ryswell
patreon
Tomb Raider: Tempting Treasure - 2
🕑 Added 2025-08-09 21:06:05 +0000 UTCAN: All characters are 18+.
- - -
Lara was drifting. Autopilot carried her through the next half-hour. There were more guests to greet, business partners and socialites looking to mingle and network.
Whether the smiles were fake or friendly, whether their praise was empty or sincere, Lara just nodded along. Each face just blended into the next. Lara couldn’t focus. She was a world away.
Ten inches. Those two words were stamped on her brain. Bright neon flashing over and over.
Lara wanted to scoff. It was all so completely and utterly preposterous. Ten inches was absurd - especially for a teenage boy. Lucas Simon didn’t look like he could grow a proper beard and he expected her to believe that load of bullocks?
Ten inches. It was nothing but big talk. Big talk from a silly boy who watched too many movies and read too many “Alpha Male” blogs.
Lara took another sip of champagne. She’d grabbed a second flute for herself. Necessary to keep her nerves in order.
Ten inches. Not even Mark Davies had been that big. Neither had Sebastien.
Lara took in a slow, steady breath. She wandered down an empty hall, remembering those men. Others, too.
Mark, the handsome working class boy. She met him the same year she came back from the finishing school in Switzerland. She was eighteen and ready to enjoy her first taste of adulthood. Her first taste of freedom. He was a year older, charming, confident, and interested. After an evening of hopping from club to club with friends, Lara and Mark slipped away to his place. As large as Croft Manor was, Lara knew they’d never get any privacy there. Mark hadn’t been Lara’s first boy, but he was the first to ever give her pause. But Lara Croft never backed down from a challenge.
Nine inches, Mark had proudly claimed. He’d certainly felt like it. Handling him had been a struggle. At times, it’d even been painful. But through that pain, Lara made a discovery. She tasted a sort of satisfaction that the average man simply could not provide. And from there she was hooked.
Mark Davies, with his blond hair and pretty blue eyes. The boy who spoiled her.
Most who came after him never measured up to Lara’s new, lofty standards. Horny blokes, all of them, but they just couldn’t keep pace. Only a handful ever truly made an impression on the Croft heiress.
There was Sebastien, the Frenchman. Lara had crossed paths with him during one of her trips across Europe. Lara spent a weekend cooped up in a hotel room with him, using every second of that time becoming familiar with his wonderful eight-and-a-half inches. The first man she ever throated. Lara never saw him again after that. A pity.
Years after that came Ken Nakagawa, fellow explorer and lover of history. Tall, handsome, and adorably polite - no doubt owed to his Japanese upbringing. For over a month they traveled together, island hopping across the sea of Japan. And during that time, Ken was all too happy to shatter stereotypes with his prodigious manhood. Lara measured him at just under nine inches. With so little else to do on those long boat rides, Ken became the first man to really test Lara’s stamina.
Then there was Cowboy. The big brute of an American. Over six feet of solid, tanned muscle. Dark hair over dark stubble - and those bold, challenging eyes. He’d been a mercenary, head of security for an expedition deep into disputed territory in Syria. Lara had been hired on as a guide. A boring job in the end, babysitting researchers from threats that never came. At least Cowboy made things interesting. Lara couldn’t recall his name but she definitely remembered that cock. Nine inches and change. Deliciously fat, slightly curved, with a big, round, meaty head. And God did he put that thing to good use. He rode her hard, rode her fast, rode her till she screamed. Lara woke the whole camp tumbling with him. The first man to make her do that. Too cocky for his own good, though. They never would have worked out.
Lara wet her lips. Another sip of champagne tingled on her tongue. Nine months since she’d had a man in her bed. Cowboy had been a year before even that. It wasn’t company she craved so much as talent… and presence.
Ten inches. Not even her swaggering American stud had been that big. The idea that young Lucas Simon had them all beat was… it was laughable. Outrageous.
