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Her Irresistible Guardian
Photo: The Passion - R. Young
When Amy Holt knocks at system magnate Mark Benton's Georgian mansion, he wasn't
sure what to do with that distant relation orphaned teenager. He takes her in, becoming her
But as she turns eighteen, a simmering attraction starts to build, threatening Amy's fierce
independence. Mark is too possessive and controlling for her taste.
Mark is at the end of his forces, his defiant ex-ward is making his blood boil, and he doesn't
know what to do with it. Even though he knows very well what he wants to do with her.
His powerful arms closed firmly around her waist and he pulled her close to him lifting her from
the smooth sand on the bottom of the sun-sparkling sea. His hard-as-a-rock manhood nested
in between her buttocks. Her mouth emitted a sensuous wanton groan. How deliciously small
she was. She fit in his arms delightfully and he wanted to wrap her in him forever.
His desire for her was taking him to the rims of insanity. His mind could only produce images
of what he wanted to do with her. He wanted in her. Deep, thrust until he lost touch with reality.
One of his thumbs hooked on the thin strap around her hips, pulling it down. He palmed her
backside fully, revelling on the smoothness of it. The sea currents juggled their bodies, making
them rub on each other.
She had become a sack of sensations. One of her arms rose to hold his thick neck, which
stretched her body for his utter satisfaction. It was when his thumb left the strap and all his
fingers sneaked inside the insignificant patch of cloth. His fore-finger found her lubricous and
“I need you, Amy!” A hoarse plead. “I need to be inside you. Now!”
His voice revolved the fire in her and spread it to every single cell in her body. She struggled
to keep her clear thought on the surface of a drowning desire. But the latter was surpassing
the former, surging in her like a Vulcan, burning her entire body in its wake. She was empty,
oh, so in need of him!
Amy ran up the front door steps happily. She had just received her grade report. The last of
her school history. She had gotten the highest grades in all subjects and was about to apply
to university. The last two years had been much better than she expected. She was warmly
thankful to Mark. He had allowed her to stay up to the end of her secondary school and made
the legal arrangements to act as her guardian, a role he’d drop tomorrow, when she’d be
She entered the newly refurbished house and rounded a look at the result. The architect who
managed the project kept the traditional aspects of the architecture, combining it with the most
modern resources. The result was cosiness, comfort and smart gadgets. Amy made it a point
to be of help and her influence showed in the details: upholstery, curtains, wall-papers. She
had been keen in helping with the household work as well, as a sign of gratitude. She’d wanted
to get a job, but Mark refused to hear anything about it. So she tried to be helpful in other
Mark arrived home at his usual time. It had become routine for him to come home and find
Amy going about some task. In his thirty-six years he had never found a more positive and
active teenager. It was a good team work, he assessed. She was sitting on an armchair playing
one of her endless video-games. Sometimes they’d play together, which built on their
“Hi, Mark!” She said cheerfully and stood up on her five feet three to come and greet him.
Mark’s stomach tightened. She had grown to be a woman, this was undeniable. Her slim body
acquired a thin waist, round hips and full breasts delineated by her eternal jeans and tee shirt.
She had grown to a gracious height that became her. Her cinnamon brown hair fell in shinny
ringlets around her face and down her back. He would always be amazed by her most
remarkable feature, her translucent enormous honey eyes, where every tiny emotion would
pass as a bright film.
“Amy.” He complimented, erasing any uncomfortable thought from his mind.
She gave him the school report with a proud stance. He looked at it and was not surprised.
After plummeting in the first months due to the changes in her life, her school story had been
always brilliant. This had inspired him to give her a birthday present. Only tomorrow, he
thought to himself.
“Congratulations!” He put on a satisfied expression on his moss-green eyes. He had to
remember that he hadn’t been totally honest with her lately.
Next day, Mrs Smith, the housekeeper, prepared a special dinner and a cake to the girl she
was so fond of and who helped her non-stop. After dinner, Amy and Mark went to the sitting
room to drink her first Port wine and savour the cake.
