Dwelling in Desire Ch. 01

"Wow," I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "I didn't know you did all that, but...yeah. That sounds like what I need."

"Great," she said with a coy smile. "So, do you want to show me the house then? We should discuss your needs for each room."

My needs. My needs.

The more time I spent with this young woman, smelling her perfume, trying not to get lost in her gorgeous eyes, trying my damndest not to stare like some lovesick teenager, the more my "needs" became less and less honorable.

Get it to-fucking-gether you idiot, I cursed myself.

"Sure," I answered as smoothly as I could manage. "Let me show you the kitchen."

I led her through the hallway into the large eat-in kitchen, and nearly laughed when I heard her soft "Wow."

I turned to look at her, expecting that like Margot, she would be casting judgment. But she seemed merely entranced at the size of the space. Almost like she hadn't seen a house this big before. It was endearing.

"Well, Mr. Donovan, this space has fantastic potential. I can definitely put together some sketches and ideas for how we can configure the room. Usually the family room gets the most use, so it's typically the one most invested in."

"Investment is not an issue," I interjected. "I want the best. For all rooms."

"Oh," she raised her eyebrows again. "Well why don't you give me a brief tour of the other rooms and I'll make some notes."

I showed her the downstairs areas, the guest suite, the gun room, and the wine cellar, if for no other reason than to impress her. I couldn't get enough of her look of awe. Her brief look of fear when I showed her my gun collection was delicious as well, and caused me to stiffen in my jeans.

When it was time to tour the upstairs, I selfishly let her lead the way. Though I regretted it with every step as my pants became tighter and tighter, my face reddening, my pulse racing.

God, her ass was amazing. Her little wool skirt was conservative in style, but it wasn't enough to disguise her soft round derriere.

I showed her the four spare rooms, and finally the master suite.

Looking around quietly, sizing up the space, Bethany appeared deep in thought. I was deep in thought as well, but I doubted our musings aligned. Did she have any idea how easy it would be for me to push her down on my bed and take her? I could do anything I wanted to her. I could force her to scream my name over and over again, punishing her innocent pussy until she cried from the intensity of it.

She paused as soon as she observed my bed, and suddenly I wondered if our thoughts were in fact so out of sync.

"Do you live with anyone Mr. Donovan?" she asked softly.

"No, it's just me," I confessed throatily, still trying to temper my impure thoughts about this girl.

She nodded, and then turned to the card table I had set up, now scattered with papers and my laptop.

"Do you work from home?"

"Not usually," I replied quickly. "I'm recovering from a bug. Last week I was in and out of bed. I was thinking of converting one of the guest rooms into a study though. What do you think?"

She nodded.

"It's not generally advisable to have work rooms within or in close proximity to sleep spaces. It discourages healthy sleep patterns. I think a dedicated study is a good idea. If you live alone, you certainly have plenty of square footage to spare for that."

Geez this girl really knew her stuff. I shook my head.

"I'm sorry if this is rude Bethany, but, how old are you? You seem so knowledgeable, but you look so young."

"I'm twenty five," she answered. "I've always looked young for my age. It's a curse."

"How in God's name is that a curse?" I laughed.

"It's hard to be taken seriously when you look like a little girl," she smirked. "Having my own company, trying to build my reputation, make connections, all while looking like I'm barely out of high school is challenging."

Raising my eyebrows, I conceded, "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

She looked at me with underlying frustration at the direction of conversation, but still kept her professional posture, which I could tell was something she had trained herself to do.

"Well Bethany, you certainly seem qualified, and you came highly recommended by Margot. When can you start, and what do you need from me?"

Bethany blushed, and blinked in surprise.

"Well, I can start today actually. I will need to take measurements and run some rough ideas by you, and then I'll need to do some research to figure out the exact course of action, which pieces to buy for you and where, call my contractor about getting an estimate on labor, etcetera."

Wow, I thought. I guess this is more work than it seems.

"And of course there is the matter of my fee."

Oh boy, here we go. I expected her to come at me with some outrageous figure. Not that I wouldn't have paid it.

"If you want the whole place done, from top to bottom, that will take dozens of hours of work on my part."

"Naturally," I agreed.

"For a project this size, I typically offer a flat rate. I could do this for five thousand, not including any of the furnishings or materials."

My jaw dropped a bit. Five thousand? Did this girl have any idea how ridiculously low that was? Going by my own hourly rate, the figure would easily have been in the tens of thousands.

She looked me in the eye with a stone poker face that reminded me of Joe. I wanted to laugh, but given what she had said about not being taken seriously, I definitely didn't want to risk offending her. Better to just go with it.

"That sounds good," I said. "Do you take cash?"

Her eyes went to the floor as she replied with a soft, "Sure, cash is fine."

At least this way she wouldn't have to get raped by the fucking IRS.

"Great, just give me a second to pull it."

"No problem Mr. Donovan, I'll get started measuring. It will probably take me a while anyway."

Mr. Donovan. Mr. Donovan. That sounded so cute coming out of her. Her voice was so sweet.

I was struggling to keep my massive hard-on at bay. She was just so...sweet. And young. Beneath her polished professional exterior I could sense her femininity. And it made me want to corrupt her. To ravish her. To expose her. I had to get that moronic idea out of my head. Both heads actually. This is a professional business relationship, I reminded myself.

After pulling the five grand from the safe, I observed Bethany as she bustled about, measuring the huge space. I noticed a couple times her measuring tape wasn't even long enough to span the room, and she had to take multiple measurements.

