Best of Penny Wylder: Virgin Romance

by Wylder, Penny

We fit together. Crazy well.

  He turns in my arms and kisses me again, and this time we both pour everything we’re feeling into the kiss. He leans me back slowly, and I pull his shirt off, wrap my arms around him to savor the sensation of his bare chest pressed against mine, finally, finally.

  Our hands roam all over one another, exploring every inch of our bodies. I pull his jeans off, and he kicks them aside, his boxers too, while I wrap both hands around his cock and savor the feeling of his hard, strong length. He slips my panties off, spreads my legs, and drops his head between them.

  I’m not nervous or scared anymore like I was the first time he went down on me. When his tongue laps across my clit, I tighten my fists in his hair, clench my teeth and groan his name.

  “Right there,” I gasp as he tongues me, again and again, until the orgasm crashes over me.

  He slides up my body to kiss me, and I taste myself on his lips, and already his fingers spread my pussy, play with my clit again, as he smiles down at me. “I could watch you come over and over again forever.” He takes one of my hands, wraps it around his cock. “Feel how hard you make me, Bonnie. Feel how fucking much I love making you come,” he orders, and I clench my fist hard around him as he rubs my clit, so light and fast that I come again, gasping in his arms.

  I have a feeling he’s going to tease me forever, but I’ve had enough. I grasp his wrist before he can start to toy with me again, and pull his hand up to my shoulder. I gaze straight into those pale blue eyes of his. “Fuck me, Pierce Pinewood.”

  He slides his legs between mine, already rolling a condom over himself, and I feel the hard press of his cock at the entrance of my pussy. Every muscle in my body clenches in anticipation.

  “Please,” I gasp, and he finally listens to me. He slides his cock into me in one slow motion, until he’s buried inside me, every inch of him. I cry out, a mix of pain and pleasure searing through me as he spreads my tight walls. I feel my body stretch to take him in, and it feels so fucking right that it’s him taking me, that he’ll be my first.

  “I fucking love you,” I breathe, and he smiles against my lips before he kisses me, hard.

  “I fucking love you too, Bonnie Taylor.” He rocks out of me, slowly, and my hips rise to meet his as he thrusts into me again, harder. “I fucking love your sexy body, and your tight pussy.”

  “Fuck, Pierce,” I groan, and his smile widens.

  “I love the way you gasp my name when you lose control.” He tangles his fist in my hair and leans my head back against the sheets, then bites my neck, trailing his teeth over my skin, just hard enough that I can feel a faint sting. “More than anything, I love making you lose control, Bonnie.”

  I wrap my legs around his hips instinctively, and arch up against him as he starts to thrust harder, faster. Soon we’re both too lost in sensations to talk, and I glance down between us to savor the sight of his thick cock plunging inside me. I wrap my hands around his shoulders to brace myself, and gasp as the sensations start to build within me.

  “Come for me,” he says, his voice sharp with the command.

  I moan, long and low, not quite there yet, trying to obey him, trying to get to the peak. He pulls my body lower underneath him, angles his hips so his cock drags against my upper wall as he fucks me faster.

  “Come on my cock.”

  I cry out, feeling my pussy clench hard around him. A few more quick thrusts and I lose myself in pleasure, moaning his name as I come. He fucks harder now, his eyes glazed, hands tight on my hips, probably leaving bruises, and I fucking love that, I love that he leaves his mark on me. He comes hard a moment after me, groaning through tightly gritted teeth, and while he’s still thrusting, I lean up to kiss him, hard and rough.

  When he’s finished, we both collapse back onto the bed, our legs entangled, neither of us anxious to move. He lays on top of me, and I can feel his chest rise and fall, his heart pound against my breast, the faint sheen of sweat on both of our bodies mingling with the scent of sex in the room.

  “Holy fuck,” I finally manage to gasp, and he laughs, his real, deep laugh, leaning back to watch me as he does.

  “How was that for a first time story?” he asks, smirking, and I tighten my legs around his waist, running my palms down his chest with a smile.

