by Madison Faye
We’re silent as his fingers grip the zipper to my shorts, tugging it down one rivet at a time, peeling my shorts open until he can see the lacy black edge of my panties. I tremble, panting, aching for him. His hands leave my shorts like that—peeled open, and when his finger traces over the waist of my thong panties, I know without question that I’ve never been wetter. Not even close.
Marshall’s fingers tug at the waist, peeling the lace from my skin as my breath catches and my pulse thunders. One thick finger slips under lacy fabric, pushing lower, and lower—teasing me, making me squirm and writhe and clench my toes and ache for more as he slips it lower under my panties. I’ve shaved bare for him—well, for my mystery man, for tonight. And he growls when he feels the baby-smooth skin of my mons as his finger slips lower towards the slick, swollen lips of my pussy.
And then, millimeters from touching me there, Marshall stops. I can see his arm tighten as he clenches is muscles, and when he suddenly starts to pull his hand from my panties, I cringe as the whine of disappointment catches on my tongue. He pulls his hand away, and then he himself steps back from me, his eyes wild and fierce, his face haggard and drawn, his jaw tight.
“Go, Kendall.”
My face falls, just as my heart drops into my stomach.
“Marshall—”
“Go,” he growls, fire blazing in his eyes as he nods at the door. I let our eyes lock for one more second before I whirl, my face burning hot as fire with embarrassment as I yank his door open and go fleeing down the hall.
Chapter 5
Marshall
Both Amy and Kendall are gone in the morning.
Thank. Fucking. God.
I’ve been up half the night, pulse roaring, cock throbbing—fucking tweaking like I’m an addict without a fix. And nothing—and I do mean nothing—has come close to soothing the ache that came with sending her away and denying her. Here I am hours later, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, and still fucking hard even after stroking my cock four fucking times last night.
Four times. What am I, a fucking teenager again?
But four times, I thought of Kendall, and the taste of her lips, the feel of her body pressing to mine, and of every single thing the darkest part of me wants to do to her, until I came. Four times I groaned, seeing only her in my mind and remembering the way her tongue danced with mine and the way she moaned so eagerly as my thick cock pulsed in my fist, hot cum splattering down over my knuckles and my abs, and running in little rivulets down my cock and balls. And here it is morning, and I’m still hard.
Still wanting her. Still not having come her out of my damn system. I mean how the fuck am I going to last this summer with her in my house? The truth is, I’m not sure I am.
With the house empty, I start my day. I shower, shave, get some food in my stomach. I go for a long, arm-aching, pulse-thundering swim, until my shoulders scream for mercy. I hit the gym after that, and after that, I run five miles.
…But she’s still there, just lingering in the front of every single one of my thoughts.
Kendall, my weakness. My forbidden hunger. My undoing.
It’s later, when I’m relaxing in the steam room, that the thought hits me like a bat to the side of the head. I sit bolt upright, my mind whirling and every part of me wondering how the hell I haven’t gone down this trail of questions before. Because with all the distraction of realizing Kendall was Cherry Pie, and trying to swallow that whole pill, there’s a very basic, very important question that I’ve been ignoring.
How the fuck did Kendall Shaw get into the virginity auction on The Society’s private website to begin with?
I growl as I storm out of the steam room, grabbing my phone and calling Javier.
“Mr. Bane.”
“Mr. Luca.”
I hear Javier chuckle on the other end of the line. This formal “mister” shit is just a game we play, even if most Society members probably have a much more professional relationship with their club liaison. That’s what Javier is—my liaison. He comes with the membership. He’s almost like a personal assistant, meets hotel concierge, meets fixer, meets… shit, whatever else he needs to be. Girls, drugs, whatever.
Javier and I, though, we’re more on the same level. I don’t look at him like a manservant like a lot of members look at their liaisons. Maybe it’s because I didn’t come from money. But in any case, aside from scoring me rare bottles of vintage bourbon, I mostly use Javier for information. Which is exactly why I’m calling him today.
“Hey, Marshall, that case of the ’84 Eagle Rare special cask reserve? The seller caved and dropped the price by a couple grand. If you’re still interested, I’ll make the call.”
I arch a brow. “Yeah, do it. Just make sure you save a bottle for yourself when it comes in.”
Javier chuckles again. “Pretty sure I can make that happen.”
“Thanks. Not why I’m calling through.”
“Lay it on me.”
“The… auction the other night.”
Javier says nothing. This is why we get along. We can be informal and friendly, but it’s not going to get into him yucking it up like a frat boy about something like the auction. He knows I bid on it. He’s got access to my Society dealings, as per his job. He knows I won, too. But he’s not going to start making crass jokes or asking me how it went or any bullshit like that.
“I need to know how she was tapped—how she got to be on the site in the first place.”
Javier clears his throat.
“Well, in past auctions like that, it’s usually people knowing people. One of the dancers has a friend who wants to make a ton of cash, or a member’s girlfriend or mistress has a sister. That kind of thing.”
“I need to know specifically how she found her way to be involved.”
