V-Card For Sale – A Billionaire/Virgin Second Chance Auction Romance

by Ana Sparks

  “After that night, instead of picking myself up and moving on, I let that humiliation define me, I let it grow into a dark cloud that always followed me, blocking out the sun of possibility. I let it be the reason for all my failures, whether in love or in my business. I let history repeat itself time and again, all because I refused to learn the lesson. But these past few months, it’s all become clear to me, thanks to you. You showed me what a second chance looks like, not just for forgiving others, but for believing in myself. You brought back the past with all its snarling implications, shoved the mirror in my face—and you want to know what I saw?”

  Silence. I smiled.

  “I saw a frightened little girl. A little girl who was so determined to avoid getting hurt that she assumed the worst of people and life before she’d given either of them a real chance. She ensured herself failure, so she wouldn’t have to deal with the disappointment of missing success. She put all her power in an event that had happened over ten years ago, instead of keeping the power where it had always been—in her two hands.

  “What I’m saying is that we can’t control the tragedies that befall us, but we can always control what we do about them. And you taught me that, Clark. You with your truth and your forcing me to make hard choices.”

  I bit my lip and paused.

  “You forced me to grow as a person, to learn what true forgiveness is—and true bravery. Because this, all of this, has been nothing short of terrifying. The whirlwind dates and your 100-mile-an-hour courtship and just…you. You’ve taught me about conquering my fears and opening myself up to be hurt again. Because that’s what’s this has all been about, really. Opening myself up to be hurt again by you, time and again—forgiving you and believing you and being brave, despite everything in me shrinking back from these overpowering feelings, this love.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is how my love for you scares me and exalts me in equal measure. How hours disappear into breathless seconds with you. How my whole body thrills at even the thought of you. How every single day I feel as though I can’t love you more, and every single day I’m proven wrong. And I just want you to know, here and now, that you are far greater than you know. Not just in terms of how sexy and charming you are—which, let’s face it, you are fully aware of. It’s more than that. It’s your kind heart, and your funny irreverence. It’s the way you squeeze my hand, the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice. So, I guess what I’m ranting on about, is that it’s you, Clark Denton. You’re the one for me.”

  Now the applause was more like an earthquake, one which Clark joined in. He clapped exuberantly, while his face looked happier than I’d ever seen it. Next thing I knew, Mr. Hartery was putting the crowns on our heads and a familiar song was coming on.

  “Now, for the first dance,” Clark said and that’s when I realized it. This song had been playing when my name was announced last time, when I was humiliated.

  And, as Clark took my hand and led me to the once-again empty dance floor, I understood. History wasn’t repeating itself, no, it was righting itself. With his hands on my waist and my arms around his neck, with our foreheads pressed together, everything was happening as it should have ten years ago. I closed my eyes and Clark kissed me again.

  I opened my eyes as Clark whispered, “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that everything—absolutely everything—is perfect.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Clark

  She said “yes.”

  As I gazed into the eyes of the beautiful woman in my arms, the realization kept repeating in my head. She said yes—and my life was never going to be the same again.

  Yes, the longer we twirled on the dance floor, the more certain I was becoming. This was the start of the rest of my life.

  She looked so stunning in that dress that I wanted to take her face in my hands and kiss her. I wanted to kiss and kiss her and let the kisses lead me where they would. As I smiled at her and she smiled back, it took everything in me to resist this urge.

  It only grew when we dashed into the photo booth and took photos with every prop they had, when we raided the food stand for handfuls of mini brownies. So, as we sat side by side, my arm slung around her, I did it. I kissed her.

  I kissed her and everything went quiet—the music, all the murmurings of our classmates, even the whirr of the overhead fan. It went quiet and, drawing back, in her ear I whispered, “Want to get out of here?”

  Still mid-chew, Kristin grinned and declared, “I wanted to leave ten minutes ago.”

  I grabbed her hand and we left, speed walking out of the school, smiling at everybody and nobody in particular. The whole ride back to my place, we could barely keep our hands to ourselves, but by the time we pulled up to my house, we were just getting started.