  “I think . . .”

  He raises an eyebrow, waiting.

  My smile deepens. “I think I need a second time, to compare it to.”

  “Is that so?” He leans down to nip at my neck.

  “Mm, I’m afraid so.” I tangle my hands in his hair, running my nails over his scalp, which makes him shiver against me. “And after that, maybe a third and a fourth time too, just to be sure . . . I need a good pool for comparison.”

  Pierce kisses me, and I feel his smile through our joined lips. “Hmm.” He sighs against my mouth, pretending to be put-out. “I suppose I can try to accommodate your demands.” He runs his hands up my sides, and I shiver. “Difficult as it will be to obey. I’ll just have to grin and bear it, somehow . . .”

  I prod his side, fake offended, and he rolls over, pulling me on top of him. It doesn’t take long before I feel him start to harden beneath me again, and as we kiss once more, and he lifts me to position his cock beneath me, then guides me down onto his cock, until he fills every inch of me, I realize . . .

  This is definitely the kind of treatment I could get used to.

  Epilogue

  “Are you sure you remember it all, Gram?” Bonnie is saying. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

  “That’s about as irritating as if I asked you whether you remember how to walk,” Bonnie’s grandmother snaps, though she’s smiling as she swats her granddaughter’s wrist.

  Sitting in the backseat of my chopper, watching the two of them interact, I can definitely see the resemblance. Sue-Ann, as Mrs. Taylor has insisted I call her, might be more than three times Bonnie’s age, but she’s still a spitfire. Not to mention they share the same emerald green eyes, both of which are sparkling in the early morning sun right now.

  Bonnie, for all her fussing, is just as excited about this as her grandmother. And I can see why.

  “Go on, get in the back before your man get’s lonesome,” Sue-Ann orders, and Bonnie leans in to kiss the older woman’s cheek before she hops over the seat to join me. I catch her hand as she comes, and pull her straight onto my lap. Yes, I’ll let her have her own seat when she needs to, but until then, I call dibs.

  I hug Bonnie to my chest, and when her gram turns to study the controls some more, I sneak a hand beneath her shirt to fondle her breast. Bonnie turns bright red and slaps at my wrist.

  “Pierce,” she hisses, half scolding and half loving this.

  I tweak her nipple, and lean in to bite at her neck, when I catch Sue-Ann eyeballing us in the mirror. I drop my grip on Bonnie, though not before the old woman bursts into laughter.

  “Don’t bother to play innocent, young man, I’ve seen it all before,” Sue-Ann says, while Bonnie’s entire face goes bright red.

  She does look awfully adorable when she blushes like that. And it’s so easy to make her do it, too. I grin, and she glares at me. Too bad her angry glowering face looks even sexier. It really puts a damper on her attempt to punish me.

  “Don’t encourage him, Gram,” Bonnie says. As she does, the side door opens, and Henry joins us. Henry has been my pilot since I bought this helicopter almost five years ago. I can tell he’s a little bit put-out about flying backup co-pilot now, since normally that job falls to me.

  “Thanks again for chaperoning, Henry,” I tell him over the headset as he revs up the engine.

  Sue-Ann swats Henry’s hand away from the starter and turns it herself. “Though I don’t see why we need two pilots. In the war, you know, you were lucky if you had one.”

  Bonnie rolls her eyes. “Gram, you always had a pilot in the war.”

  “Not if he got himself shot,” she points out, and we all sober up for a second at the thought. “Luc
ky for my passengers, I’m bullet-proof,” she adds, and with that, she grasps the controls and starts to ease us into the air.

  Bonnie slides off my lap onto the seat next to me, squeezing my hand tightly before she fastens her belt. I can tell from the little tic in her forehead that she’s nervous. I don’t blame her. Her grandmother hasn’t flown a chopper in years, not since she first started to get sick. But the nursing home released her to a full-time at-home care nurse six months ago, and last month they bumped her down to part-time care only.

