The Debutante

by Magnolia Mason

  “Oh, fuck, baby… you’re so tight.” His eyes were closed as he paused there and pulsed his hips, opening me up to accommodate his girth. “God, you’re so hot and wet. You’re not… a virgin. Are you?”

  “Not anymore.”

  I squeezed him and moved my hips, grinding myself against him. It was an instinct.

  He groaned before kissing me and gathering up my ass in his hands. He lifted my hips for a better angle.

  “You should have told me, baby. I wouldn’t have taken it.”

  His words cut off as a moan of pleasure escaped his lips.

  “No way.” I purred as he flipped me over onto my belly. “It was yours all along. I was saving it for you. Only you.”

  “Fuck,” he hissed as he thrust hard into me for the first time. The sting of virginity turned into a deep, delicious burn as he rode me with short, hard thrusts.

  I wondered how good my ass looked to him from this new angle, if my waist looked small and my shoulders dainty.

  Who cares, I told myself as I pushed those thoughts aside. It feels good.

  He seemed to love it, the way he was gripping and slapping and squeezing my ample ass. He reached around and found my clit, and was rubbing it like mad while he started to fuck me harder, driving into me like a beast.

  A squeal escaped my lips at the sudden roughness. It was addictive. Overwhelming. Honey poured from me, wetting my inner thighs.

  Every hard thrust made my whole body shake and jiggle. He grabbed all my soft parts, squeezing them with a moan while his cock worked me like a piston. The feel of his fingers on my clit and the thick, full feeling of his cock inside me sent me higher and higher. I was almost at the edge.

  “Come on, baby,” he growled as he bent over me. Sweat dripped onto my back as his thrusts got faster and faster, as his fingers played my body like an instrument.

  “Ooooooo,” I crooned as the wave of pleasure got stronger and stronger, curling my toes. “Oh god! Oh! YES!”

  It crashed over me like an ocean wave, tumbling me around until I didn’t know which way was up. The feeling of fullness inside me was overwhelming—it squeezed out a gush of hot honey, which ran down my legs in rivulets and soaked the sheets.

  “That’s it… isn’t that good?” he growled as he took me hard. His hips curled into me as he lost control. His whole body tensed and he gripped me, driving into me with a long groan as he came hard.

  “God, yes,” he uttered harshly as he thrust deep, deep into me.

  The sudden rush of heat as he erupted filled me up to the point of overflowing. I’d never known how much I wanted him before that minute. It was like a drug, making my blood glow in my veins. I never wanted it to end.

  He laid atop me as I collapsed beneath him, still buried to the root inside. He stroked me softly between the legs as we laid there, pressing firmly to wring out every last bit of pleasure inside me.

  Sweat and our juices glued us together. We lay there on the bed while the storm raged outside. I was so sleep and happy, I couldn’t begin to think of anything outside that bed. Outside those cabin walls. Even though I knew we’d done something so wrong and forbidden that we could never tell anyone.

  “Cass,” he whispered at last as he pulled free, leaving me empty. I stung between my legs, but it was a good pain. Sweet. “We… I shouldn’t have done that. I just couldn’t help myself.”

  “I wanted it, too.” I caught sight of myself in the old antique mirror across the room, naked and flushed and curvy. “I’ve always wanted it.”

  “You did?” He sounded genuinely shocked. Beads of sweat stood out on his neatly trimmed chest. I touched the salty droplets, running my fingers over his skin.

  “Of course. From the moment I first saw you. I just didn’t know for sure until later.” The reality of it hit me. I loved him. He was all I wanted, but I could never have him. I felt the strangling tightness of despair in my throat. “What do we do?”

  He gathered me close as the rain poured down the window in a voluptuous black sheet. He nuzzled me and kissed my shoulder, my neck, my lips.

  “That’s for the morning light, baby. Not now. Now is for us.”

  “I love you…”

  “I know, honey. I love you, too. Forever and always. I’m never letting you go.”

  He pulled back and looked at me with a roguish grin.

  “My little debutante.”

  Chapter 4

  “Cassy, where’s your dress, honey?”