  As the car rolled to a stop, Kristin pressed herself to me.

  “I can’t wait,” she said breathlessly. “Let’s do it now, here.”

  The way her lips parted as she said it, her half-lidded eyes; there was no resisting her. When the driver opened the door, I leaned over to hand him a stack of $20 bills.

  “If you would be so kind as to allow us another hour or so.”

  The man’s aquiline face betrayed no emotion, he only gave a curt nod and then closed the door again. The next second I was on her, kissing the lips I loved so well, my hands tracing the body I had missed so much. Her dress slipped down easily, revealing a rhinestone-covered bra underneath. Now, Kristin was kissing my neck, nibbling and sucking and goddamn, I was ready to take her right then.

  But there was still the rest of her dress and her bra and underwear between me and her. I undid and removed the bra easily and she helped slip off the dress and underwear. And then, there she was, completely naked and completely beautiful. My Kristin. Her porcelain skin was as soft and cool as marble, although her pussy was hot to the touch. I only brushed against it with my fingers as my lips devoured her neck.

  Her moans were soft, but my dick was hard. I guided her hand to its spot in my pants, and she began running her fingers along it. While she undid my belt and pants, I teased her, slipping one finger in her pussy and out, enjoying the blossoming wetness. When I slipped a finger all the way in then all the way out, she paused to give me a desperate, furious look.

  “What’s that?” I asked, teasingly, doing the same full in-out pump.

  She pouted and the word came out: “More.”

  “Oh yeah?” I said, repeating the motion.

  Lips parting, hands working away at undoing my pants, she nodded. Grabbing my bare dick now, she got up in my face, bit my lower lip.

  “More.”

  So, I did it, I pushed both fingers in and got pumping while her delicate little hands slid all over my dick.

  “Spit on it,” I instructed her, “Make it wet so you can jerk it nice and smooth.”

  She did as she was told, and now I was groaning too. Both of our hands moving and our pelvises twisting with pleasure, the next thing to do was obvious. Taking both her hands in my one hand, I pressed myself onto her in a kiss. As my lips met hers, so did my dick meet her pussy, the tip nudging into the tight cleft.

  Pushing me back, Kristin’s gaze on my now rock-hard dick, she directed her demand to my dick: “Now.”

  I tilted her head so it was face to face with mine.

  “What was that?”

  In response, Kristin shoved her pussy onto my cock. Gazing into my eyes with a wild, desperate look, she murmured, “Fuck me. Please.”

  I had no choice but to comply.

  In and out I thrusted, while her pussy clasped my dick. Her pussy was so tight, such a perfect fit, I thought I was going to cum right then and there. But when I heard her breathing go shallow and saw her start to arch her back, I knew I had to keep going. So, on I pounded her, as hard and deep as I could. And—fuck, it felt so good—I was almost there, but she was almost there too. Her whole body was shaking with the oncoming orgasm.

 
I kept going until we were both on the edge, breathless with pleasure, locked in motion, thrusting and clasping and thrusting and I grabbed her hair, looked her in the eye and shoved my tongue down her throat. Pulling away, she came—in gasps, in body-shuddering cries. As our bodies continued their harried pulse, as I streamed load after load into her, as she cried and I groaned, and we came as one beautiful body of pleasure.

  Afterwards, both of us trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure, I slipped out of her. And then, she naked and me half-naked, we sat there on the limo’s cool leather seats, probably supposed to leave minutes or maybe even an hour ago. It didn’t matter. Now, there was nothing to do. My arms were around her, her body leaned into me, this was enough. There wasn’t another thing we wanted to be doing. Just her and me—that in itself was enough.

  The rest of the night in my house was more of the same. Our bodies were never not touching, except when one of us slipped off to the bathroom. Eating, bathing, sleeping—everything was just an opportunity for more physical contact, for more adoring looks and soft smiles. We talked but of what I couldn’t tell you. It was a constant conversation, a never-ending laugh, and a grin in word form. We were love incarnate; we were making love in between whispered conversations in bed. We fell asleep the same way, clasped in each other’s arms and talking until the sun came up and we passed out.

