by Kira Bloom
“No, he didn’t!” She arcs her back and squirms while I slip her panties down her thighs, but she doesn’t ask me to stop. She’s back to nibbling on her bottom lip and puffing out short breaths from her nose. “I’ve never done any of that.”
Getting off the couch, I hover over her. “Then what the fuck did you do?” Keeping my hands on the panties around her thighs, I kiss the tip of her nose. “Dry hump? Scissor with no clothes on? Enlighten me, sweet, I’m curious what one does in the dark when good orgasms aren’t being exchanged.”
She jerks her head back. “You have a filthy mouth.”
“You’ve already said that.” I pull her panties down a few inches further, to her knees, and her legs snap together. “I’ve always been a fan of showing, not telling, though. Open your knees. Let me show you how deep that filth runs.”
Her green eyes challenge mine for a brief pause, but then she parts her knees slightly. I smirk. Kneeling in front of her, I ease the white cotton over her calves and past her slim ankles, ridding her of her shoes along the way. There’s no use denying how thrilled I am that she truly is a virgin in every way, that I’ll be her first at everything.
My satisfaction must be obvious in my expression because she snaps, “You look like the cat that ate the canary.”
“No.” I drag her ass to the edge of the couch and spread her legs far apart so I can see her. “The highest bidder that ate the virgin pussy.”
“Oh god, you’re … oh god. What are you doing?” Wide-eyed, she presses her palm to my forehead when I move my face closer to her cunt. She shakes her head and gulps a few times. “What are you doing, Jackson?”
“Relax,” I order, pulling her hand in mine and kissing the heel of her palm. It’s slick with perspiration. If I have my way, the rest of her body will be the same way shortly. I want her wet from sweat—sweat and desire and tears of pleasure. Stroking her swollen clit with my other hand, I give her the most reassuring look I’m able to manage, but I doubt she sees it because her eyes are rolling back in her head. “Relax and let me teach you.”
She does something that resembles a nod, so I drop her hand. She moves it to her flat stomach, fisting her white dress. Grinning, I shove her dress higher until I’ve got a full-view of her. To my surprise, my little virgin is shaved bare. Bare and pink and so inviting that the blood rushes to my cock. Getting through the night without experiencing her sweet cunt pulsating around my dick is going to be torture.
Exhaling a strained breath, I part her pussy lips with two fingers. “Good,” I murmur. “You’re beautiful, Flick. And so very wet for me already.”
“I—Oh, god.” She gazes down at me in amazement as I knead my thumb and middle finger back and forth over her clit. “That feels… It feels—”
It feels like she’s about to come, but I’m not ready for that. Not for a while. I lower my mouth between her thighs and trail my tongue up her slit—over and over again until she gasps for air and claws at her dress so forcefully it might rip in half. I’m convinced she’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever tasted. Her cunt even smells like vanilla and innocence. I catch her clit between my teeth, sucking her slowly. She curves her body toward mine, asking for more with her moans and the way she lifts her dress higher around her waist.
“My greedy virgin,” I growl and circle my tongue around her slit. “I already know I won’t be able to get enough of you.”
“Thirty days,” she says, then cries out when I work a finger into her pussy and delve into her with shallow thrusts. She’s tight. Perfect and dripping around my knuckle. “The agreement was for thirty days, remember?”
Deciding not to acknowledge her reminder, I risk adding a second finger. At the sensation of a new pressure, she bolts upright, dark brown hair falling around her face as she contracts around my fingers.
“Ohhh!”
“Am I hurting you?” She shakes her head, so I keep going. “Good then lay the fuck back. It’s okay to come, Flick. I want you to. I want to taste every inch of you starting right—” Breathing against her pussy, I ignore my cock straining in my pants to let me know it wants to taste every inch of her too. “—here.”
I lick a path back down her slit, trading my fingers for my tongue. My hand is wet—so fucking wet—but I grasp her thighs and dive in deeper while she pants and soaks my tongue with her juices. She’s close. I can taste it on her cunt and feel it in her quaking legs.
Leaning away from her, I grin at her expression, then bend my head to tug her soft fold between my teeth.
