Forbidden Virgin

by Carmen Falcone

  “If your oral sex skills are anything to go by, what’s best for me would be you screwing me right now. Listen, do you really think I want a guy my age? A guy who’ll finish in ten minutes and not even know the difference if I fake it?” she said, remembering all the late-night conversations she had with her girlfriends after nights out at clubs or parties. Even based on her own experience . . . no one had ever made her feel the way Graham did.

  He waved her off, a silent plea to shut her up. “I’m flattered but the answer’s still no.”

  She heard laughter from a couple of people who walked in their direction. The lack of bright lights and the rock gave them some privacy, so she assumed—and hoped— no one had seen them earlier. “We should probably head back.”

  “Yes, that’s a great idea.”

  She bit back a smile. Insisting on the subject wouldn’t get her anywhere further. Just like a good ballet, there’d be time to advance and retreat. She’d advanced enough for their first non-official date. Now, they’d walk back to the restaurant and he’d drop her at the hotel.

  All her parts tingled with excitement. She’d advance again soon—and what an advance it would be . . .

  “Did you fix the glitch?” Kate asked Greg, her supervisor. For the past week, she’d been interning at Housekeeping, certainly the most hard-working department in the hotel. The ins and outs of the trade fascinated her. She’d practiced her Spanish with some of the employees, and learned what she could about cleaning rooms, time management, and also the software they used to update the status of rooms in the system.

  Greg scratched his head and glanced at the computer screen. “No. It still says that room is occupied.”

  “Who signed on last?” She inched closer to the sleek screen.

  “The housekeeper. I asked her but I’m not sure she understood me.”

  Kate nodded. She’d noticed that one particular unit often showed up as occupied or dirty in the system, but then once when she’d checked it she discovered it was clean. “I can ask her if you’d like.”

  “Sure, she’s off tomorrow but will be back in a couple of days,” he said, fixing his glasses. “It’s probably just a misunderstanding. She hasn’t worked here for long.”

  Neither have I. The past week Graham had avoided her any way he could. She suspected he put her in Housekeeping so she’d be super busy during the day and out of his way. He somewhat accomplished his goal. At night, she’d be so tired it would be a stretch to do anything other than shower and sleep.

  Maybe that was his plan—to exhaust her so she would change her mind.

  “Can you do me a favor? Can you give Clarence these reports?” he asked, handing her a manila folder.

  “Sure.”

  “He’s not in his office; I think he’s in the presidential suite with the big boss, they were talking about a VIP singer that’s going to check in tomorrow.”

  “I’m on it,” she said, clasping the folder in her sweaty palm. When she entered the elevator, she removed the rubber band keeping her hair tight and neat. Thankfully, she had tons of hair and good texture, for soon the layers floated around her face. She fished her lip-gloss from her pocket and applied a coat of sandy pink on her mouth. She wished she wore more revealing clothes than the beige shirt and pants with the hotel logo monogrammed on top.

  When she reached the presidential suite, she knocked, and a couple of seconds later, the always friendly general manager Clarence opened the door.

  “Greg asked me to give you this,” she said, handing him the folder.

  “Oh, thank you.”

  Behind him, she spotted Graham sitting at a fancy sofa looking down at his iPad. “Oh, Mr. Davenport, may I please have a word?” she asked, improvising. Graham wouldn’t say no in front of an employee, would he?

  Clarence nodded. “You know what? I have to take a look at this and we’ve just finished anyway,” he said, waving at Graham. “Thank you for your time, Graham. I think we’ve got it covered for tomorrow.”

  Clarence left, and she entered the suite. She hadn’t cleaned the top floor before, so she studied the surroundings. A huge chandelier hung at the entrance, setting the tone of the most expensive accommodation they offered. Persian rugs added warmth to the white marble flooring. She walked over to face him; he now stood against the open balcony door, the light breeze curling the drapes that framed the gorgeous beachfront view.

  “Is everything okay? What do you want?” Graham asked.

