morning and it was a set of dresses that made her squeal. 

He chuckled as he flipped the pancakes on the stove, the sizzle of butter filling the kitchen while he listened to her cooing over the gift. The way she jumped around in those ridiculous heels was nothing short of adorable. He had expected the theatrics, of course. His spoiled princess wasn't the type to suffer or celebrate in silence, especially not when she could milk his guilt and money for all it was worth.

"This is the exclusive new set from the spring collection!" She gasped, "How did you even get your hands on this?"

"I have my ways," He casually replied back, "Come here. Here's some orange juice." 

The sight of her freshly showered and meticulously put back together almost made his dick hard again. Even now, hours after thoroughly ruining her, she still tried to show that she had the upper hand—the slight wince in her step, the way her thighs rubbed together uncomfortably, the faintest shakes in her hands when she reached for the orange juice. 

His scent clung to her skin no matter how much of that expensive shampoo she used from his bathroom, and the knowledge that she would be walking around smelling like him all day made his chest rumble with satisfaction.

Bit by bit, he would have her.

"I want more gifts." She puffed up her cheeks like a hamster again. 

"Oh? I can give them to you at a cost." He said dryly, sliding a perfectly golden pancake onto her plate. He didn't miss the way her eyes flicked to his hands—the same hands that had pinned her down and fucked her ass just hours earlier—before darting away with a huff. 

"Consider it a special privilege just for you." His voice dropping as he leaned in, deliberately crowding her space. "You want to be my sugar baby?"

The flush that spread across her cheeks at his words was worth every second of her morning pouting. He watched with barely concealed amusement as she shifted from foot to foot, those killer heels making her already unsteady stance even more unsteady. He could practically see the war waging behind her doe eyes—her spoiled pride demanding she leave him behind and taking the new offer.

"What do I have to do?" She asked a bit nervously, "I'm telling you, I won't play around your friends." 

The thought of anyone else touching her made him see red but he contained it to not scare her away right now. His girl was like a shy kitten after all. 

He turned back to the stove to hide his frown, pouring more batter onto the hot surface. He could see her looking at him—him cooking breakfast shirtless with fresh scratches down his back, her walking around his kitchen like a cooing pleased girl. He could still see the faint bruises on her inner thighs if he looked closely enough, the marks his teeth had left on her neck barely hidden by her hair when she had fallen asleep.

The memory of how she'd felt so tight and warm and all his girl—made his dick twitch in his sweatpants. He forced himself to focus on the food but the knowledge that she could probably still feel him inside her, that he could have her be squirming in her skirt everyday if she accepted was doing absolutely nothing to help his self control.

"It's very simple. You'll just have to keep me company whenever I ask and I'll spoil you endlessly," He said casually, as if discussing the weather rather than the fact that he was proposing a sugar baby-daddy deal with a seventeen year old. He flipped the pancake with ease, not even glancing her way when she made a curious noise. "But we'll be exclusive. No boyfriends, no entertaining other men, not even looking at other men with interest. Up for it?"

"That's it? Just company?" She perked up with her eyes sparkling. It sounded so easy to her. Just keep this older colonel company and she could have whatever she wanted. She had heard of sugar babies and how they buy whatever they wanted. 

He finally turned to face her fully, taking in the way her plush lips pursed in that signature pout, the way her arms crossed under her heavy breasts to push them up even more. God, she was a vision with all soft skin and designer clothes and that infuriatingly perfect makeup that somehow survived everything. The fact that she had taken the time to reapply her lipstick after getting fucked in the ass and giving a blowjob last night was so much her that it made his chest ache.

"And sex, of course. You'll have full access to credit cards and other privileges. I can assign a private driver for you to shop around or play around the city when I'm on missions. I can even get you free scholarships from the fleet's program." He lay down the terms, sweetening the deal with whatever he could throw in. 

His wife (soon to be) needed to be reeled in by temptation. 

"I'm not sure. What if you like, murder me? What if you don't give me gifts if I can't make you happy? And sex? I'm not—I'm not good at sex, I mean last night was the only action I've ever got." 