Lara tried to imagine it in her head. What would ten inches of cock look like jutting out from the teenager’s lean, slender frame? A picture started to form… but Lara quickly banished it away. This was her friend and business partner’s son. A boy not even out of high school.
What in the bloody hell is the matter with you, Lara?
It was luck that had kept her privacy. She couldn’t imagine who awkward it would have been if a guest had found her in that daze. The only company she had in the empty hall were the paintings… and a lone bronze statue. A horned bull, ready to charge.
Lucas Simon wished he had that sort of presence. He was ego and hot air. A big promise he couldn’t possibly back up.
Still… there was a part of Lara that respected his nerve. After all, where would the spirited Lara Croft be without nerve?
She went for another sip of champagne, only to find the flute empty. Disappointing. Her tongue craved more of that buzz.
Ten inches. Lara’s mind started to wander. What would that feel like in her hand? She’d need both hands just to get a decent grip, wouldn’t she? There was no way he was actually that big.
But then again… what made Lucas so damn bold?
- - -
Perhaps it was curiosity that compelled her. Or perhaps it was the champagne. In the end, Lara decided to be a little bold herself.
It took some time to find him. He hadn’t stayed in the garden. And there were guests who wanted to make small talk with her. Lara brushed them off as politely as she could/. Finally, she spotted Lucas lingering by the artifact displays. He was alone, Mallory nowhere in sight. That was good.
Lara made her approach, ignoring the flutter through her belly when the boy caught sight of her. A faint smile appeared on his face. Just like before, Lucas drank her in. His appreciation was open and shameless.
The distance between them shrank and Lara’s heartbeat quickened. By the time they were face to face, her blood was racing.
“Change your mind?” His tone was casual, relaxed. Grating on her nerves.
“My study. Up the stairs, down the left corridor. Ten minutes.” Lara forced the words out before she could think better of them. She took some slight satisfaction in the twitch across the boy’s brow. As if he thought she’d come to him all bashful and blushing.
The real surprise was how quickly he recovered.
“Looking forward to it.” He said. Then he headed off. Before he turned, Lara caught the shine in his eyes. Even through his mask of cool and calm, she caught it. More than just excitement. It was the fire of a man who won the jackpot.
Lara watched him ascend the stairs. A moment later he was out of sight. Lara’s eyes jumped to the grandfather clock at the far end of the hall. The seconds ticked on by. Lara’s gut toiled and twisted.
Ten inches.
Ten minutes from now, Lara would find out for herself.
Time crawled on and Lara’s imagination filled the stretch. She amused herself with the most likely outcome: she’d walk through the door to her study and find a teenage boy looking like a deer in the headlights. A boy who never expected to get as far as he did. He’d be a blushing mess, practically trembling in his expensive loafers as Lara stared him down. She would hold him to his big talk and he would break. Maybe he would have enough nerve to actually drop his pants. Lara would resist the urge to laugh in his face. She wasn’t cruel.
Once nine minutes had passed, Lara started for the stairs. One man tried to wave her down. Howard Caine, from before. Lara passed him by without so much as a glance.
As she turned into the upstairs hall, new thoughts swam through her head. One in particular gnawed at her. She had to consider the possibility: what if Lucas Simon was as big as he claimed? What if his confidence wasn’t a front? What if Lara Croft was walking right into his hands?
She didn’t have time to dwell. The door to the study drew closer with every step.
A thrill coiled through Lara’s belly despite herself. She did her best to smother the feeling. It had been foolish of her to play the lad’s game. Her and her bloody curiosity…
Lara stood at the door. The sound of the party down the hall, down the stairs… that life was miles away. Inside, Lucas Simon awaited her.
Ten inches.
Either the young man was as gifted as he claimed or Lara would have the pleasure of seeing all that bravado melt away. Either way, Lara won.
She opened the door.
Lucas was there, standing with his hands in his pockets. He was observing her father’s old globe, though he quickly turned to face her. The youth flashed her a grin.
“Not a second late, Lady Croft.” He said smoothly. He didn’t bother to glance at his watch.