  You. “Are you using the crush I have for you against me? I don’t mind starting from the bottom, but my father told me he’d specifically asked you to show me the reins too, so I have an overall idea of the hotel business in the States,” she said, hoping the mention of her father would get him to stop the ignoring game. A move below the belt, but how else would she carve out some time with him? Damn it, at the beach she could tell he wanted her too. No one should be in the way of their desire for each other—certainly not her über conservative family who were thousands of miles away.

  “You’ll see. I’ll invite you for meetings when I think they are beneficial to you. I’ll let my assistant know. And remember in a few days there’s the Preston ball Mark invited you to,” he said, and she could detect some hesitance in his tone.

  “Thank you.”

  He gave her a once over, his gaze lingering on her mouth. “How have you been?”

  She chewed on her lip. She was done lying—when she first nurtured less than virtuous feelings for him at sixteen, she’d blamed it on her hormones. She’d omitted her passion for him when she’d asked her father to intervene for a trainee program. Hell, she’d been scared to even mention Graham to her friends, scared they might judge her about their age difference. “I can’t stop thinking about our dinner. How you pleased me.”

  Graham ran his hand down his face. “It’s not appropriate to bring it up here.”

  She inched closer to him, but he didn’t back away. Her heart thrummed, and a crazy throb knotted her stomach. “Then where? Where can I bring it up?”

  “Nowhere.”

  “Do you think about it too? Be honest. Because for years I thought this thing I felt for you was so forbidden I couldn’t tell anyone. But when you kissed me, Graham . . . when you kiss me the age difference doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is this,” she said, bringing his hand to her chest. She pushed away his jacket, and palmed his heart. The maddening beats put a smile on her face. “So, I need to know this isn’t just in my head, that I’m not fantasizing about a one-sided attraction. Do you think about it too?” she asked again, drawing a breath.

  He dipped his head down until it touched hers. “Yes.”

  A long sigh escaped her mouth. “Graham. Kiss me,” she said.

  His gaze slid to her lips. “I can’t.”

  She played with his tie, her finger sliding up and down the silky fabric. She felt rather than heard a little tremor from him. “Do you want to?”

  He caught her wrist. “Just a kiss, okay? That’s all.”

  She nodded and he captured her lips with his, this time punishing her. She linked her arms behind his head, and jumping, wrapped her legs around him. He gripped her ass, and walked as he supported her. His tongue got greedier, and she had to come up for air a couple of times otherwise she’d pass out.

  He put her on the sofa, and she slid her hand down. She slid it past his belt, excitement growing inside her.

  “I said a kiss.”

  “You never said where.”

  He groaned, and she chuckled. To know she stirred up an experienced man like him did things to her insides. He pulled her shirt over her head, then abruptly tugged her tits out of her bra without fully removing it. His urgency only added to her own.

  She arched herself to him, and he took one breast in his mouth. She’d never get used to the thread of delight surging through her whenever he lapped his tongue at her engorged nipple. She moaned, and caressed his hair. She loved running her fingers into his textured set of
hair. He cupped her other breast, his palm warm against her prickled skin. “I love when you suck my tits. Gets me so hot, Graham. So ready for you,” she hissed out.

  He grazed his teeth on her, gently nibbling her peak. She could feel her thighs getting sticky and her panties drenching wet. He went back to sucking, and she threw her head back, reveling in the wonderful sensation of having him taste her.

  He slid one hand down her work pants, and she spread her thighs, silently inviting him to touch her in the most intimate way. When his finger stroked her clit through the fabric, she mewled, a shot of pleasure surging through her and making her so dizzy. “You really want me, don’t you, baby? You want to be fucked.”

  “Yes. Yes.”

  “I’m not going to pop your cherry now, but I’ll help you out.”

  “Please, Graham. I’m all yours.”

  He pulled down her pants and underwear, and goose bumps rose on her legs every time a part of her got exposed to him. She should feel embarrassment. This was the second time he saw her pussy and in broad daylight. But all she managed was to rejoice in the toe-curling sensation of being under him, his lips kissing hers, his finger flicking her engorged clit. She humped him, bucking her cunt into him, in hopes he’d change his mind and give her the ultimate release—his enormous, hard cock pumping deep into her.