He reached out before he could stop himself, his thumb brushing a stray foundation dust from her collarbone. The shudder that ran through her at the simple touch didn't escape his notice. "You'll be fine," He murmured, his voice softer now to coax her. "I'm not a cruel man. I always take care of what's mine." He trailed off, his hand sliding down to squeeze her hip possessively,  "You don't have to worry about making me happy. You'll always get your due from me."

"Okay. No take backs! I want to be pampered, I want money and I want gifts!" She preened slightly before shaking her head as if to shake her out of it. His spoiled little princess might demand all day, but she would still demand from him only and he would make sure of it. Probably with more dramatic sighs and exaggerated limping from her end, but his nonetheless.

He had her, He had her, He had her, He had her right in his trap—

He plating the last of the pancakes before nodding toward the table. "Well then I'll hold you to it. Eat this up and then I'll show you how to be a proper sugar baby to me." The double meaning in his words wasn't lost on either of them, if the way her thighs pressed together was any indication.

As she flounced over to the table with all the grace of an offended cat, he allowed himself one last look at the sway of her hips and the way her skirt rode up just enough to show the bruises he had made on her perfect ass. 

Yeah, she would be feeling him all day.

He spoiled her endlessly. Maybe too much. But you can't blame a man for wanting to pamper his cute little hamster can you? 

He had never expected to be the doting type but here he was—watching as his girl pranced out of some high-end boutique in Sky Haven District, three shopping bags dangling from each arm on his driver while his driver trailed behind her like an exasperated shadow. It should've irritated him, it should made him rethink the coercive arrangement they had fallen into since that night in the penthouse. 

If it were anyone else. It was her, his sweet beloved who could drain all his cards for all he cared about. He would simply earn it back on his missions that made millions each time. He watched the way her hips swayed in that stupidly short pink skirt, the way her heels clicked against the pavement with every spoiled, impatient step. 

It just made him want to sink his teeth into her neck and not let her ago. 

It had been two months. Two months of credit card statements that looked like an aristocrat's yearly spending, two months of her batting her lashes while handing him a receipt for some absurdly overpriced handbag, two months of bending her over every available surface and cramming himself in that tight little ass—because she still wouldn't let him near her pussy.

He prided himself a patient but the slowly widening crack in his resolve made it so much harder, especially whenever she pouted with her glossy lips. He had watched her update her social media with lightning speed, making sure every single of her school friends saw her riches. Because of course she loved to show off and he made sure to feed into it. 

He wanted her to grow reliant on that luxury, to see her not even want to spend a day without his dime and he wanted to make sure that she showed off to her peers that this was her worth. No snotty nosed prick her age would try to woo her, no man his age would even try because they all knew his mark was in her. 

He exhaled sharply through his nose as she slid into the back of the car, tossing her purchases onto the seat opposite her without a care. His fingers tightened around his coffee cup, the paper crumpling under his grip. She hadn't even greeted him. Just waltzed in like she owned the damn thing—which financially speaking, she kind of did at this point.

He doesn't mind though. Her bad attitude deterred away all potential suitors. he had watched a footage of her screaming at some man who tried to get her number and in the process ruined her little outing with her rich friends (paid with his money). 

The driver shot him a sympathetic look but Caleb just smiled and slipped in beside her. The door hadn't even closed before her legs were crossed, her foot bouncing impatiently. She didn't look at him and just pulled out her phone, glossy painted nails (paid with his money again) tapping at the screen with the intensity of a owner closing a deal. 

Probably texting her girlfriends some exaggerated story about how exhausting her shopping spree had been.

"Good day, princess?" He drawled, stretching his arm along the back of the seat as his fingertips just barely brushed the nape of her neck. She shivered but didn't acknowledge him otherwise than a simple, yep. 

Typical. 

He leaned in, close enough that his breath mingled with hers. "Or should I ask how my day was when I get the notification that you dropped ten grand on—" He plucked the nearest receipt from her bags, eyebrows climbing, "—custom-made, Swarovski-encrusted hair clips?"