  My mother’s voice was soft as silk, but a shiver went down my spine nonetheless. She was like a bloodhound. She always seemed to know—just know—when something was wrong.

  I swallowed a mouthful of sweet tea and turned away, pouring the rest of the glass into the sink to buy time while I thought up an answer. She went on slicing cucumbers for salad, seemingly unaware of the drama unfolding in my mind just inches away from her.

  “It’s upstairs in my closet, I’d imagine.” My voice didn’t shake when I answered her, but my insides were jiggling like jelly. I met her eyes and turned back to rinse my glass out.

  Oh, god, she knows… she’ll ask to see it. Then what?

  In truth, the dress was at the cleaners two towns over. Jack had taken it there the morning after the debutante ball… the morning after our night together. It was speckled with blood from the fight and the tulle was torn; he couldn’t take it anywhere in town without word spreading and questions being asked, and that was the last thing we needed. We had to be discreet.

  “Well, be sure to keep it the garment bag. We can’t have it getting ruined. You know, that fine white silk will turn yellow if you don’t keep the air away from it.” She wiped her hands on a cloth and walked up behind me, squeezing my arm softly. “Someday, your little girl will wear it to her coming out. Can you imagine?”

  Her voice sounded so dreamy. She smiled and turned away, walking from the kitchen in a daze. She’d been acting odd since the debutante ball. As if she was walking on a cloud. I supposed it was because I did her proud. I danced well and delivered my recitation perfectly—hell, I even danced with Cash Jackson, the most eligible guy in the parish.

  She was probably picking out the china and color theme for our wedding and dreaming of grand-babies.

  I shuddered to think of it. After what had happened, after Cash attacked me in the dark and tried to have his way with me, I couldn’t stomach the thought of being in the same room as him let alone marrying him. But mother didn’t know what had happened. She couldn’t. I’d never live it down if she knew I’d gone to be alone with him at the ball. She’d say You had it coming. That I was a hussy and a loose woman. That everyone in town would ostracize me. That my social life was over, as if that was the worst possible outcome in that situation. No, she could never know. No one could.

  Once she was gone, I grabbed a baggie of chips and headed upstairs. I’d been on tenterhooks for days waiting to hear from Jack, but my phone was woefully silent.

  He’s just being careful, I told myself, but some part of me—the louder part of me—said He used you. Who’d want you? And then I’d eat a bowl of ice cream and pralines to feel better. It’s a total cliche, but food always made me feel better.

  I settled into the chair beside my window and stared out at the leaves dancing in the late afternoon breeze. At the worst of times I ate my feelings, and this was a pretty bad time. I worked my way through half a bag of chips before tossing the rest in the trash.

  Don’t ruin yourself, I chastised myself silently. I caught sight of myself in the mirror with my soft tummy and thick thighs. Too late.

  Without the grandeur of the debutante ball, the makeup and hair and dress, I was just as plain as ever. Not a girl that a man’d risk his reputation for. Not a girl to steal a man’s good sense. As I stared out the window, I convinced myself that all the sweet words Jack’d said to me were smoke and mirrors. A petty little spell he cast on me.

  No—don’t think that way. He loves you. He said so.

 
I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes, conjuring up that night and the morning after… I’d woken slowly, stretching my arms and legs beneath the warm blankets, basking in the morning sun streaming in the window. A pleasant soreness permeated me… and I smiled.

  I’m not a virgin anymore, I’d thought with a giggle. I’m a woman.

  “Jack?” I’d whispered in a voice thick with sleep as I sat upright and looked around.

  The cabin was empty, but warm. He’d banked the fire in the wood stove and it was burning bright.

  That’s so thoughtful, I’d thought. It was just like him to do something sweet like that. Even when I was a girl, when he and my mother’d dated, he’d always thought of me. He’d bring me chocolate and magazines when I was crampy, and he’d play my favorite song each morning so I’d start off my day happy. He made it easy to love him.