  “God. Yes.”

  “You’re soaked, baby,” he whispered into her hair, close enough to her earlobe to send tingles of electricity charging through her body. “Fuck I’ve never seen someone so wet.”

  “All for you.”

  His thumb intensified the flicks on her clit, a bundle of nerves sizzling in her sex. The provocation won—his hungry kisses, his thumb working her and the occasional pinch on her tightened nipple did it. Soon, she convulsed under him, ripples of pleasure shifting into an orgasm shaking her from top to bottom.

  “So intense,” she said when the spasms waned.

  “I love seeing you come.” He traced her lips with his thumb. She licked it, tasting herself—tangy, almost citrusy, and she didn’t mind it one bit. Encouraged, she sucked his thumb up and down.

  “Then make me,” she said, realizing she wouldn’t mind coming again. She nipped the tip of his finger, and he groaned. Pure female empowerment threaded down her spine.

  “You greedy, little naughty girl,” he said gravelly and the little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

  Giggling, she rolled on top of him. “Not so greedy. I want to get you off too.” Wasn’t it only fair? Granted, she doubted her lack of expertise wouldn’t show, but she’d make up with eagerness. She wanted to kiss him intimately, as he’d done her the other day at the beach. Every time they enjoyed each other she imagined a chunk of his resolution not to screw her chipped away. She’d keep trying until she demolished all his defenses.

  He shifted, and rested his hands on her legs. “You don’t have to.”

  She leaned closer, enunciating every word. “I want your cock fucking my mouth.”

  His jaw clenched, and for a moment he didn’t say anything. He flashed her a concerned glance, and she would have given anything to know exactly what went on in his mind. She sucked in a breath, worrying if he’d tell her to get off him and get dressed. But once again, Graham surprised her and said, “How did you learn to speak so dirty for a virgin?”

  “I’m a virgin, not a saint,” she said, omitting the amount of erotic novels she’d read when she always imagined herself as the heroine and he as the hero.

  She pulled down his boxer briefs, and he helped her, kicking his pants to the side. She kissed his neck and he said words she couldn’t quite comprehend, which only made it hotter.

  She traced a path of kisses down his neck, licking over his Adam’s apple, reverencing his main vein. Every part of him tasted like heaven. She undid his buttons, and when she opened the whole shirt, she saw the tattoos swirling around his arms. She’d peeked at them a few times in the past and had always wanted to kiss each one of them. Some of her classmates at college had tats—whatever was trendy and hip. But Graham had timeless, bad-ass tribal ink starting on his shoulder blade and snaking down to his wrist.

  She kissed his perfect abs, caressing the delicious bumps and hard ridges under her palm.

  When a path of hair narrowed down to his cock, a wave of warmth spread across her cheeks. Gosh. He was gorgeous, his shaft much larger than what she’d seen in dirty movies—and she’d seen plenty. She contemplated the rush of blood on the underside veins, and how hard he was. His head was smooth, with precum bubbling at the tip, the cue for her to dip her head and lick it.

  He tasted a bit salty but good. She swirled her tongue at his top, fetching his entire sample, and he let out a groan. “Yes, baby. Suck me. See what you do to me,” he said, shoving his hand into her hair and caressing her scalp.

  She licked alongside him, tentatively at first, then she fit what he could of him in her mouth, and sucked him up and down like she’d seen in the movies. She reached for his balls—heavy and full in her hands. She gave them a light squeeze, which seemed to excite him. He growled, the sexiest sound she’d ever heard, then pulled her hair, dictating the motion and rhythm he wanted from her, and she didn’t mind. She followed his silent instructions.

  “Good girl, keep on sucking me,” he hissed out.

  Her clit throbbed, re-awakening, and she almost reached to touch herself but she needed both hands to hold him steady while she sucked his cock because of its large girth—one would not be enough. She abandoned his balls and palmed his length with both hands. She grazed her teeth on his dick, and he pulled her hair a tad harder.