She finally deigned to glance at him, her nose scrunched in that familiar, haughty expression—the one that said you're beneath me even as her thighs pressed together under his stare, "It just newly came out. You know I had to get my order in!" 

He quirked an eyebrow. He could smell her, that maddening vanilla and strawberry perfume mixed with something darker, something only he had been allowed close enough to recognize. His dick twitched against his uniform slacks. He took off his uniform hat and set it on his lap, his boots nudging one bag.

"Of course princess. Only the best for you," He continued, snagging her wrist before she could pull away again. Her pulse jumped under his fingertips, fast and frantic like she was nervous. He thumbed over the delicate bones, feeling the way her breath hitched at the contact, "I bought new pearl earrings for you."

She perked up with excitement, turning her face toward the window, but he didn't miss the way her free hand crept to her skirt, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles. Gosh, she was always preening, always trying to make sure she looked radiant. And why wouldn't she be? He had spent the last two months ensuring she never doubted her place—perched on his lap, his wallet in her back pocket, his cock buried in her ass whenever he pleased.

And yet.

Yet.

He had never kissed her, never tasted that pouty mouth, never been allowed inside her cunt, no matter how many times he had dragged his fingers through her slick and pressed them to her lips, demanding she lick what she wouldn't let him take.

His jaw clenched. He was a fucking idiot. A lovesick, spoiled brat indulging idiot. But gods how much he loved being her idiot, getting strung along like she would drop him when she found her love. Hah, as if he would ever let her go and he would make sure to bury whatever fuck tries to win her heart or hand. 

The car stopped at a red light, the muted sounds of Sky Haven's traffic filtering through the glass. Her reflection stared back at him—excited for her new gift, preening and making sure his lip gloss wasn't smudged. His grip on her wrist tightened unconsciously.

"Driver," He said never breaking eye contact with her in the window. "Take us to the penthouse."

A beat of silence. Then, "Which one, sir?"

His smile was all teeth, "The one in the plaza district."

She stiffened, her fingers tightening around her phone. She knew what that meant, knew he hadn't taken her to his personal apartment in that district once in the last two months. They always tangled in his other places, always a hotel, always someplace far from the place where it all began. Someplace she could pretend she wasn't his.

He had a point to make tonight. And he also needed release after hearing his father gush about some woman he had fallen in love with that had a daughter. Like the man expected Caleb to play sister to some random girl when he had his hands full with his own girl. 

Until he had seen the files of the woman his father had fallen in love with and her daughter. He had stared and stared and stared until 

The moment the car pulled into the underground garage of his building, he was out and rounding the vehicle to yank her door open himself. She hesitated as her legs uncrossed slowly, like she was considering making a run for it. He wished she would. He would love to chase her through the parking garage, corner her between concrete pillars and remind her exactly who she belonged to.

His. His girl. 

Instead, she took his offered hand with all the grace of a queen granting a peasant audience, "There better be some ice cream and not the generic brand, I want the one with the gold flecks." 

"Of course. I had my maids stock up on what you like." He replied as he took her to the elevator, just watching  the numbers climb as his thumb traced idle circles on the inside of her wrist. She was vibrating with energy beside him, her chest rising and falling too rapidly but her chin stayed lifted. 

So prideful like a lioness. He hoped that lioness attitude would extended to their babies or rather cubs once they are here. 

The doors slid open directly into his living room—spacious, modern, all floor to ceiling windows and tasteful blacks. She barely had time to take a step before he was crowding her against the nearest wall, one hand braced beside her head with the other still gripping her wrist.

"You're killing me pipsqueak," He muttered, dragging his nose along her jaw. She smelled like sugar and expensive perfume and his fucking shampoo because of course she would raid his bathroom products too, "I have been so patient. Don't I deserve a reward?"

Her breath hitched when his knee nudged between her thighs.

"You've got my cards, my driver, my complete adoration and attention." His lips brushed the corner of her ear, relishing her full body shudder. "And still you won't let me fuck you in your cunt."