I would get her a bigger measuring tape, I thought immediately. A nice one.

When she had finished, we spent another hour discussing my "requirements". After watching her repeatedly bend over in that cute wool skirt to measure and make notations on her pad, there was only one requirement I could think of, and she would never know about it. Ever.

"For the most part Bethany, I just want it to look presentable and be comfortable."

"Sounds good," she smiled.

Handing her the envelope full of bills, and admiring her blush, I cleared my throat and asked, "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"Well eventually I will need a house key, and a credit card so I can place orders quickly," she explained. "And I do want to show you some pictures of different ideas and get your feedback so I know if I'm on the right track. I'll get some of those together tonight."

"No problem," I assured her. "Do you want to come by tomorrow? I will probably be back in the office full time on Thursday, so we should wrap up any details that we can."

"Sure, I can come by tomorrow" Bethany agreed. "Same time?"

"Sounds perfect," I grinned, shaking her tiny hand before seeing her to the door.

After slipping her shoes back on, and shouldering her purse, she turned back to me and added, "By the way, Betty is apparently Margot's pet name for me. That may have been what caused the confusion. Normally I go by Bethany, or Beth."

"Ah, that makes sense now. Well you can call me Curt, if you are comfortable with that. And feel free to wear your shoes in my house if it makes things easier for you. You have cute feet, so I don't mind either way," I flirted, wishing instantly that I had kept my trap shut.

Bethany just blushed, and issued a soft, "Thanks. Curt. I'll see you tomorrow then."

Clearing my throat again in embarrassment, I opened the door for her, taking one last inhale of her sweet perfume. "Thank you, Bethany. I look forward to it."

As soon as the door was locked behind her, I rested my head against the carved hardwood. What was I thinking? That comment about her feet. This was supposed to be a business relationship. Professional. With boundaries. I needed to keep this girl at a healthy distance. And I needed relief, soon.

---

The rest of the day had been interesting. I had thrown myself into my work, focusing on the case and getting things composed for when Joe returned. When the sun finally went down, I decided to order some Chinese, since Margot apparently didn't take my request for soup seriously.

Picking up my phone, I texted Margot.

Thank you for referring "Betty" to me, Margot. She was a class act. She's coming back tomorrow to discuss things further. Now where is my fucking soup?

>Ding<

Not at all, Mr. Donovan. As for the soup, you'll get it when you get it. xoxo

Which likely meant tomorrow. I hoped. I didn't keep much in the house.

>Ding<

I'll come by tomorrow morning on my way to the office.

Whew. The woman could be a cunt, but in the end she was always there when I needed her.

---

I tossed and turned, trying my best to get some sleep, but my mind kept wandering back to Bethany. Her full gorgeous lips, her peachy soft looking cheeks, her dainty feet, her cute round ass in her wool skirt. And of course, her fucking amazing eyes. Her ruffled blouse didn't allow me a full assessment of her assets, but from what I could recall, she had nothing to be ashamed of.

Against my better judgment, I tried to visualize what she would look like naked. I couldn't help it. I lay there with my eyes closed, picturing her in my room. I saw her shyly unbuttoning her blouse, reluctantly parting the silk for my viewing pleasure.

The vision of her breasts was fuzzy, but I enjoyed the imaginary strip tease nonetheless. She slowly undid the side zipper on her gray wool skirt before sliding it down her legs. Her lacey white panties suited her to a tee, as did her soft blonde pussy mane when she bared that to me as well.

I bit my lip, my eyes shut tight as I fisted my cock with urgency.

Bethany came towards me, crawling onto the bed. Her eyes were so innocent. So blue. Filled with such longing and need that matched my own.

I saw her gently caressing my naked thighs, slowly leaning over me, and breathing on the head of my cock. I could feel it. Her soft innocent breath on me.

I saw her wet pink tongue slip out to lick my cock head. She licked her lips, assessing the taste of my pre-cum. Then she leant forward again and wrapped her lips around the glans, sucking tentatively to see my reaction.

I growled at the vision, nodding, encouraging her to continue. I wanted to wrap my hands in her hair and pull her lower onto my cock, but alas I could not.

"Suck my cock Bethany," I commanded, giving in to the fantasy completely.

I saw her eyes go from hesitant to resolved as she began to bob her head up and down on me.

"Take me deeper baby. That's it. Choke on my cock," I hissed.

I could almost feel her throat constricting over my cock, her eyes fluttering and watering with determination.

"Suck me!" I grunted aloud. "Suck my cock, slut! Suck it!"

She nodded her head in acquiescence, shutting her eyes and sucking with abandon.

I fisted my hands in her hair making pigtails with it. Oh God yeah, pigtails.

My balls tightened, and I struggled to keep the vision alive. I saw her head bobbing up and down as I fisted my hands tightly in her little blonde pigtails. She squealed with girly delight into my cock, sending shivers through me. She loved it. She loved being used, being my slut, my whore.

"Bethany, yes!! Mmmmaahhhhh!!" I cried, shooting my load into the sheets.

Fuck, I thought, as I slowly regained my senses. My body was covered in sweat, my chest heaving. What had I done? Shit. I had imagined Bethany. I had imagined cumming down her throat. It was fucking amazing. But it would never happen.

I groaned as I rolled to the side, letting exhaustion claim me at last. This "business relationship" was off to a great start.