“You got it, Marshall. Give me today to look into it.”
“Thanks, Javier.”
* * *
I wake up dazed, blinking in the later afternoon sun as I realize I fell asleep in my office chair, still wrapped in a towel from the steam room. Fuck, if every night of having Kendall in this house is going to keep me from sleeping, I am most definitely not going to survive the summer.
I grumble my way back to my room, changing into jeans and a black t-shirt before I head downstairs. And it’s then that I hear the sound of giggling and splashing coming from the backyard.
The girls are back.
I’m tempted to disappear again, because apparently, I can’t even be near Kendall without wanting to do terrible, terrible, corrupting things to her. But before I know it, I’m already walking out the backdoor.
Amy’s doing some laps in the pool, but Kendall’s sunning herself in one of the lounge chairs, wearing this tiny little neon pink bikini.
Teasing me. Temping me. Playing with fucking fire.
My eyes sweep over her, and my cock instantly swells in my jeans as I drink in her in. The sun-drenched, smooth skin. The soft swell of her tits against the bikini top. The little hard buds of her nipples poking through. The low-slung cut of her bikini bottoms, hugging her pussy—what I now know is her very bare, very smooth pussy—so tightly.
Suddenly, she startles, twisting her head as she pulls her sunglasses off. And when her eyes land on me, standing there devouring her with my gaze, she blushes fiercely. Her teeth rake over her bottom lip, and I swear I see her nipples get even harder under that bikini.
“Hi…” she says quietly.
“Hi yourself,” I growl. I step towards her, my eyes locked on her, when there’s the splashing sound of Amy climbing out of the pool.
“Hey dad!”
I yank my head away from devouring Kendall and grin at my daughter.
“Hey, pumpkin. What’d you two get up today?”
“Eh, nothing much.” Amy grabs a towel and plops down in a lounge chair. “Some shopping, some driving around.”
“Yeah, nothing much,” Kendall adds, almost like an afterthought.
I glance back at her, an
d all the hunger and all the filthy thoughts about her I’ve been trying to push away all day come rushing back to the foreground.
“Oh, dad, we’re going to a party tonight.”
I scowl, turning back to Amy.
“Like hell you are.”
She rolls her eyes. “Dad, it’s not a party, party. It’s low key, and just some girl friends.”
“Just girl friends, huh?”
“Yes, actually.” Amy sighs, giving me that “stop being such a dad” look she’s perfected over the years.
“Don’t you trust us?”
I grin.
“I do, I just don’t trust boys your age.”
“Why’s that?”
I glance back at Kendall again as the words leave her mouth.
“Because I used to be one.”
She blushes, dropping her eyes again.
“Dad, we’ll be fine, okay?”
I nod, still looking at Kendall. “Aright, sure. Have fun.”
Kendall’s eyes raise back up, and for a second, there’s this blaze that sparks between us before I tear my eyes away, my pulse racing.
Fuck is this going to be a long summer.
* * *
Hours later, the house is empty again. I’m downstairs in the living room, switching between game highlights and some dumb movie while sipping on a bourbon, when I see headlights sweep up the driveway. The car hovers by the front door, engine running as a single figure gets out and shuts the door. The car does a three point turn before peeling out back down the driveway as I hear the front door open and close again.
I frown. “Girls?”
There’s the sound of footsteps, and suddenly, Kendall’s blonde locks and gorgeous blue eyes poke into the room.
“Hey,” she says quietly. “Just me.”
I frown. “Where’s Amy?”
Kendall steps into the room, and I groan inside. Shit, she’s wearing this pastel floral sundress that was made for her—hugging every single curve and showing off a ton of those long creamy legs. I shake my head, focusing on what she just said.
“Alone?”
“Mr—” she catches herself. “Marshall, you really do need to trust her. The party really is just girls, and no drinking.” She flashes a gorgeous smile at me. “We’re good, you know.”
“When you aren’t selling your fucking virginity online, you mean.”
She blushes, and I can already feel my pulse quickening, and my cock swelling. Fuck, I shouldn’t be alone with her. Not when I’ve been drinking. Not when she’s in that little sundress. I stand from the couch, but I sway for second, the bourbon I’ve been knocking back hitting me a little bit harder than I expected.
Kendall giggles, and instantly, she’s by my side, her hands on my arm.
“Whoa, easy there.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “I’m fine.”
“You’re drunk.”
I grin down into her eyes. “I’m not drunk, I’ve been drinking. Subtle difference.”
She rolls her eyes, still smiling at me.
“Well, keep drinking like this and what’s the point of keeping in such great shape, Mr. B?”
I wink. “So that I can drink.”
Kendall giggles, her whole face lightning up. I’m acutely aware of her hand still on me, and God help me, it’s shredding my resolve.
Goddamn, this isn’t good.
Kendall nods at my glass on the coffee table. “Can I get a glass?”
I arch a brow. “No.”
She puts on an exaggerated pout, and I just shake my head as I lean closer to her.
“I think I’ve done enough corrupting of you without feeding you booze.”