  When we woke up, she looked so beautiful; I had to devour her once more. My kisses made their way to their favorite place.

  Her pussy was just as drowsy as she was: under half-open eyes she watched me kiss and suck her outer lips. I thrust my tongue into her slit, rubbed her clit with my finger, and then switched, pumping her pussy while I licked her clit. In and out and around and around I went.

  She opened her legs further, thrust her pussy into my face, her soft landing strip rubbing against my forehead. I, however, was locked in motion already, deep in her sweet-tasting pussy, licking and sucking every part of it, always returning to the finger thrusting and clit licking that had her twisting in pleasure.

  On and on, I thrust and licked and sucked, my pace building gradually, irresistibly. Her coos intensified into moans, moans which became howls, which grew to one shriek as she came, hard; her whole body tensed, then, finally flopped back.

  I let her lay there for a bit, allowing her recover and open her eyes before I told her: “This is where you’re living now, you know.”

  A lackadaisical smile slid onto Kristin’s glowing face. “Oh yeah?”

  Nodding, I took her hand.

  “Yeah.”

  “So, I have no choice then?”

  I tapped the tip of her nose.

  “Exactly.”

  She giggled.

  “What about my cats?”

  “I thought you didn’t like them anyway.”

  “Yes, but still.”

  “They can make friends with Nala. The girl needs a new outlet for ignoring me, after all.”

  We laughed, then Kristin continued “And all my stuff?”

  Leaning in to kiss her, I whispered in her ear “Kristin, have you seen this place? I may have an extra room or two.”

  And then I helped her up and we stood there, me looking at her and her looking at me. This time she was the one who kissed me and, after taking my hand, led me down the hallway, to the empty room with the big window. She opened it, sat down and patted the spot beside her.

  When I sat down, smiling, she declared, “Well, I guess that settles it.”

  Epilogue

  Who would have thought to celebrate our one-year anniversary that we’d have ended up here, of all places?

  As I looked down the table, I smiled to myself at the improbable scene. On one end of the table was my family, Mom, Dad, Billy and Diana; even Veronica had graced us with her presence. It had taken my family some convincing, but half a year ago they had agreed to give Clark a chance, for me. Now, as they all threw their heads back with laughter at something he’d said, you’d swear they were old friends.

  On the other end of the table was a group that would have been equally unlikely a year ago: Clark’s family. His brother Eugene, and his sister Yvonne, sipping their drinks with slight smiles, his mother beaming. These days, every other word she said to me was “thank you.” For the change Clark had undergone, the caring and giving man he had become.

  I watched him now silently, reflecting on the hundreds of ways these past months have transformed him before my eyes. The former workaholic who now had to stop himself from taking too many breaks to kiss his girlfriend (I took most of the credit for this). The closed-off man who now shared his views with anyone who’d listen. The distant son who now visited his family every week and called his mother every few days. Yes, everything had ended up wonderfully, better than I could’ve even hoped for.

  “Are y’all ready to order?”

  Our waitress was here, the same one as last time, with even the same strawberry blonde pigtails. And this time, we all chorused, “Yes!”

  Once she had taken our orders, Clark raised his glass.

  “To our upcoming vacation,” he said.

  Everyone, including me, gaped at him blankly. But Clark’s smile was unwavering.

  Turning to me and taking my hand, he announced to the table: “This should come as no surprise, but this past year has been the best one of my life. And I owe it all to this incredible woman here. From day one she has been steadfastly supportive and patient, honest and caring. This woman whose hand I’m holding has done nothing less than single-handedly save my life. So, today I wanted to announce to everyone, the little I’m going to give back to her.”

  Clark turned to me, beaming.

  “Babe, we’re going back to Cancun.”

  There was a stunned silence, and then the whole table broke into excited whispers and murmurs of approval. Clark held up his hand.