Lara slowly closed the door. Without looking, she clicked the lock shut.
“My parents taught me it was rude to keep a guest waiting.” She spoke in a cool, calm voice. “And I told you before, I’m no lady.”
“You are to me.” Lucas didn’t miss a beat. He made no effort to hide his looking her over.
Lara let out a tiny scoff. Sweet words. From Lucas there was at least some charm to it. Just enough to keep her eyes from rolling back into her skull.
Lucas was moving closer. A good-looking youth to begin with, but now Lara found herself appraising his dark clothing and the fine way it fit to his lean body. Lucas was handsome, sure. But now in the dim, moody lighting of her father’s study, he looked…
The word dangerous briefly floated to the surface of Lara’s mindscape. She quickly sank it. It was utterly absurd. Armed pirates were dangerous. Cannibal tribes were dangerous. Feral tigers. Giant snakes. Cursed gold. Lucas Simon was a teenage boy. Lara had handled far worse.
The silence had become offensive. Lara crossed her arms.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Permission?” Her eyes pointed to his belt.
“Not yet. Gotta get, uh, fully charged first.” He put his hands on his hips, the shift in his posture drawing attention to his crotch. “Besides, if you want to see it you gotta earn it.”
Incorrigible. Lara imagined how satisfying it would be to slap the arrogant sod.
“Charming.” Lara said dryly. “Is this sort of arrogance an American thing?”
“I’m not asking for much.” Lucas showed no sign of faltering. No nerves. Not a hint of unease. His eyes were hungry. And he was getting closer. “Just a kiss. That’s the price of admission.”
“Please. You’ll make a mess in your pants.”
“You’ve got nothing to lose, then.” Lucas countered smoothly. He was right before her now. In her space. “One kiss to put this cocky American in his place.”
Lara locked eyes with the teen. He didn’t flinch. Neither did she. This was really going to happen, she realized. There came another brief bout of uncertainty, rolling through her innards like waves crashing on the rocks. Lara stamped it out.
Grown men had never troubled her. Why should a boy?
It was the champagne. It was the dry spell. It was her own bloody drive to win. The smart choice would have been to walk away. The responsible choice. But since when had Lara Croft ever walked away?
She’d always been the daring sort.
Lara grabbed Lucas by the collar and kissed him. She didn’t start off slow and chaste. Her kiss was firm and forceful. She had a message to send. All of her experience put into the liplock to remind young Mr. Simon who he was dealing with.
The seconds stretched on. Their noses bumped as their lips slid together. They fell into a rhythm. Lara had expected clumsiness. She expected the lad to melt on the spot. Instead… Lucas was keeping pace. There was pounding in her chest. Lara pulled Lucas closer. He tasted like mint.
It was too late for second thoughts. She let go of his collar, sliding her hands to the back of his neck. His skin was hot to the touch. So was she. As their mouths did battle, the rational part of Lara’s brain was shaken by her latest discovery: Lucas Simon was talented. Far too talented for his age. The implications were unsettling… but not enough to stop.
Lucas’ hands, large and strong, found their way to her hips. His bold touch became bolder as those hands slid to the small of her back. He pulled her even closer. She could feel the heat of his body through his clothes, through her dress. His body felt good. His touch felt good.
His tongue was in her mouth.
Lara broke away. Her face was hot. Her heart was hammering.
“What… the fuck?” She wiped her lips with the back of her hand. Her other hand was on Lucas’ chest. To keep him at bay, she reasoned. His body was so firm.
“You don’t disappoint, Lara.” Lucas pushed back in. Her arm bent as he slid back into her space. She finally noticed his cologne. A faint woody musk. Lara breathed in deep.
“That… Where did you learn to kiss like that?”
“Spin the bottle.” He chuckled, gray eyes alight with memory. “And after that… lots and lots of practice.”
“I’ll say.”
It wasn’t until his smile grew that Lara realized she’d said that out loud. She didn’t get the chance to feel embarrassed. Lucas was kissing her again.