  “She’s a trooper,” the doctor told us in the waiting room, after he’d finished her exam. “I’ve never seen anything like her recovery. Of course, she’ll have difficulty going forward, and you’ll always need to keep a close eye on her—she won’t last forever,” he added, probably because Bonnie was looking extremely thrilled by the news.

  I could’ve punched him for saying that, for souring the bright expression on Bonnie’s face. But I understand. He’s right. We have to cherish the time we have left.

  Which is why, against the advice of that same doctor, I spoke to Henry and arranged this flight. It was Sue-Ann’s greatest wish—to pilot one last flight before she really and truly gives up the ghost of her old life, and admits she’s too old to fly anymore.

  Henry made me install all kinds of failsafes in the chopper, controls that allow him to take over at a moment’s notice if anything goes wrong in midair, or if Sue-Ann messes anything up. But it was worth the price of renovations to see the look on the old woman’s face now, as we lift off the ground of northern California and into the sky.

  Sue-Ann whoops at the top of her lungs, beaming, and for a second, I glimpse the way she must have looked decades ago, helming airplanes and helicopters alike, young and beautiful and full of life. No wonder Bonnie’s grandfather fell so hard for her. No wonder he loved her passion for flight, and worked alongside her to make her dreams happen.

  I wrap my arm around Bonnie and pull her close to me, squeezing her shoulders. Bonnie gets that same light in her eye when she’s working at the hospital. She’s just starting out volunteering now, bolstering her hours as she continues to finish her classes. I finally convinced her, only a couple of months ago, to quit her terrible diner job and focus on school full-time. She was stubbornly set on supporting herself entirely through school, so it took some convincing on my part to make her see sense. She has a goal in mind: nursing. Any time she spends at the diner or working some crappy part-time job to reach that goal is less time she’s spending actually working in what she loves. If she trusts me and lets me help her out, pay for some of her tuition (“it’s just a loan,” she tells me forcibly every time. “I’m paying you back every cent later”), then she can reach her goal that much faster.

  What I don’t know how to explain to her, what I always fail to find the words to express, is that she has already paid me back those loans a thousand times over. I don’t need money. I have plenty. What I never had before was a home to come back to. A reason to stop making more money, and start spending it. Start enjoying myself.

  You can’t take it with you, after all. That’s what Bonnie and her grandmother are both so fond of reminding me, when they chide me into taking a vacation.

  Hell, last month, Bonnie even managed to talk me into a weeklong vacation in the Bahamas. I have never taken a full consecutive week off in my entire life. I probably still wouldn’t have, if she hadn’t, unbeknownst to me, pulled my computer and cell phone out of my suitcase at the last second and then rushed us to the airport before I noticed.

  I grin at the memory, and Bonnie finally notices I’m staring at her. She leans in to nudge her head against mine.

  “What?” she asks over the headset.

  “Nothing.” I lean down to kiss her softly. “Just enjoying the view.”

  She snorts. “Liar.” She prods my chest, but then settles against my side with a happy sigh. I enjoy the angle, not least because of the view it provides me straight down her shirt, to the lacy red bra she’s wearing, part of a new set I picked out for her last week. Oh, I’m going to do terrible things to that bra later . . .

  But for now, I just hold her tight to my side and watch the late-summer landscape of NoCal drift past beneath us. I never knew I could feel like this. I never knew life could be this easy, or a relationship this simple. Being with Bonnie feels like finally learning how to breathe, after years spent struggling to catch my breath.

  It’s crazy to think back from where we are now to how this all started. To me and her on that crazy website, just clicking one another’s names by happenstance. I saved the photo of her ad on my desktop—I never told her that, but if she ever checks my computer, she’s probably seen it floating past on the screensaver at some point. It was a picture of her smiling, those bright green eyes like emeralds, those blonde curls cascading around her face. It was her eyes that pulled me in, made me click. Made me start to fantasize about being her first.

  I’d never been one for the corruption fantasy, but something about her innocent smile made me recognize that there was a tiger hiding beneath. I got so crazy turned-on by the idea of buying her virginity, being the first man to take her, make her mine.

