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held me close. Tyson wanted me to be the mother of his children. But did he seek to make me anything more than that?
    A cry from across the hall told me these thoughts were for another time. I reluctantly left my heavenly bed, and rushed across the hall. My nearly six-month-old charge called for attention. I picked him up, caressed his back, and rocked him. It didn't take long for him to calm down, perhaps realizing that I was here  to show him motherly love. The love he didn't receive anymore.
    I hated to think about why. Tragic, it clouded so much about my relationship with the man who had hired me as a caretaker for his infant son. That's my job description, anyway. Full time babysitter, to give the child all the attention he needed.
    With Ty Jr. calmed after a few 'it's okays', I set him back down, twirled my finger at him a bit, made some baby noises, laughed with him, and gave him his teething keyring. I was usually more involved with the children I cared for, but my job was secondary to my thoughts, and what I had left next to the sink.
    Ty's needs tended to, I returned to my bedroom - and to my bathroom. On the counter sat perhaps the main reason Tyson Knight had sought me in the first place. A disposable home pregnancy test with ridiculously expensive packaging. I had little reason to believe it was different than what I could grab from any pharmacy. It was preferable to Tyson's other suggestion to track my pregnancy status, though. He wanted a full time gynecologist in house. I had to put my foot down somewhere, and it wasn't going to be constantly through cold steel.
    I had been away for five minutes - the test had to be done. I picked it up: Negative. I sighed, only to have my attention snapped away by the hands grabbing my waist. His strength and firmness were all so delightfully familiar now. "I see we have bad news, Marci."
    "I suppose." I was less crazy about the idea than I was when I had first given myself to him. I looked into the mirror at the man who embraced me. As he hiked up my dress and slid his fingers under my panty and to my pussy, I was quick to remember why I did. Paralyzing was the only way I could describe him. Tyson Knight was thirty six years old, but he put some of the teen idols I had fawned over to shame. A chin you could break stone on, an expertly groomed beard that tickled my face, my body, my thighs, and everything else as I enjoyed him. He had a strong imposing body, a man who moonlighted at the gym when he wasn't building an empire.
    But that wasn't all of it. Someone could have been a hot, sexy Adonis and not captivate like Tyson Knight did. Charisma, presence, whatever one wanted to call it, Tyson had it. From the first moment I had seen him, I'd known I would be powerless to his every command. He just had a way of moving, speaking, that made a woman desire to be his.
    "No worries, my young beauty. I highly doubt you mind our continued efforts." With the last word, a thick finger plunged deep into my pussy. Well past where the hymen he had taken from me once rested. The sheer shock of entry forced a gasp from my lips.
    "Uh huh," I managed to murmur, another finger entering my slick folds. Slowly, delicately, he was building my fire, and my appetite for him.
    "I know you'd like nothing more than for me to bend you over this sink and fuck you raw."
    "Uh huh." He had come to love that response. My near incoherence showed that I was lost in him. That my mind, as well as my body, belonged to him at that very moment.
    To my great regret, he pulled his fingers out and placed his arm over my shoulder, guiding our faces to the mirror as he caressed my hair. "Unfortunately, I want to conserve your energy. Tonight, I am hosting a ball with the other financial heads of the city. The first gathering I've hosted since the, " he paused, his eyes shooting down, "tragedy."
    He held me closer, tighter.
    "I have told you that, above all else, the super wealthy care about status and