“Jackson,” she whispers, threading her hand through my hair.
I cock my head to the side to get out of her grip and kiss the backs of her fingers before she jerks them to her mouth. “You want to come for me, sweet girl?”
“No,” she moans but even then, she’s raising her hips to my mouth, silently insisting I take her where she needs to go.
She’s so beautiful. So ripe and delicious. So mine.
“You filthy fucking liar,” I laugh and sweep my knuckles over her soaked entrance. Making eye contact with me just as I lick her off my fingers, she turns her head to hide her flush. “Tell me you want to come, Flick. Tell me. And I want you to look at me while you’re doing it.”
She doesn’t at first, so I stop touching her. No fingers. No tongue. I won’t give her a thing until she can look me in the eye. “Please,” she whispers through her teeth. When I raise my brows, green eyes settle on mine. She wriggles her hips and repeats, “Please … Jackson.”
My name falling from her lips is the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard, so I drive my tongue into her snug hole without taunting her anymore. She scratches at my shoulder with one hand and uses the other to bite down on her knuckles, but it doesn’t stop her from singing my name. Her cries grow louder and louder the closer she gets to coming undone. I suck and lick until she can’t take anymore and she’s grinding my tongue.
“I’ve never—” She moves her hips faster and I know she’s about to explode. “I don’t know if—” A low hum of pleasure erupts from the back of her throat and she throws her head back as it builds into a scream. Her thighs quake around the sides of my head. “Oh, god, what are you doing to me?”
Giving you your first real orgasm, Little Flick.
Since I’ve got a mouthful of pussy, though, and no intention of giving it up, I simply smirk and tongue her faster as she comes. She scratches at me. Screams and creams. And when she’s given me everything, she squeezes her eyes tightly while the tremors shock through her.
Temporarily satisfied, I pull away from her body. I sit on the edge of the coffee table and watch as she comes down from her high, panting harshly because she’s out of air. After the waves pass, she parts her long lashes to glance up at me with those big, innocent eyes.
“What … now?” she gasps.
This girl—this sweet girl with her exquisite body and tight virgin pussy—is going to be my ruin. I can already tell. Turning my body so she can’t see what she’s done to my dick, I reach for the phone to call room service. “Now I feed you. And then—then I feed myself again.”
5
Felicity
I’ve gotten off before. With my own finger and the tiny clit vibrator Wendy gave me as a gag gift a few Christmases ago. The sensation of Jackson’s mouth devouring me, though, had pushed me over the edge. And I haven’t quite finished pulling myself back up.
Never before have I let go like I did with him. In the privacy of my bedroom and beneath the showerhead, my orgasms have always been tame, accompanied by tiny gasps of pleasure. Coming for Jackson was … different. With him, I had screamed until my throat was raw. I had pulsed against him and grasped any part of his body my fingers could find just to draw him close to me so he wouldn’t stop.
After my climax, he had called room service, his sensually low voice so professional it was almost as if the encounter never happened for him. But then he’d looked at me and cast a wicked grin. “Yes, dessert as well,” he’d said, licking
the pad of his thumb—the same digit that teased my body. “I’m in the mood for something sweet.”
His expression and those words were all it took for my body to revolt against my head.
I want more from him. Soon.
Another tremor shakes through me, but I curl my bare toes as he reaches into the dessert dish on the coffee table to offer me a plump raspberry drizzled in chocolate sauce. I simply stare at him, so he pushes it past my lips. My heartbeat accelerates, thumping like a chaotic drum, because my taste still lingers. Mixed with the flavor of his salty skin, the chocolate, and the fruit, it’s intoxicatingly erotic.
“You have to eat, sweet girl. You need your energy,” he drawls. From his sly expression—his half-closed eyes and shit-eating grin—it’s obvious he knows just how much this is affecting me. Being this close to him for the entire night has affected me.
An hour ago, I’d gathered the nerve to walk inside the penthouse only to have my world shattered. My mysterious bidder was none other than the man who possessed me to accept this arrangement in the first place. He had bid a small fortune just to be my first.