"I told you," Her temper flared and she weakly pushed against his chest with her jeweled hand, "I don't want you to kiss me or fuck me in the pussy. Why are you being so pushy?" 

She huffed and walked away from him. His jaw clenched and he suppressed his raging need to simply flip her over to fuck her senseless. Instead, he waits to sweeten her up with ice cream and coaxs her to have sex with him again. 

She's on her stomach and bent over the sofa, her skirt hiked up as well as her face mushed against the pillows. He's balls deep inside of her ass, feeling her clamp down with a intensity that makes him hiss. 

His dick glistens with lube and the slick of her ass as he pulls out slowly, savoring the way her tight hole flutters around nothing, gaping and aching. She whines high and panicked, but he doesn't stop. He drags the thick head of his dick lower, teasing through her slick folds and smearing her own wetness against her virgin pussy. 

The sound she makes with her gasp and sob makes his dick even harder, "What—what are you doing—"

His breath caught in his throat as he felt the warm, virgin tightness of her cunt resisting him but just barely. The sensation was intense, her pussy walls fluttering around the forceful tip of his dick in frantic squeezes. Weeks of fucking just her ass, weeks of watching her parade around in those pretty little skirts with that insufferable princess attitude, weeks of her dangling her untouched pussy in front of him like a goddamn prize—it had all been leading here. 

"Shh, baby." He murmured, his voice low and rough with his hands gripping her hips to still her desperate squirming. She was tight—so tight—her slick barely coating his dick compared to the obscene wetness he was used to when taking her ass. Though he did not care and when her virgin blood bleed out, every inch of her protested around him and clamping down like she was trying to force him out. "Just relax. Breathe, I'm right here with you honey."

"No, no, no—stop—stop it—get off me!" She sobbed out, writhing under him with her pretty face crumpled in distress, her manicured nails raking over his forearms in weak protest. He gritted his teeth, his dick twitching painfully inside her as he fought the urge to just shove the rest of the way in. He wasn't that much of a monster though hells, she made it hard. 

"I said," He snarled, pressing forward another fraction of an inch, "Breathe. You ever heard the phrase ask for forgiveness, not permission?"

"I hate you!" She sniffled, kicking her heels against the floor, "You promised—you promised me! You fucking pervert! You horrible old man! You're hurting me, please stop. Please, please." 

He finally used his evol, pinning her down against the sofa as he whispered, "Stop struggling. You knew this would happen when you kept on wearing all those thongs and panties around me. And we don't want to send mom pictures of you fucked by me, do we?" 

She froze, tearing running down her cheek like diamonds. 

Got her.

His fingers dug into her hips hard enough to leave bruises. Her breath wavered, her body trembling beneath him but her struggles subsided whether from exhaustion or resignation, he didn't know and didn't care. As long as she stopped fighting him. He exhaled hard through his nose, forcing himself to stay still despite the overwhelming urge to pound into her and breed her well. 

"You have evol," She whispered tearfully and broken hearted as if she was betrayed, "You're one of them." 

Silly girl, of course he was one of them. How else had he climbed to the colonel position so fast? How else had he mobilized so much power into his and his father's faction? He was one of the most powerful evol users in the city and his vain princess had never even noticed because she was always too busy looking at her heart shaped mirror. 

He slowly flipped her on her back and she cried sweetly, gently like he had stolen her cookie. 

She was perfect. Small. So fucking delicate compared to him, her body stretched to the limit just to take him. He could feel every ridge, every pulse of her cunt as it struggled to adjust and the sensation was obscene. He had dreamed about this—about sinking into her pussy and not her ass, about claiming what she'd so stubbornly withheld.

"There, there. You're doing so well. I've never seen such a good girl like you," He praised, dipping his head to nip at her neck, "You're taking me so well. Look, your little pussy stopped bleeding." 

His hips rolled experimentally, easing another inch deeper into her tight warmth. She clenched around him tightly, a ragged sob catching in her throat but  he didn't stop,  "You're not on birth control, never even took a single pill and fuck. You don't know how happy I was to hear that you never take them."