  I had no idea that in the process, I’d become hers, too. But here we are now, coming up on a whole year later, and already I cannot imagine my world without her. I took her and claimed her, but she claimed me too. I am hers and she is mine, and we make the best damn team in the world.

  “What are you thinking?” Bonnie asks quietly. I blink, startled. I hadn’t realized she was watching me, but she is, her chin tilted up, resting on my chest as she gazes into my eyes.

  “I’m thinking how lucky I am to have met you.”

  “To have bought me, you mean,” she smirks, and her hand slides up my thigh teasingly.

  I reach down to take her wrist, then pull her hand onto my cock. I’m getting harder by the second, especially now that her deft, surprisingly strong fingers are tracing the outline through my jeans. “It was a pretty good purchase, I have to say. Best acquisition I’ve ever made.”

  “Is that so, Mr. Pinewood?” She leans up to kiss me, tightening her grip, and that’s when Sue-Ann clears her throat sharply in our ears.

  We glance over our shoulders to find Henry blushing red and staring out his window, and Sue-Ann smirking in the mirror. “You realize your headsets are on general broadcast, right lovebirds?”

  “Oh my god,” Bonnie groans, as I burst into laughter. “Gram, I can explain—”

  Sue-Ann holds up a hand, though the helicopter remains perfectly steady. The woman really is a pro. “I don’t want to know what the hell any of that meant.” Then her gaze finds mine, and narrows slightly. I feel a nervous sweat break out along my spine, but only for a second. Then she laughs again, louder. “I only have one demand, young man.”

  “Your demand is my command,” I promise.

  Sue-Ann grins. “Take good care of her.”

  I tighten my arm around Bonnie’s shoulders. “Oh, trust me, Mrs. Taylor. I will.”

  Later that night, in the privacy of my penthouse, which Bonnie has already turned into a homier space than I could have imagined, I make good on that promise. Though probably not in a way anyone’s family would want to know about.

  “Oh fuck,” Bonnie groans, arching against my new standing desk, which handily rises and lowers at the touch of a button. Perfect for positioning it at just the right height to bend her over it.

  I pause, my hand hovering on the string of anal beads protruding from her ass. She’s only one deep, and she’s gasping already. “Want me to stop?” I ask, teasing. I already know the answer.

  “Fuck no,” she almost growls. I love when she gets antsy. She’s so easy to tease. I force the beads deeper into her ass, sliding another one, two, three deep, until we’re almost at the largest one. She moans and writhes across the desk. Fucking hell, she is so goddamn hot.

  “What do you think, my sexy little slut?” I run my hands
over her perfect ass cheeks. Slap one lightly, then again as she moans in pleasure. “Do you surrender yet?”

  “Never,” she pants.

  I grin. “That’s my girl.” I slide the largest bead into her, and she cries out in that throaty, sexy way that gets me hard as hell.

  I position myself behind her, spreading her legs and dropping my jeans to run my cock along her slit. She’s soaking wet, shivering with anticipation. “Have I told you how fucking hot you make me?” I ask as I tease her, stroking my cock between her pussy lips, up over her clit, then down to her asshole to brush against the anal toy.

  She quivers, but glances over her shoulder at me, grinning. “Only about a thousand times.”

  “Good.” I plunge into her without warning, my cock sliding deep into her tight, wet pussy. She moans, and I lean over to kiss her neck. I won’t be able to tease her much longer. I’m about to lose control; I want to fuck her more than anything, and I will. But for one more second, I enjoy the view, tracing my hands along her perfect body. “Don’t you forget it,” I tell her, and she smiles at me, turns her head so I can kiss her sexy, pert little mouth.

  “Now will you fuck me?” She bats her eyes.

  I grab her hair tightly and slide out of her. I slap her ass hard enough that the beads jiggle inside her. She groans. “Beg,” I command.

  “Please fuck me, sir. Please, I need your cock inside me. Fuck me hard, sir.”

  I grin. Well. Who can deny a request like that?

  * * *

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