The Virgin Diaries: The Complete Series

by Lauren Landish

  “The CEO,” Arianna says, her voice giving away that she’s crushing on him. “Remember when I said he was probably just a rich hotshot? He’s that, I’m sure, but Oh, my God. You know the M&M slogan, melts in your mouth and not in your hand? I think I want to test that theory on him . . . bet I could get him to melt in my hand, and my mouth. Probably a few other key places too.”

  I burst out laughing. “Sounds like you’re interested in learning something, for sure,” I tease.

  “Yeah, well, he’s sexy like it’s his job, and I only get to see him for a few seconds a day, but I damn sure get all the eyeful I can during those few seconds.”

  I grin even though she can’t see me. “That sounds just like you. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get to see him more. They’ll no doubt bring you back next semester after you knock their socks off.”

  She sighs dreamily. “Thanks, chica. You’re right. I got this.”

  “That’s my girl. When you get back, dinner together, okay?”

  “That sounds great. It’ll be weird not dorming together this year, but I’ll admit that having my own place this summer has been kind of sweet. No one but me to clean up after.” I ignore her dig at my tendency to leave my dirty dishes soaking in the sink because it’s a battle we’ve good-naturedly fought more than once already. “And my new digs are right between campus and work, so it’s perfect.”

  “And you can come over to our place anytime.” The words feel good on my tongue . . . our place. “Connor’s going to find himself in charge of a nerd harem,” I joke. “Oh, wait, you wouldn’t qualify. You’re not a nerd.”

  Arianna laughs. “Nope, but I love nerds. Especially you, girl. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”

  “Okay, babe. Bye,” I reply, approaching the math building. Bounding up the steps, I see Professor Patel leaving and give him a wave. “Hey, Professor. I’m feeling good after that final.”

  “You should, Miss Phillips,” Patel says, stopping. “It’s not official yet, but congratulations on your A. It was a pleasure. See you this fall.”

  I’m even more excited as I nearly run down the hall to Connor’s office, closing and making sure to lock the door behind me as soon as I see he’s alone, standing at his whiteboard, writing something I can’t see. “Hey, Professor, can I talk to you about my grade?” I tease, my voice full of faux-innocent naughtiness.

  “Hello, beautiful.” He doesn’t take my bait, staying serious though he smiles. “I can tell by your smile that you heard about your grade. Patel told me. I’m so proud of you.”

  I cross the office, barely giving him time to cap his pen before grabbing him by the arms and dragging him to his chair. “Thank you, sir. This good girl needs a reward for all those long, hard hours of math,” I purr before kissing him. “I can’t wait until after dinner.”

  Connor grins wolfishly. “A reward, you say? Something beyond the A? Maybe something a bit bigger, thicker, harder . . .?” The return to sexy double-meanings as we tease each other is fun, a hint of our previous dips into being bad together.

  He grabs around my waist, pulling me to stand between his spread knees. Holding me in his powerful arms, his lips trail down my neck to the V-neck of my T-shirt, licking and sucking on the mounds of my breasts as he thumbs my nipples through the cotton. It’s amazing. Connor’s touch can send shivers through my body every time, no matter where we are or what we’re doing, but sneaking little trysts in his office has an extra-naughty appeal. I mean, we’re in a relationship, and everyone’s okay with that . . . but sex in the office is still a no-no. But that’s never stopped us before.

  I lift my arms to help Connor take my shirt off, gasping as he doesn’t even undo my bra but lifts my right breast out of the cup to consume my nipple, sucking hard and making me cry his name out softly. “Connor, fuck . . . that feels amazing.”

  “You’re amazing,” Connor says, switching to my other breast. We know we can’t take a ton of time. Every time in his office is truly a ‘quickie,’ but I’ve discovered a passion for both the fast and dirty and the slow and loving. Reaching down, I undo his jeans while he lavishes my breasts with his tongue and lips, nipping at my skin when I wrap my hand around his cock and pump him hard and fast.

  “Mmm, on the desk,” I gasp, letting go of his cock, hurriedly unbuttoning my own jeans and shoving them down my legs to bunch at my ankles. “Hard, baby.”