She should have stopped him. He had no right to be so bold. No right to control the pace. Yet she slid her tongue against his. She let his hands fall upon her hips. Let him slide his hands down to her rear. She did nothing as those same hands rose up her flanks. Even through the fabric of her dress, her skin came alive under the teen’s drifting palms.
A tiny gasp rose in her throat when his thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts. But not even that stopped their liplock. It wasn’t until Lara felt his fingers playing at the knot at the back of her neck did she have a moment of pause.
“What are you doing?” A pointed question… but it didn’t hold the edge it normally would.
Lucas kept close. So close his warm breath tingled on Lara’s damp lips. His fingers kept playing with the knot of her dress.
“You want to see what I’m packing? It’s only fair that I get a look of my own.”
“I didn’t agree to that.” Lara’s hands were on his chest again, ready to push. Her fingers pressed into the muscle. She tried not to focus on how much that pleased her.
“Then go back to the party. You don’t need to be here with me. Your house, your rules.”
Lara searched his eyes, hoping to see a flinch, a flicker, anything. There was no such luck. How did a teenage boy come to possess such nerve?
Lara breathed in, taking in another whiff of that musky cologne. It was a little unfair, wasn’t it? If he was the only one losing any clothes…
The noble heiress gave a tiny nod. The teenager’s eyes gleamed brilliantly.
There was the sensation of the fabric sliding from her breasts. Then came the thick air ghosting over her skin. A little tremble down her spine. Lara was naked from the waist up. Undressed in her own home by this boy. And his eyes were devouring her.
Her nerves were wild. A livewire through her whole body, arcing out from the pit in her belly. As Lucas took in the grand display of her bare breasts, his hands moved in slowly from her flanks. His thumbs brushed over the outer swells again and for a moment Lara thought he might cop a feel. She was prepared to slap him if he did. The groping never came. He met her eyes again, his own blazing with pure, primal hunger. Then his arms coiled around her waist. Their lips crashed together.
This kiss was ravenous. Feral. Lara could hardly breathe, could barely make a sound. This teenager was swallowing up her moans. And with her chest pressed so tightly to his, her nipples were scraping against his shirt. Turning hot. Turning hard. He could feel it, she knew. He could feel her.
The thought had her belly twisting with a most wicked delight.
Lara broke away again, gasping. Her heart was thumping in her ears.
Lucas was not ready to stop. He dipped his head down and his mouth sought out a breast. Lara yelped as his hot, wet tongue met her hot, aching nipple. Her legs nearly gave out right then. She could no longer ignore the furnace between her thighs. And she could no longer underestimate this boy’s craving for her.
Lara batted the top of Lucas’ head. He stopped his attack on her tit… only to immediately launch another upon the second. Lara whimpered out a curse. He wasn’t just a good kisser. Lucas was a young man of many talents.
She raked her hands through his dark hair, letting out a hiss as his teeth teased at the soft flesh. He suckled, lashed his tongue, wolfed down the sweet softness of her bosom like a starving man. In the end, she had to pull him away. The peaks of both her tits were wet and glistening by the time he was through.
“You…” Lara huffed. “Are insatiable. And too bloody bold for your own good.”
A smirk crept through the lad’s dazed expression. He must have been in heaven, buried between her breasts.
“You’re no slouch yourself. You know how many times I’ve thought about this? Dreamed about this? Fuck.” Lucas kissed the upper slope of one tit, trailing more up to her throat. He murmured into the crook of her neck. “One little kiss and you’ve got me hard as a rock.”
“There was nothing little about that kiss.”
“Nothing little about me, either.” He boasted, facing her now. He took her by the wrist, leading her hand down. “Feel. Feel if you don’t believe me.”
Lara felt. It was an effort not to gasp.
Lucas had not been lying. Then or now. There was a hardness between his legs, swelling the front of his dress pants. Bigger than her hand could cover. Far bigger.
“Oh my god…”
“You said I couldn’t handle you?” Lucas pushed his groin into her palm. Lara felt the thing stir. “The real question is: can you handle me?”