He could get her pregnant. He wasn't wearing a rubber. He could get her pregnant right now. 

She shook her head, her pretty gloss-smeared lips trembling and it was so cute a laugh bubbled in his throat, dragging his fingers up her sides to cup her tits roughly, "No. Please. I don't want a baby, I'm too young, I'm scared, please—"

She still wore that expensive lace bra—the one he had bought her last week, the one he had told her looked better on the floor, 

"No baby. I'm not listening to you when you don't listen to me. You wanted to save this for some boyfriend?" He thrust deeper, swallowing her gasp with his own, "Huh? Like fucking hell I would let you go after some unworthy, dirty little shit. You're mine, you belong with me and if you just accept all of this—I can treat you with all the riches and fame you want in life."

And then he kissed her, really kissed her with his lips. 

Her lips were soft, sticky with ruined gloss as well as her tears and she stiffened against him for a heartbeat before melting into it with a whimper. Good fucking girl. He groaned into her mouth, his tongue sweeping past her teeth, claiming her in every way possible. When he finally pulled back, her eyes were wide and her chest heaving.

Her doe eyes red and puffy from tears. 

"No more 'no kissing'," He murmured against her lips, his hips grinding forward until he was fully seated inside her, his pelvis grinding against her little clit, "And no more 'no pussy'."

He fucked her hard and deep like he always wanted, her pussy making obscene sounds of his dick cramming up space, her pussy lips red and forcefully parted open by him. He wanted to slip his dick out and lick up her blood, wanted to suck on her clit and guzzle up her ruined slick. He wanted her, he wanted her.

Her cries were muffled against his shoulder, her hands scrabbling at his back as he set a brutal pace, her tiny pussy squeezing him just right. She was made for this, made for him and every reluctant moan she gave was sweeter than the last. His hand rubbed her clit gently in the way she loved, milking her pleasure out bit by bit. Her thighs trembled, her legs locking around his waist.

"I'll kill you," She sniffled out with snot running down her nose, "I'll kill you in your sleep. I'll fucking stab you with a knife, I don't care you're a colonel and I'll cut up your lungs—"

"Let me fuck your cunt one more time before you kill me," He panted, dragging her hips up to meet his next thrust, "Let me make you my wife. Let me give you a few babies in your belly before you murder me for my fortune. Let me make you forget you ever even thought about saving this for someone else." His thumb circling her clit roughly.

She shook her head, her protests dissolving into a broken moan as his fingers worked her over. He grinned handsomely and sweaty, leaning down to grope her tit and suck on a nipple. "No? Sorry, pipsqueak. I don't take 'no's from my girl." His thrusts turned sharper, "Shit. I'm gonna come, I'm gonna stuff this pussy with a baby—"

"Caleb." She whimpered. Her back arched violently as her orgasm came through her, her cunt spasming as more slick leaked out of her and mixed with the blood staining her thighs. He groaned, pounding into her through it and chasing his own release with single minded determination.

 He growled against her neck as he spilled inside her, "You're fucking mine."

He exhaled sharply as he pulled out, his cock still throbbing from the roughness. The sight of his come leaking from her well used and sore pussy sent a dagger of ownership through him—she was marked now, thoroughly and so much like his. He softly slapped her ass, watching the cheek jiggle, "Alright baby, playtime's over. That wasn't so hard, was it?" 

She curled into herself, those delicate shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. He reached for her instinctively, his calloused hands—the same ones that had pinned her down moments ago—now gentling as they trailed over her trembling back, "Hey," He murmured, voice hoarse but softer now almost tender, "Look at me, princess."

She didn't, of course. 

She just hiccupped again, her face buried in the crumpled sheets, her mascara smudged beyond repair. He sighed, shifting closer with his body curving around hers like a shield, "I know it hurt," He admitted, his thumb tracing heart shapes on her hip, "I'm sorry, I'll kiss it better in the morning. and then we can go shopping in the new mall my company opened. They have brand new stores importing from Sterra. and my prettiest girl needs her pretty things to show off"

The praise was deliberate. She thrived on it—on being told how perfect she was, how good and how perfect. Even now, he could feel her breath stutter at his words, her muscles loosening just a fraction. He took the advantage, leaning down to press a kiss to the nape of her neck right where her pulse fluttered wildly. 