  She focused on his tip again where more liquid bubbled, licking it all. The action made her feel empowered, in control. Naughty. “I can’t wait to swallow all of you.” She’d never imagined doing such a thing to anyone but Graham. The idea of having him inside her in any way turned her on.

  “Not today, love, I have other plans,” he said, and pulled her head gently from his cock, flipping her so her back pressed against the sofa. “I’m giving you a taste of what it will be like when I’m inside you.”

  She blinked, making sense of his words, but understood what he meant when he positioned himself in the apex of her thighs. She wrapped him with her legs, inviting him in, almost not believing her luck. Hope energized her. Did he change his mind?

  Graham brought the tip of his cock and rubbed it against her entrance. She let out a moan, her nipples tightening to an unbearable degree. The contact belted a hot wave inside her, her heart slamming against her ribcage. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded, unable to string words together. He continued to rub himself on her walls, massaging her tender flesh, then he placed his cock at her center and came to a stop.

  “This is your cherry.”

  She knew what his hesitation meant. Fun was over—but did it have to be? “Why are you stopping? I’m on the pill. If you’re safe we can do this.”

  “I am safe. But when I take you, it won’t be in a hotel room with people working outside. I want to make it special for you.”

  Her heart melted into wine, and it must have showed because he flashed her an impossibly sexy and crooked smile. He touched her clit again, and it didn’t take long to get her going, waves of hot pleasure forming inside her. She reached for his cock and stroked him again, wanting to give him as good as she was getting.

  He made a quick, circular pattern on her bundle with his finger, then tapped it, his other hand scissoring her folds. God. She came again, and squeezed his cock, intensified the rhythm on his dick as she quivered and entered a sexual bliss she never thought could be possible.

  “I’m coming on your tits,” he said. “Stay still.”

  He splashed his release on her chest, while he threw his head back and let out a groan that resonated inside her. Within seconds, his cum coated her breasts and nipples, and she slid her finger to get a taste. “Yum.”

  When he finished, he fell
on the sofa next to her.

  She closed her eyes, trying to make sense of what just happened. One step closer to her goal of losing her virginity to him—he’d said when I pop your cherry and not if. Maybe he’d come to his senses and could no longer fight this attraction between them. She knew she couldn’t—then again, it wasn’t like she tried.

  The sofa shifted a bit, and she saw him striding to the bathroom. From a housekeeping point of view, they’d been smart to have sex on the sofa—which meant no changing sheets or making the bed again before the VIP guests arrived. When she heard the sound of running water, she made a mental note of items in need of refreshing: the sink would need to be dried, new hand towel for sure, and a brand new soap. Oh, she’d have to check the trash too. Maybe starting from the bottom is working. I’m already overanalyzing everything.

  Gosh. When he returned, still gloriously naked, she sighed. His muscles shifted and bunched when he walked, and her lips parted. Or maybe her jaw dropped, impossible to know for sure. Graham Davenport was a fucking gorgeous male specimen.

  He carried a sheepish smile on his face, so unlike his usual confident grin, and held a damp towel on his hand. Rather than handing it to her, he wiped his sperm from her breasts, and the fact he’d thought about it quickened her pulse.

  “I’m going out of town tonight to check on other properties in Oahu and Kauai for a few days,” he said, cleaning the remainder of his load off her. She kept watching him and tried not to move. “I come back the day of the Preston ball.”

  “And?”

  He winked at her. “Be ready.”

  She bit back a smile. Ready is not the problem . . .

  Chapter 4

  “Do you have any exciting plans this weekend?” Aaron asked Kate.

  Kate stopped typing on the keyboard and glanced at her coworker. For the past week, the front desk agent had showered her with attention. Not a day over twenty, Aaron was taller than her and had curly brown hair. They hung out once after work and shared dinner, but when he’d tried to kiss her, she withdrew. She’d hoped that had been all she needed to friend zone him. But he kept on texting her, sending her funny memes and making small talk whenever she walked by the front desk, even on her time off—the downside of living where you worked. “I’ll be meeting an old friend,” she said, laughing at the irony. There wasn’t anything old about Graham, but she meant someone she knew before her trip.