I’m not sure whether to feel honored or conned.
I swallow the berry and wash it down with a sip of champagne, closing my eyes because the expensive bubbles go straight to my head. “You offered me ten times more than I owe you,” I say huskily. His fingers touch my lips again. This time, he’s not offering me a berry, only his skin. He circles his fingertip around the tip of my tongue, his breath missing a beat at my moan, then he cradles the side of my face. “Why would you do that?”
“Why would you sacrifice yourself to save your silly father’s debt?” he counters.
“Don’t call my father silly. You wouldn’t like it if I insulted your dad.”
His grunt tears through the air, and I part my eyes just enough to observe the tight twist of his full lips. “You can say whatever you’d like about my father, and I wouldn’t care.” He pours me another glass of champagne. “But I do care about getting an answer to my question, sweet. Why sacrifice yourself?”
“You want the truth?” I ask over the rim of my champagne flute. He nods briefly, so I continue, “My roommate posted that listing without my knowledge. I didn’t realize what she did until the next day when a rep from V-Bay called.”
There’s probably not much that surprises a man like Jackson Cade—I have a feeling he’s seen and heard it all—but he leans back on the couch and strokes his chin at my revelation. “And you left it on there?”
“I wasn’t going to. But then I started to think about all the good things I could accomplish. I could help my father, you know. He and my mom risked everything for that restaurant.” A sharp pain pierces my ribcage when I mention my mom. Since Jackson took it upon himself to gather a dossier on my life, I’m sure he’s already aware my mother died of an aneurism my senior year of high school. While my father had secured the loan for York’s, the restaurant was Mom’s baby. When she died, the defeat I saw etched across Dad’s features became a permanent part of my life.
Jackson feathers his calloused fingers over my cheek, encouraging me to finish. “I guess the thought of Dad losing the place, of everyone who works for us not having a job, got to me more than the idea of giving up my virginity. Plus, I’m in over my head with student loans. I know you don’t understand because—”
He stops me before I can point out how outrageously rich he is. “Don’t tell me what I understand, Little Flick.” His sexy voice is dangerous, and I flinch at the coldness behind his bronze features. “I lost my mother when I was young, too. Believe it or not, I admire you. Not many people would do something so selfless to help those they’re not obligated to save.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” His fingers work their way from my cheek to my hair, twisting gently around the long dark strands. My stomach becomes a mess of butterflies and confusion. “It was my obligation.”
He brings our foreheads together. “You really are something, Felicity.” His lips brush mine with every word, spreading a tingle through my face and body. It’s terrifying—being touched by him. Because I like it. I like the static in his rough touch and the sweet minty scent of his breath. “My sweet, responsible Little Flick.”
“Do you do that to irritate me?” I ask breathlessly, but I like that too. When he calls me by that nickname. Whenever he speaks, period. His brow shoots up. “Call me Little Flick?”
“You are little, though.” Using my hair, he draws my head back slightly and trails a hot path down my neck. “So sweet.” He sucks on the base of my throat. “So perfect.” He kisses the tops of my breasts, first the left and then the right, and I sigh like a fool. “So fucking virginal.”
It’s not supposed to feel this good. It shouldn’t even sound good. But with his mouth on my body, and his fingers firmly planted in my hair, I’m on fire for him. Blood pounds so fiercely in my ears and my sex that it takes me a moment to realize he’s pressing a folded sheet of paper into the palm of my hand.
He scrapes his teeth over my left nipple through my dress and my grip tightens around the paper. “What’s this?”
“You went to your physician. I went to mine. That’s a clean bill of health, sweet.” He pulls my head back a little more and focuses his free hand on my other nipple, rolling the sensitive flesh between his fingers. “I want to fuck you bare.”
“Bare?” I repeat, and he growls.
“Fuck, it’s easy to forget how pure you are when your body seems to be made for mine.” As if to demonstrate, he releases my nipple and finally slips his hand into the top of my dress to caress my skin. “Bare means no condom. Just you and me—fucking like animals. I can’t seem to help myself around you and want to feel every inch of your body.”