“If you could go to the University, what would you study?” Mark started.
“Well, I’ve been thinking of it these days. I believe I’d study business management focused on
human resources.” She took a sip. “I’ll apply for a study loan.” She gave a shy smile. “I hope I
He didn’t smile, he turned his back on her and stared at the fireplace. “I have a proposition for
you.” He put his hand in his pocket which emphasized his tall lean figure.
“I am curious.” Amy looked at him. She didn’t know when she had realized he was so attractive,
but every time he was around her she felt a prickling sensation running through her body and
she hid it behind a girlish behaviour. She had also seen a line of lovers go by his life. The
more successful he got, the bigger the line became. She witnessed his company overrun all
competition and stand the biggest in Europe.
“I’d like to sponsor your university course.” He started and turned to her. “When you graduate,
you’d work for me for four years, initially as a trainee, living here. What do you think?”
“Sounds much better than a loan.” She smiled openly and paced to him. They stood close to
each other, so close that she had to incline her head back to look at him. Her arms surrounded
his neck as she held him for a couple of seconds, in a thanking gesture.
Mark was taken by surprise. He didn’t expect this show of affection. They had never touched
each other since she arrived at his Georgian mansion. The feel of her was stunning. His hands
lifted to her slim waist in retribution of her affection. But this contact was doing unconfessable
things to his body, spreading a warmness he didn’t recognise. Afraid of losing control, he
backed away abruptly.
Amy wasn’t prepared to feel what she felt when she held him. The heat of his body against
hers, the scent of him, male and aftershave. It coaxed her to come closer; luckily there was
no chance. As her arms disentangled from him she felt his dark hair, smooth over his shirt
As he backed away, they stared at each other as if one was seeing the other for the first time.
His moss-green eyes took on a predator’s edge, narrowing, focusing on her in a peculiar angle,
his head tilted sideways, that made it more intense. He placed his both hands on his hips,
making his suit coat fall behind his fists. His male magnetism all over him.
It became an awkward moment. Amy felt his predator’s look on her and it did strange things
to her body. She paced back and leaned on the window, her hands on her back holding the
window-sill, for fear of doing something foolish. His body language spoke directly to her
instincts, as if inciting her to lie down on the sofa and she resisted it. She had never felt like
this before with him, even though she was more than aware of his primitive magnetism.
That affection gesture unleashed something in Mark. Something that he’d been repressing for
he didn’t know how long. It had been there and he hadn’t seen it. And now it was set free, like
Pandora’s Box. But he had to put it back, quick. He didn’t want to see it and he didn’t want to
“Alright. We have a deal then.” He said, his voice colder than he had intended it.
“And I’ll stick to it.” She tried to smile, but it came out as a grimacy line of her teeth.
That night Mark didn’t sleep well. When sleep did catch him, weird dreams surfaced. Erotic,
molten dreams of them together, entwined arms, legs, sweat bodies, groans. He awoke in a
start, hard and ready. He panted in total helplessness.
The worst part was that he hadn’t told her everything about her father’s death. As her guardian
he had come into information that he didn’t share with her. If he had, things would have been
Amy tossed and turned in her bed as she tried to find the oblivion of sleep, which she had
been denied almost all night. She languished in the sheets and steamy images deceived all
censorship and popped up in her mind in vivid colours, even though she had no experience
at all. Her body assailed by reactions and sensations unknown to her. Her colleagues at school
had dramatic crushes on teachers. Other girls were already dating their male classmates and
discovering sensuality. But Amy was so focused on her studies that she had little time for such
things. Now she had a future and an aim to pursue, no way she’d fill her mind with foolish
The whole incident was forgotten as Amy prepared for the prom. She was very excited about
it. The next few weeks she was all around rehearsals, dresses and invitations. One of her
classmates approached her to ask her to be his date for the party, which got her bubbling in
That evening Amy entered the Georgian mansion and ran up the stairs to her en-suite in such
a blissful state that she fell back down on her flowery bed-spread sighing, open-armed. Hers
had become a real girlie room with ribbon-tied curtains, pink shaded wall paper, brass-boarded
bed and even a doll-chair. She had been given freedom to choose everything she liked during
the refurbishing. She heard Mark arrive, so she sprang down again to meet him.