  “I should probably mention that we leave tomorrow.”

  At this, both of our families whooped, raising their own glasses with smiling faces.

  I turned to Clark with a searching look.

  “Babe, what about the cats, work?”

  He tapped me on the tip of my nose, grinning.

  “It’s been taken care of.”

  And just like that, it was official. We were going back to Cancun and I was, without a doubt, the luckiest girl in the world.

  The food was as delicious as you’d expect; everyone tried bits of everyone else’s dishes, although the general consensus was that my ravioli was the best. Conversation flowed as easily as the wine; it was hard not to enjoy yourself and eat a little bit too much when Clark was footing the bill. By the time dessert had arrived however, Clark’s leg had started brushing mine in that way he did when he wanted something very particular.

  “Well,” I said, rising, “We should get back home and pack.”

  Everyone protested, but in the end, waved to us with big smiles. Clark drove us home and, once there, in our bedroom, I stopped in the door.

  Eyes on him, I took off my blouse and let it drop to the floor. I slipped off my skirt and let it drop around my ankles. Next was my bra and then, finally, my panties. Now, standing in the doorway stark naked, I raised an eyebrow.

  “We should pack.”

  With his eyes all over me, Clark strode up to me and took me in his arms.

  “We really should.”

  The next thing I knew, his lips were over mine, his hands fondling my breasts. One breast, then the other, then both; soon he had me pressed to the wall. Slipping my nipple in his mouth, he slipped his hand between my legs. He stopped his sucking to say, pleasure lighting up his eyes: “So wet.”

  Then his mouth was sucking my other nipple, his fingers pumping me, slowly, lazily, unhurried. As I moaned, he turned me around and continued pumping my pussy with his finger from behind.

  “What do you say?” he murmured into my neck, “We try something a bit friskier?”

  I pushed my ass out in response and, as he slid his fingers in and
out of my pussy, his other hand started kneading my ass. Long, leisurely massages that had my whole body trembling. Meanwhile, he had upped the pace of his fingering and had started running his other finger up and down my crack.

  I froze. Was he about to try what I thought he was about to try?

  Clark rubbing his finger against my asshole was my answer.

  “It’s okay,” he said, patting my head, “We’ll go slow.”

  More pumping in my pussy, deeper pressure of his finger into my ass. It felt weird, wrong and yet…the deeper in he went, the better it felt.

  Clark’s finger was vibrating inside my pussy now, and his other finger was in deep too, and it felt weird and wrong—but I liked it. Suddenly, Clark paused.

  “Want me to stop?”

  In response, I shoved my ass out further, warm and fuzzy with pleasure. Behind me, I heard a squirting sound and I turned to see Clark lubing up his dick. He caressed my wide-eyed face, whispering in my ear, “Slow and easy, that’s how we’ll go. Nice and slow for the tight little ass.”

  And now, his fingers were inside me again, in my pussy and in my ass, pumping faster and faster now. My moans were something of an unending howl at this point, they didn’t even sound like mine at all. It was the weirdest sensation, this painful pleasure. And yet, I was twisting around on the carpet with the glory of it. When Clark paused to slip out his fingers, I knew it was time.

  My body tensed, and for a moment I wasn’t sure what I wanted. And yet, when Clark said, “I don’t know, maybe we should just leave it,” my body reacted on its own. My ass shoved higher, and a desperate, “Please, Clark” gurgled out of my lips.

  Pressing his dick against my hole, he paused and said, “You sure?”

  I shoved my ass out further.

  “Okay, if you say so…” Clark said, pressing his dick inside me.

  Jesus fuck it was tight and it hurt and yet, if it didn’t feel really fucking good too.

  Together we thrust, forward and back, in deeper and deeper. And it was crazy, it was dirty. It didn’t make sense—but the deeper in he went, the more painful it was—and pleasurable. And by the time he was in all the way, it was my ass that was rocking back and forth on his rock-hard dick, needing it deeper, harder, howling for deliverance.