  I climbed from bed and grabbed the flannel shirt he’d dressed me in the night before. It still smelled like him. Like us. Like the loss of my virginity and the finding of my womanhood. I pulled it tight around me as I padded on bare feet across the cold wood floor. Blistering heat poured off the wood stove. I basked in it, letting it warm my naked legs.

  Memories of the night before flooded me as I warmed my curves in front of the fire. Memories of Jack saving me from Cash. Of his big, strong arms carrying me home. Of him filling me up and making me whole.

  A shiver of remembered pleasure washed over me… along with a pang of fear. It was all a dream, really. An impossible dream that was over and dreamt, never to come again. It couldn’t be real. It was forbidden.

  Tears stung my eyes as I looked around the simple room. I could see the outlines of our bodies imprinted on the rumpled linens and smell us both lingering in the air. I closed my eyes and conjured him up. Jack, the man who was almost my daddy at one time. Now he was so much more. The man who would break my heart. And mend it.

  “Morning, honey.” His voice rumbled behind me as he stepped in through the front door. I’d been so lost in thought, in reliving the night before, that I hadn’t heard him opening the door.

  “Morning,” I replied. I wanted to run to him, to throw my arms around him, but I restrained myself. I felt awkward and a little haggard. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and saw last night’s mascara shadowing my eyes and the sad remnants of my debutante hairdo hanging limp around my round face.

  He offloaded an armful of wood and came toward me. His movements were slow and deliberate, like how one might approach a wary animal.

  He’s just as scared as I am, I realized. A strange little smile bent his gorgeous lips as he shook his head and wrapped me in his arms.

  “You.” He whispered that one little word, and everything in the world was forgotten. He kissed my hair and neck as he held me, as he enveloped me with his loving embrace. I forgot all about my makeup and hair, my squishy tummy and unwashed body. “You’re a dream.”

  His prickly five o’clock shadow rasped my cheek as he moved to kiss me. It felt deliciously painful on my sensitive skin. Our eyes locked at the same time our lips did, and I felt myself falling into oblivion.

  Heat and softness, strength and weakness all mingled inside me as I melted against him. I could be strong for him, and vulnerable. I could be anything. He made everything possible.

  “Jack…” I whispered into his mouth as his kisses turned ferocious, as he guided me backward toward the unmade bed, pulling off my flannel shirt. “Jack…”

  I was naked, exposed in the clear light of morning. And I didn’t care. I wanted him to see me, all of me, every little flaw I hated. All those dumb things I despised about myself were burned away in the fire of his kisses and the hunger of his embrace. There was urgency in it when he ripped the buckle from his belt and unleashed his desire.

  “Oh, god,” I whispered when I saw his hungry hardness. It was all I wanted. I was throbbing between my legs, hungry in a way I’d never been before. Desperate for it. The way he looked at me… well, it was like a drug being desired so much.

  “Cassy,” he pushed me down and ran his hand over my body as I wrapped my hand around his thickness, stroking it gently. He palmed my breasts and kissed them, suckling oh-so-gently on my nipples until I gasped. He was so gentle. So sweet. But I wanted something else. I wanted it hard. Rough. Wild. I wanted reality to burn away in the heat of his desire. I needed him to blot out the world forever and ever and ever.

  “Fuck me,” I whispered into his ear as he bit my neck.

  A growl rumbled in his throat. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head as he kissed me hard and deep, biting my lip gently.

  “Is this what you want, baby?” He growled as his cock smacked against my sex. “Tell me.”

  “Yes… just… make me cum. Fuck me hard… do it.”

  He slipped inside me and up to the hilt with one long, fluid motion, making me cry out. I arched off the bed, pressing my belly against his. Our bodies moved as one, totally in sync. A chorus of moans and cries filled the cabin as he took me, ending with a whimpering sigh as I came. He groaned and scooped me up, filling me with his hot, sticky seed, pumping himself empty into my hot vessel…

  Sitting in my bedroom at home days later, I could still feel him inside me. I pressed my hand to my belly and stood up, brushing chip crumbs off my top. It wouldn’t do to sit there stewing. He’d call… or not.