Lara lifted a brow. Heat surged through her chest, across her face. A flash of that competitive spirit. She gave the hardness between his legs a good squeeze.
“I’m Lara Croft. I’ve scaled mountains. Fought pirates. Drug lords. Mercenaries. I’ve seen more than you can believe. I can handle a man’s cock.”
“So I’m a man now?” Lucas’ grin widened.
That smile faltered as Lara gave his prick another squeeze. Her fingers pressed along the outline of his shaft. Solid meat. Warm through his trousers.
“Feels like it.” Lara enjoyed watching the flicker across his face, all just from her touch. “But…”
“You gotta see it for yourself.” Lucas finished for her.
That was why she sent him up here, wasn’t it? To sate her curiosity. That was her weakness, her curse. Lara Croft needed to know.
“Take a seat, Mr. Simon.”
The young man followed direction without argument, drifting over to one of the guest seats. A Churchill chair, vintage in dark brown leather. Lucas sat down, legs spread. He eyes her silently, patiently. No anxiousness that Lara could see. If he felt it, he hid it well. Just like her.
Lara breathed steadily as she went to her knees. She shuffled forth between his legs. She felt ridiculous, a grown woman crawling before a grinning youth almost ten years her junior. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage. Her hands slid up his thighs.
The bulge was visible even against the dark fabric. Taunting her. Inviting her.
It was too late to stop.
Lara Croft didn’t hesitate. Her hands went to his belt. Then to his fly. Button first, then the zipper. Lara tugged it down as far it would go. As Lucas untucked his dress shirt, Lara took hold of the waistline.
White hot excitement danced through her gut, spreading out like a wildfire. Her blood was up, simmering under the skin. She pulled his pants down, only reaching his knees before being struck by the smell.
Deeper than his cologne. Muskier. Carrying deep into her nostrils and making her shiver. Another shock to her body, her senses. But it wasn’t nearly as big a shock as the sight of him.
Cock lurched out into the open. Inches and inches of it. Pale flesh swollen as thick as her forearm, the shaft smooth but for a couple bulging, twisting veins. It held a slight curve, like Cowboy’s, pulling faintly to the right. It was uncut - though the crown had bloated so large that it had burst free. Lara faced down a head flushed an angry shade of pink. It twitched in front of her face, the enormity swaying slightly from the owner’s heartbeat. And just below, a pair of big, swinging, fuzzy balls. Bigger than the palm of Lara’s hand.
For a moment, all Lara could do was stare. Her lips parted but nothing came. No words. Not so much as a squeak.
Lucas Simon wasn’t simply big. He might have been the biggest Lara had ever seen.
Ten inches. This is ten inches.
“... Fucking hell.” Lara whispered.
“I’m no liar, Lara. Ten inches.” Lucas slid forward so that his cock hung over the edge of the chair. “You ever had a man with ten inches?”
Lara wasn’t listening. Her eyes were on his manhood. That long, thick rod swaying inches from her mouth. The smell was even stronger now, that thick odor sweeping in her nose. Her head was starting to spin but she couldn’t look away from the dick. That young, virile, gorgeous cock.
Her cheeks had grown hotter - other places, too. God, her mouth was watering. Part of Lara loathed this weakness of hers… but it had been far, far too long since she’d enjoyed a nice, fat prick.
Lucas started to stroke himself. The foreskin sliding over the swollen, glossy crown almost had Lara in a trance. She wanted to slap that pink hammerhead on her tongue.
“This is… all because of me?” She wondered aloud, fawning over Lucas with her eyes.
“All your fault.” Lucas grunted, stroking faster. Lara nearly gasped as a thin string of precum poured from the slit. “Walking around looking like you do. Does things to a guy.”
“Then I suppose I have to take care of this…” Lara cooed.
She inches forward until her breasts brushed over Lucas’ naked thighs. He took his hand away, leaving himself open for her. All that cock… all for her.