  I lie on the desk, just like so many times before as Connor pushes his pants down a little more before lining the tip of his cock up with my wet entrance. He teases me for a few seconds, dragging it up to near my asshole. “Mmm, soon, I’m going to take your virgin ass too, and then all your cherries will be mine . . . mouth, pussy, and your tight little ass. All mine.”

  The thought is intoxicating. He’s fingered my ass before, and while it feels amazing during sex, afterward, I can’t help but blush at the dirty things he does to me. I think the innocent blush is part of what he loves about doing it.

  I moan, wondering if he’s going to push into my tight pucker now, but he just teases me. “I got you something,” he groans, voice tight with lust.

  “I can feel that,” I say with a seductive smile, looking over my shoulder at him.

  His cocky grin is all arrogance. “That too, but I meant that.” He lifts his chin toward a long, skinny box on the desk, black with a white ribbon tied around it. “Open it.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to argue, wanting his cock more than any gift, but I hear the order, and before I know what I’m doing, my hands reach for the box. As I try to untie the bow, Connor slips along my folds, rubbing from my ass to my clit with his cockhead, spreading my cream and his precum all over me, making me sloppy wet with the combination of us. I finally get the bow undone and open the box to find . . . a long chain of rubber beads, pearlized white and gradually getting bigger until the ring on one end.

  “What’s this?” I ask, already knowing the answer but wanting him to say it. I bite my lip, waiting desperately for his filthy words.

  He leans over me, covering me with his hard body and pressing me against the hard wood of the desk, to growl in my ear. “Those are the pearls I’m gonna slip inside your ass, one at a time, bigger and bigger, until you’re ready to take my cock in your tight hole. Because when I get that cherry, I’m going to ride you hard, Daisy, and I need you prepared for that. I meant to give them to you tonight, but right now, I want nothing more than to fuck your pussy with them in your ass, filling you so fucking full. Can you do that? Take the pearls in your ass like a good girl?”

  I whimper but nod, so lost in lust I’m unable to form words.

  He lifts off me, slipping the pearls along my pussy to coat them in honey before pressing the smallest one against my ass. “Relax.”

  I exhale and I feel the pearl slip inside. It feels odd, but good. Connor rubs my clit, and as I buck back, searching for his hand, another pearl slides inside. Or was it two? I can’t tell. All I know is I feel full but also empty, my pussy pulsing desperately to be filled too.

  “Fuck me, Connor. Please,” I beg.

  He lines his rock-hard cock up with my pussy, sliding all the way in with one deep thrust. “Mmm . . . you feel so good, satin walls gripping my cock,” he growls as he grinds deep inside me. “I could stay inside you forever.”

  I stifle a cry as he thrusts again. It’s fast, deep, and brutal, just what my body needs as Connor hammers my pussy with his cock, both of us pushing the other higher. I squeeze his cock with every thrust, milking him and encouraging him to give me more, to take me higher.

  Of course Connor can. He grunts and groans, adding to the heat of our intense fucking as he begins to move the string of pearls in and out of my ass, fucking both my holes. It’s like nothing I’ve ever imagined, so much stimulation as he sometimes thrusts into me with his cock and the pearls at once, sometimes alternating. He keeps me on my toes, literally and figuratively, not knowing what to expect as he pounds me into the desk.

  I slap my han
d over my mouth, stifling the cries of my ecstasy so no one in the hallway can hear, even though a part of me wants them to, is turned on that they’ll hear my Professor fucking my student pussy and ass.

  He speeds up, his cock swelling and making me fight back a scream as my body trembles before exploding in a massive climax that leaves me gasping for breath. I squeeze the desk edge as Connor strangles back a cry before coming hard, his warm seed filling my body and making me tremble again in what I’ve come to call aftershock orgasms, tears of joy trickling from the corners of my eyes.

  When it’s over, I sigh happily, totally spent for the moment.

  Connor sits in his chair, pulling me into his lap, and I rest my head on his shoulder as he twirls a lock of my black hair around his finger. “Hey, Daisy? I was hoping you could help me with an equation. Think you can take a look?”