  He’ll call, I thought with a resolute nod as I bent over and looked at my bookshelf. He loves me.

  Reading was forever my salvation under difficult circumstances. There wasn’t a crisis—major or minor—that I hadn’t weathered with a book in my hands. My eyes scanned the shelf searching for just the right thing to read. Something sad and romantic and tragic, something that dwarfed the conflict in my life… Jane Eyre.

  Sure, why not, I thought as I grabbed the dog-eared paperback and headed outside to my favorite reading spot beneath the willow tree.

  The house was quiet and still, as always. It was a marble-floored mausoleum filled with absurdly expensive things no one ever looked at or touched. Not a home. Not like the cabin. Even in bare feet, my footsteps echoed against the high ceilings and walls until it sounded like there was an army marching with me.

  “Cassy, honey?”

  My mother’s voice chimed in as I walked down the hall past her sitting room. It was filled with ferns and white wicker chairs. She sat in a rocker by the window working on needlepoint. Somewhere down the hall, the grandfather clock chimed the hour.

  “Yes, mother?”

  She set her needlework aside and stood up, smoothing her skirt with her French-tipped fingers. She wore a funny look on her smooth, white face. As always, her lips were perfectly pink and her cheeks glowed with the barest hint of rouge. Eyeliner as thin as a whisker set off her ice-blue eyes. Looking at her, I don’t know where my hazel eyes and dark hair came from, nor my high cheek bones and sturdy frame. She was a delicate little thing made of china; I was something made of clay.

  “I just wanted to say how proud I am of you, of how well you did at your coming out. I know… I know it’s not terribly important to you, honey, but it’s a big step. You are a fine young lady.”

  She spoke softly, almost apologetically, with tears in her eyes. It meant everything to her, and almost nothing to me. My heart softened a little seeing her like that, proud and yet fearful of telling me so.

  “Thank you, mother. I’m glad I did well. That I made you proud.”

  She smiled and nodded, then moved a little closer. I could smell the Shalimar on her, hanging around her trim little body like a vanilla cloud.

  “About that. Everyone was really pleased to see how well you and Cash got along. He’s a great boy, he really is.” As she spoke, the hair on the back of my neck prickled. There was such earnest and innocent excitement on her powdered face. “Well, honey, Daddy Conrad has made arrangements for him to come for supper one night this week so you two can get better acquainted. Won’t that be nice?”

  “Wha
t?” I gasped softly. Adrenaline pumped through me. I wanted to run, to hide, but I couldn’t. I was trapped in a net of society and expectation. “No…”

  “Oh, it’ll be great, honey. Don’t be nervous.” She smiled and pulled me close, hooking her arm through mine, totally misunderstanding me, as always. “You’re so lovely, sweetie. We’ll just… well, we’ll take you to get your hair and nails done. Get you a nice little frock to wear. It’ll be so nice, don’t you think?”

  I was dumbstruck. No way. There was no way I’d eat dinner across from that snake! But what could I do? I couldn’t say no without saying why. I forced a smile on my face and nodded. I could think of a way out of it later. In fact, I had to for my own sanity.

  “Yes, mother. That sounds very nice.”

  “Good girl.” A huge smile spread across her face. She was radiant with joy as she patted my arm. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

  Chapter 5

  “What about this one?” My mother held up a lacy little dress. It was pale pink and oh-so-darling. Just the sort of thing I wouldn’t be caught dead in.

  “I don’t think so, mother.” I sighed and flipped through the rack. Everything was candy-colored and frothy with lace. Frivolous and fancy and fake.

  “Well, alright, Cassidy. I just don’t know what you’re after. It’d help if you told me, dear.”

  “Something… I don’t know. I’ll know it when I see it.”

  “Oh, that’s very helpful, Cassy.” She sighed and crossed her arms. “Honestly, I’ve never known a girl as picky as you.”

  “I’m not picky, just particular. There’s a difference.”

  “Not hardly, honey.” A buzzing came from her phone and she pulled it out, carefully working the touch screen to respond. “I missed a call from Conrad, dear. Just go on and browse while I take this.”