But she cut him off, "I want to break up. I don't want to see you ever again. I hate you." 

He kept mum, not speaking any further as he cuddled her closer to his chest. She cried and cried all night, her tears never ending and her complaints filling his ears with each wince, with each sniffle, with each whimper. She cried for her father, she cried for her mother and she cried for him. 

When she cried for him, he held her tighter and pressed a kiss to her head, her sweet scent lulling him to a deep sleep. 

She was gone in the morning but he was not too worried. She would crawl back to him for his money, for the protection he gave her, for the way he indulged and pampered her that her own mother didn't. She would always come back into his arms and he would be ready to sweep her off her feet. If not, he had just the way to tie her to him that even she couldn't refute. 

After all, he didn't want his little babies in her belly missing him too much because their pouty mother was throwing a tantrum. 

The very week, his father sends him to pick up his new step mother and he makes sure to dress up dashingly to woo the older woman into liking him. First impressions matter and he wasn't the type to put a damper on his father's (late) love story. The car stops in front of a cute two story house with a little cat playing in the front, the collar pink and glittering. 

He had worn his uniform, the golden chain and lapels shining from the sunlight, his dark hair brushed and presented well. His gloves were embraided with his name and hers as well, a silent statement made for his own heart. The sight of the farspace fleet uniform makes the cat meow at him, coming over to circle him. He bends down to pet it a bot, oddly reminded of how his girl pawed at him whenever she had wanted his credit cards. 

A smile stretches over his lips as he hears the commotion inside the house, the voice of an older woman rising over the more childish and whiny one until the door opened and the older woman stopped. The older woman looked about his father's age yet still beautiful, doe eyes widening at the sight of him. 

"Oh! You must be Caleb, your father has told me so much about you." The woman gushes, coming forward to place a hand on his arm. 

He flashes her the smile that he reserved for older people, the ones he wanted to look disarmingly handsome with as his purple eyes gleamed with fondness, "Good things I hope. My father can get quite enthusiastic when he boasts." 

"Of course! Ah! Have I introduced you to my daughter? Gosh, where is that girl—" 

A young girl walks out of the door, her cheeks puffed up as she fumbled with her diamond encrusted bag. Her hair was soft and silky, her skin smooth and her scent sweet. Her face caked by make up, too much make up in fact. She wore a beautiful pink dress with a bow in the middle, tying her waist and making her lush weight stand out. His eyes traced the soft curves and he waited. There was a small box in her other hand, absolutely tiny. 

Most likely a gift for her new step brother. 

"God, mom! You can't rush perfection and you know I need to have my favorite bag to make a good impression on your new boy—I mean husband and his son—" The girl choked on her words, instantly freezing as soon as her doe eyes fell on him. 

A slow smile crept up on his face. 

The box fell on the floor from his girl's shaking hands and he bent down to retrieve it, opening it with ease using his evol. A beautiful dog-tag silver necklace with an apple as an ornament glimmered up at him, the words on the plate of the dog tag entailing something he wished for himself. 

For when you come back. 

"There she is," The older woman huffed and quickly dragged her daughter near, "This is Caleb. The step brother I was telling you about."

"Wait, wait. What's—what's this all about, mom?" His vain princess squeaks out, her voice breaking as the dawning realization sank into her. She looked ready to cry and roll around in the grass, throwing a tantrum. Brother. Her mother had said brother, "What do you mean brother? Since when? What are you talking about?"

Her mother—now also his step mother—frowns at her daughter's reaction, her hands coming to rest on top of her daughter's shoulders as if to soothe a spooked baby cat. His girl only shook her head harder, as if in sheer disbelief and her breaths came in faster. She frantically whimpered no no no no no. 

He leans down, his breath ghosting her ears as his lips curled up, "Hello, sister."