  I blink, a little surprised, but I nod. “Uhh, you need my help?”

  He leads me toward the whiteboard. “What do you think?”

  I look at the equation, then back at him.

  C+D=F

  If it wasn’t for the hopeful look in his eyes, I’d probably be lost. Connor plus Daisy equals forever.

  “Well, first, we need to solve for the variables. What’s the expression for F?” I tease, not wanting to get my hopes up that he means what I think he does. But my heart is transparent to Connor and he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

  Connor nods, going over to his desk and getting a small flat box that he brings back before getting on a knee. “I love you. With all that I am, all that I have, all I ever will have. All I can think of is you. Daisy Phillips, will you marry me?”

  He opens the box, and inside, I see a beautiful string of pearls, and strung on them, resting precisely in the center, is a diamond ring, sparkling on a bed of white satin.

  I swallow and nod as Connor takes out the pearls and pulls the ring from them, making me grin widely. “Yes, Connor! Oh, my God, yes!”

  He slips the ring on my finger, and I hold it up, admiring the sparkly diamond that symbolizes so much more than I’d ever dreamed possible. He kisses me, sweet and deep, just like our love.

  I pull back, telling him, “But you made a mistake in your equation.”

  “What?” Connor asks, the arrogant smirk on his face telling me just how clever he thought he was being. “I thought it was pretty good, myself.”

  “True . . . but like you taught me, you have to identify all your variables precisely,” I admonish. I pick up the marker, adding to the equation so that it reads . . . C+D+1=F.

  Connor’s eyes widen in comprehension, and he pulls me tightly, spinning me around. “As you like to tell me, the answer is still the same. You’re mine. Forever. Both of you.”

  Continue on to read Leather and Lace, Arianna’s Book.

  Leather and Lace

  by Lauren Landish

  Prologue

  Arianna

  Dear Diary,

  I’m a whore.

  Okay, that’s definitely not true. But it might as well be, because that’s what everyone thinks of me. I’ll admit I’ve earned that reputation with the biggest con job since Enron.

  But it’s not all bad. I’ve gone to all the best frat parties, flirted, teased, and had fun grinding on the dance floor like every college girl should. So everyone just assumes the rumors are true, and I don’t say shit to dissuade their thinking.

  Reality, of course, is very different. My biggest secret, the one that no one knows, not even my best friend, is that it’s all fake.

  I’m not a whore. I’m a virgin.

  It’s a front I chose a long time ago, refusing to play the victim to some stupid high school boy’s bragging and society’s judgement. As if Mother Nature’s gifts of tits and ass were something I should be ashamed of, blamed for. But as I played along as the casual hookup-prone vixen, I realized sex meant more to me. That’s when I decided to save myself for The One. He’s out there somewhere, that special man worthy of getting between my legs.

  Not that I have time for that right now when all my time and attention are focused on one thing—my career. Well, finishing school and actually having a career, that is. After watching my parents struggle and how they drank their way through most of the meager college fund they’d set aside for me, I want more . . . more than the dead-end, soul-sucking jobs that barely paid enough to make ends meet that my parents had.

  I’d hoped my summer internship at Morgan Inc. would be the first step toward that glossy, corner-office future I dream of, especially since it’s my first-choice company to work for after graduation. But my hopes of hands-on experience and seeing behind the curtain were quickly dashed, and I’ve spent the last few months answering the phones and greeting people. I’m willing to work and happy to pay my dues, but my desire for more bubbles beneath the surface every day, pushing me for more, more, more.

  And with two weeks left before the end of my internship, I hope I’ve done enough for them to hire me during the school year. Maybe with fewer interns on staff, I can get that shot at the brass ring and really learn the things I need for my future.

  And once I get there . . . then I’ll worry about finding Mr. Right.

  Arianna

  “Arianna? Arianna!”

  I start, sitting up and shaking myself loose from my daydream of me as the boss of a big company, the reality of the plastic chair I’m sitting in mentally replaced by a leather chair in a corner office as I negotiate contracts with other big-wigs.