My fingers slacken around the paper from his doctor, and my words sound slurred when I retort, “I thought you said you weren’t going to … you know.”
Chuckling, he jerks down my dress, bra and all, around my waist. I’ve always been proud of my body, but the desire in his eyes fizzles my brain. He exhales a breath of approval, then lowers his dark head to drag my nipple between his teeth. “I said I can’t seem to help myself around you,” he says, somehow sounding composed and in control despite the mouthful of nipple. I, on the other hand, am a mess.
I’m on the edge of my seat, biting my tongue, hoping my pussy will cooperate and not drench his couch. Everything about this man works me up. He smirks and I get wet. Crooks his finger at me and my center goes crazy with curiosity. And when he touches me there, I ignite.
He gives my nipple another swirl of his tongue, sits upright, then circles the back of his fingers over the pebbled flesh. I wince, though I’m not sure if it’s from pain or pleasure because right now—right now I feel both. “I’m also a fucking beast when it comes to keeping my word.” He winks at me and stands up. “And true to my word, Little Flick, I’m not done with you yet. Come with me.”
Too stunned to follow him when he starts toward the closed door on the far side of the room, I remain on the couch with my legs tightly locked. He gets halfway to his destination, looks over his shoulder to see I’m where he left me, and releases an impatient breath. My heart pounds in my throat as he takes three long strides in my direction. Before I can protest, I’m over one of his shoulders with the flared skirt of my dress around my hips and my bare ass close to his face.
He turns his face and kisses my ass cheek. “Mr. Cade!” I shriek, and he laughs darkly.
“Formalities, sweet? I don’t remember there being any of those when my tongue was deep in your cunt.” Toting me around like a caveman in a business suit, he sweeps through the bedroom door. Though my hair falls over my face, I see the room is big—big and blindingly white, decorated with contemporary furnishings. The bed is a work of art, a behemoth that’s much larger than any king-size I’ve ever seen. My heart skips a beat as he moves closer to it.
He deposits me right in the center and stares down at me, his greenish-bl
ue eyes darkening when I squeeze my knees together. “Do I need to lick your pussy again to get you to call me by name?” I shake my head because I’m not sure I can speak clearly. “I can’t hear shakes and nods, Little Flick.”
“No,” I gasp out, my thighs already quaking as he crawls on the bed to wedge his muscular body between them. While I’m just a fabric tug away from being fully exposed, he’s still dressed in black dress pants and a white shirt unbuttoned at the top. I sit up slightly on my elbows and move my head. “No, Mr. Cade,” I say, and a feral grin twists the edges of his lips.
Oh, god, what the hell is wrong with me? Here he is baiting me, and my stupid body delivers me to him on a silver platter because I can’t resist defying him.
He hooks strong fingers behind my thighs and jerks me to him. From this angle, I can feel the outline of his erection pressed against me. I start to scoot away from him, but he grips my thighs harder. “Do you feel that? I’m rock hard for you. I meant what I said. I give you a week and you’ll be on your knees, begging me to take you bare, but for now…”
“For now what?”
He lets go of my thighs and slides my dress and bra over my head, leaving me naked beneath his hungry stare. “For now I’ll make you scream another way.”
Granting me a cocky, half-grin, he loosens the buttons of his shirt, then shrugs out of it. I have to bite the inside of my cheek not to verbally acknowledge the beauty of his body. This man, the man I want to be my enemy, is all muscle—from his traps to his toned abs—and smooth golden skin. He’s make-your-fucking-mouth-go-dry delicious, and my clit pulses for him before he moves another inch.
My voice is scratchy when I murmur, “You’re going to touch me again?” To my horror, it’s more of a plea. Because, god help me, I want him to touch me.
He taps my hip then nods to the pillows at the top of the bed. “Turn onto your stomach, sweet.”
Refusing to drop my stare from his, I turn over slowly and crawl my way toward the pillows, my knees going weak because he gives my ass a gentle tap as he follows behind me. The muscles in my neck tense as I stare over my shoulder, so he pokes fun at me by twisting his own head in an uncomfortable angle.
