A Dozen Dahlias and a Taser

3: Nico

"Please, can you get me a glass of water?" Dahlia asked, her doe eyes pleading into mine.

She was really pretty but too innocent for me. Way too innocent. I had a boner when I saw her ass in those little shorts, and she thought it was a gun, then a taser. I mean, how wasn't she embarrassed? And she's 19! At 19, I was getting head from under my desk whilst I stoodied for my exam final in sixth form.

But, despite how pretty she was, I needed to get the fact into her head that I wasn't gonna be her servant. This was the 17th thing she had asked me for in 15 minutes. No more pretty privilege will be given from me.

"No."

"Please."

"No, I'm not your slave. I'm your bodyguard. I'm not here to look after you; I'm here to kill anyone who touches you."

"Don't be lazy! You're literally right by the tap! Please,"

"Sweetheart, stop begging."

"Why?"

Because your gonna make my cock tear through the fabric of my pants.

"Because it's annoying. But I'll get you a fucking glass if it'll make you shut up." I huffed, not cracking so I didn't start telling her the truth.

I was a chronic undersharer, and it seemed that this girl in front of me was the complete opposite.

In the past few hours, her childlike fury had dissolved completely, and  she just yapped and yapped to me as if i was her girly best friend shes had for 8 years.

Although, her voice was a melodic whisper, soft and warm like honey drizzling over a calm summer breeze, which made the fact that what she was saying was purely nonsensical, tolerable.

She grabbed the glass of water I had poured from my hand before bouncing back to the sofa.

"Stop bouncing your gonna -" splash. "Spill it."

"Sorry!" She turned around and looked at me, and immediately, my eyes darted to the soaked white shirt she wore. She wasn't wearing any special or sexy underwear, just a plain light rose bra which matched the blush painted on her cheeks, but it was enough to get my "taser" rock solid again.

"Just go clean up, sweetheart." My eyes fluttered back to her eyes. Her eyes were a captivating blend of blue and green, shimmering like sunlit ocean waves on a clear day.

"No, it's fine. It will dry in a few minutes." She smiled as she sat back down on the couch.

"It's not fine,"

"What do you mean?"

"You'll catch a cold,"

Bollocks. I was chatting pure bollocks as if I were Jay Cartwright.

"I won't."

"Just go put a shirt on." I was beginning to lose my patience with her. She was so spoilt and entitled, and she wouldn't listen to anything I said.

"Make me." Shit. I knew she didn't know the innuendo behind that, but that didn't stop a pulse electrocuting my dick.

I made my way into her bedroom and started rummaging through her wardrobe. I saw unopened letters and unorganised mess everywhere. I picked a hoodie from the floor of the closet and came back into the little living room.

Everything was so small here. It was like being inside of a sylvanian family doll's house.

"Come on. Arms up." I commanded to her as I hoovered over her small body. She wasn’t that miniscule because she was about 5,4 but to me she was a fucking midget.

In response, she tilted her head away from me, defying me. She is going to be the fucking death of me and I only met her a couple of hours ago.

"Just do it, yeah?" I held her wrists and pinned them above her head after she continued to ignore me. Her face jolted straight back to me, her full, pink lips pouting straight at me.

"Why are you so bossy?" She asked as I slipped off her wet shirt.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckkkk.

Her skin had water glistening across her chest, trickling down her bra. All I wanted to do was to rip her bra off with my teeth and bite down on her nipples softly, then harshly. Just to drive her mad. She didn't have big breasts, but they were perky, which matched her soft-

Jesus Christ, stop thinking about her tits.

I pulled the hoodie over her head and sat down next to her quickly. At least I didn't have to hide my erection around her because she was gullible enough to think it was a taser, but it was so hard that it hurt.

Bend her over. Slap her ass and then her pretty pussy for disobeying you.

No, no. Not doing that.

Not yet, anyway.

She sighed, clearly annoyed with me, and she wasn't arsed about being visible about her feelings. She was hot and cold, and it was very clear. "By the way, I don't want it, but my Daddy said that I need to get your phone number so I can contact you.".

Daddy? Was she 19 in a kinky relationship or 9 years old?

"Absolutely not."

"Why?" She turned to look at me and tilted her head to the left. My fucking weakness.

"I don't do that stuff. If there's a problem, I'll be with you anyway." I answered, turning to face her fully.

"That's stupid you cant be with me all the time."

"I think you're starting to underestimate what's really going on, sweetheart. You are the daughter of George Sinclair. A racist, homophobic politician who is getting pedophile and child molester allegations thrown left right and centre at him and is currently black listed by many people. Hate to break it to you, but you should know by now that London isn't sunshine and lollipops," I needed her to hear this. Countering the fact that there is only a 4 year age gap between us, she hadn't fully come to understand the world yet. "It's shit, I know. But your dad is a dickhead so that means your life is on the line."

Her eyes softened but in a way that made her look fragile. Hurt. I felt bad, but I knew that I only spoke the truth.

"I know he's mean and not very nice, but it's not for you to comment on." She looked down at the floor, twiddling with her thumbs, making me feel like utter shit. "Excuse me."

She got up and went to the bathroom and guilt gnawed at my conscience, a relentless shadow that darkened every moment with the weight of unspoken remorse.

Had I crossed a line?

Maybe I should just ignore her. I'm not here to be a friend of most things. If I ignore her, I can't break her. I know what I'm like, and I've destroyed pureness and happiness in friends and partners before, but she is neither.

The evil horny fucker on my shoulder told me to destroy her innocence in a series of thrusts and stretching her wide but screw that. I can't let those thoughts win.

Just yet.