  Checking the clock, I see I’ve still got a few minutes left on my coffee break. I look up to see Dora Maples standing in the doorway of the small breakroom. It’s not fancy—we’re first-floor, not the executive level, after all—but the coffee is decent and the vending machine has my favorite afternoon pick-me-up candy bar.

  “Yes, ma’am! What do you need, Ms. Maples?”

  Dora sets a large manila envelope on the table, sliding it over to me. “I need you to run this upstairs.”

  “Of course,” I quickly reply. Being a delivery girl isn’t usually part of my job description, but I’ll take anything that gets me facetime with someone upstairs.

  “It’s the Iriguchi property papers, with the seal from the county office. Mr. Blackstone needs it on his desk by one,” Dora says, squinting and scowling at me as if uncertain I’m capable of a simple delivery. “Run up there and hand it directly to his assistant, Jacob Wilkes. Understood?”

  “Consider it done,” I reply, picking up the thick envelope and polishing off the last of my morning tea. “I’ll do it now.”

  Honestly, it’s probably a blessing she put this errand on me. Jacob Wilkes, Mr. Blackstone’s executive assistant, is in charge of the intern program, so I want to stay in his good graces. Even if it’s just saying hello and reminding him that I exist, every little bit helps!

  The elevator ride feels like an eternity, but I take the time to fluff my hair and smooth my skirt, wanting to look my best for the executive floor and Mr. Wilkes. I knock on Mr. Blackstone’s door, but there’s no response. After a moment, I gently ease the door open to . . . what the fuck?

  It’s utter and complete chaos in here. The last and only time I was on the top floor, everything was neat, and while there was a hum of activity, it was organized. This . . . is a loud, crowded clusterfuck of madness, all contained in the vast openness of Mr. Wilkes and Mr. Blackstone’s large corner wing.

  I stand stock-still for a moment, my eyes scanning as I try to make some sense of what I’m seeing. There is a camera crew set up, complete with lighting, a hair and makeup station nestled in the corner, and a man shouting orders as he rubs roughly at his bald head.

  I recognize some of the faces. I helped them sign in when they arrived shortly after eight o’clock for a ‘meeting’. I paid attention to them because of the suspicious way they’d refused to explain so I could log them correctly. The only reason I’d let the large group through was because Mr. Wilkes had come into the lobby to escort them up,
assuring me it was fine. It doesn’t look fine to me though.

  I look around for Mr. Wilkes’s familiar face so that I can maybe, hopefully, complete my mission, but I freeze when I spot, at the center of the craziness, the sexiest man in the whole damn city, Mr. Liam Blackstone.

  I’ve only ever seen him in person in passing. He flies through the lobby each morning as if he can’t wait to get to work, not bothering to acknowledge the peons who sit by the front door, namely me. But he’s undeniably the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Dark hair fixed in that floppy way that looks casual, but probably took him forever to style, atop an angular jawline that begs to be nibbled. And those eyes! Bright blue that can see right through you or pin you with a stare. Not that he’s ever looked at me, but even from the company website, that much is obvious.

  The rest of him is just as well put together, lean muscles on his tall frame and an overall aura of ‘I’m in charge.’ Right now, he’s standing in the middle of the maelstrom, a patient, almost amused look on his face and looking like ten million bucks in a custom-tailored pair of black slacks and a slim-fit dress shirt that’s open at the neck.

  This close, he’s nothing at all like the glances I’ve caught of him as he goes through the lobby. From fifty feet away, he’s handsome and sexy. At fifteen feet, he possesses a magnetic aura that seems to envelop the room. He’s like a rock star, a general totally in his element, commanding everything in the middle of anarchy.

  The slight crunch of the envelope in my hand forces me to pull my eyes away from him. I continue my scan, finally seeing Mr. Wilkes, and walk over. “Mr. Wilkes, sir?”

  He barely looks up from the tablet he’s poring over, obviously too busy to be interrupted, but I have a mission. “Ms. Maples sent me up with these. It’s the Iriguchi property papers?” I hate that I ended that sentence on a lilt, as if I’m unsure. It makes me sound weak, and I’m not. But I am a bit in awe of this whole scene, more fashion shoot than the business meetings I’d expect to see on this floor.