“Mark!” She stormed in the sitting room, where he was pouring himself some whiskey. “Guess
what?” She didn’t wait for his reply. “Andrew Taylor invited me to be his date for the prom! Isn’t
Mark still had his back to her, facing the bar; he froze, his drink mid-way to his thin sensuous
lips. Cold evil claws squeezed his heart so tight he thought he’d stop breathing. All colour
drained from his face and his knuckles white around the glass. He forced himself to swallow
its entire content as silence lengthened away. Slowly, plastering a false smile on his face, he
turned to her. “Why, this is good news, Amy.”
Of course he knew this Taylor boy. He and Amy had been rather close this last school year
and the boy had been around a couple of times. Certainly, as her guardian, he tried to check
on her acquaintances to keep her from bad influences. And, once more, of course this horrid
feeling wasn’t jealousy! He should be appallingly ashamed of winnowing such a thought about
a girl half his age.
Amy nodded gladly, her silky curls dancing around her face. Her remarkable translucent honey
eyes smiled wide. But then she made the mistake of looking at his moss-green eyes. They
sparkled with something she could not identify precisely and diametrically different from the
smile on his devilishly sensuous mouth. They, his eyes, kept her captive by sheer magnetic
force. She registered him tilting his head slowly, angling his stare in a manner she was starting
to recognise as menacing. Her legs moved backing away on their own accord and found the
back of the sofa. If they hadn’t, the instincts governing her body would rather lie on it in blunt
suggestion. Her hands at her back grabbed the edge to hold herself still and composed. If only
her heart didn’t pound so outrageously, for god’s sake!
Mrs. Smith appeared at the threshold to say that dinner was ready. The awkward moment
dispersed like clouds in the wind.
Mark begun to see Greta more often. The top-model was obviously very interested in him and
he decided to wine and dine her so many times as his work allowed. He had no complaints,
since both had healthy sexual desires. Well, he had no complaints as far as sex went, there
was no further satisfaction there for him. But he dreaded closing his eyes during the whole
thing for his mind took to this hellish habit to drift elsewhere; or should he say ‘else-who’?
For good measure, he also transformed one of his backrooms in a gym. He was probably
getting too sedentary, lowering the quality of his sleep. All the best gym equipment was
installed and he built a dry heat bath and a Jacuzzi. Top-luxury the lot it, of course.
Amy was intrigued. Mark was staying less at home. He came late at night several times a
week and spent most weekends away. Maybe he was involved with one more of his numerous
mistress and she couldn’t imagine why it caused this discomfort she felt innerly. It wasn’t rare
for her to lay awake in the night waiting to hear he come home. And since his gym room was
ready, he had been using it intensively as well.
An alien sense of loneliness crept around her heart. She hadn’t felt like this since her father
passed away. She shivered at the memory. She remembered the hollow helpless feeling she
had after the funeral. All alone in the world, no one to turn to. When Mark agreed to receive
her, she felt like a monumental weight had been lifted from her shoulders. He didn’t have much
time for her, it’s true, but he made her feel welcome there. The weeks that followed her arrival
at the Georgian mansion were full of sadness. Thoughts of her father, her step-mother and
her mother, of whom she little had recollections, had haunted her. Her pillow would muffle her
sobs many a night.
A couple of weeks after her arrival, Mark had had her things come from Cardiff and the
precious memories from her past were carefully kept in her bedroom. But the mourning faded
and she was able to move on. She still felt a tug of discomfort around talking about this period
of her life, even to Mrs. Smith, who she considered her closest friend.
Find the ebook at: Her Irresistible Guardian - Lisa Torquay on Amazon.
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