She eyes me, her gaze heavy and heated, and just as I see the sly grin start to creep at the corners of her mouth, suddenly, she makes her move. She darts past me, like she’s lunging for my drink. I grunt, my arm catching her fast around the middle and yanking her back as she shrieks with laughter. She slams back into me, and suddenly, my footing goes to shit. I twist, the room spins, and the both of us go tumbling onto the couch, me on my back with the gorgeous little tease landing right on top of me.
Fuck.
The laughter stops. The room gets hot as fuck in a second. The air gets thicker. And suddenly, I realize I’ve got Kendall Shaw with her legs spread around my hips and her sundress riding high on her thighs, lying on top of me, leaning over me, her lips inches from mine.
“Marshall…” she whispers.
“Kendall.” I shake my head, my brain telling me to stop but every other cell in my body roaring to take her, and have her, and taste her.
Her eyes are hooded, locked onto mine as she leans closer, her breath warm against my lips as the low light glistens off of hers.
“Goddamnit, Kendall,” I growl, my body tightening, fighting with my brain. And my cock swelling rock hard against her panty-covered mound.
“It’s not like we haven’t already,” she whispers.
I groan. “And that was an overstep on my part. A huge fucking overstep.”
“Like this?”
And suddenly, her mouth crushes to mine, and I’m lost. She moans sweetly into my lips, kissing me slowly and furtively, and then bolder as her tongue swipes against my lips. I growl, opening my mouth, my tongue swirling with hers as we grind against each other. Until finally, I pull back, my eyes blazing into hers.
“Fucking hell, Kendall. We can’t—”
“I want you to,” she pants feverishly. “I really, really want you, Mr. B.”
I groan, my hands sliding up her creamy thighs, shoving that sundress high as my cock pulses, dripping precum into my boxers.
“You know you don’t fucking owe me, right? That fucking auction? I mean Jesus, Kendall, if you need it, you know you can keep the fucking money. I’m not going to come collecting on your damn virginity just because I paid for—”
“I’d give it to you for free.”
The room goes still again, both of us blinking in shock. Me at her words, her at actually having said them. She blushes fiercely, chewing at her lip, and goddamn, the beast in me roars.
My hands shove up her thighs, grabbing her ass tight as she squeals, and before either of us can say another word, or before I can try and lie to myself again that I don’t want this with every part of me, we come crashing together. Our mouths crush against each other’s hard enough to bruise, her sweet moans teasing through my ears and making my balls twitch with need as I devour her lips.
This is wrong, but I can’t stop. I won’t stop. Not when she’s in my arms, my hands on her tight little body. Not when she’s grinding her panty-covered pussy against my throbbing cock and moaning like that.
“Marshall—”
“You need to get away from me,” I groan into her lips.
“Why,” she pants, sucking at my bottom lip in a forward, ferocious way that has my cock bulging against my jeans and my blood boiling in my veins.
“Because,” I hiss, crushing my lips to hers. “Because if you keep teasing me, I’m not going to fucking stop.”
Kendall moans, pulling away from my lips and kissing her way down my jaw until her soft little lips find my ear, her moan sending lighting through my core.
“Then don’t stop,” she moans softly, right into my ear.
…It’s like pulling the trigger on a shotgun. Like pushing the button that launches the fucking nuke.
She gasps as I come alive, grabbing her possessively and flipping us both over. I pin her to the couch, my mouth searing to hers before it drops down, kissing and biting and sucking my way down her neck to her collarbone. Kendall gasps sharply, writhing against me, her lithe little body arching into me wantonly. I yank at the straps of her dress, tugging them out of the way as I kiss my way over her collarbone and shoulders, My hands slide down, grabbing her ass through the dress and yanking her hips against mine as she claws at my back.
I move lower, my lips trailing over her breasts, finding a hard nipple right through th
e cotton and sucking it hard. She whimpers eagerly, her nipple hardening as my tongue wets the dress and teases her right through it. I move lower, and when my hands push her dress up high, I know there’s no going back.
She’s wearing little white cotton panties, with just a little bit of lace around the edges. Not even anything overtly sexy—not see through, or lacy, or a thong. Just plain white, lace-edged panties. And knowing that those are all that stands between me and her little pussy has my blood turning to fire in my veins.
I slide between her thighs, kissing my way up one smooth, muscled, creamy thigh. She cries out, bucking her hips against me, and as I near her panties, my eyes slide over her mound, and I groan.
She’s wet. Actually “wet” doesn’t even cover it. Kendall is soaked, a big damp spot growing in her panties, and I swear I can smell the candy-sweet scent of her little cunt even from here. My fingers slide into the waist of them, but before I can even get them down, eagerness gets the better of me, and my mouth finds her little pussy right through her panties.
Kendall goes wild.
My tongue drags over her lips through the soaked cotton, and I growl like a beast as I taste her for very first time. She’s so sweet, and so damn innocent tasting, and my cock swells as I tongue her through her panties. My fingers tug at the hem, sliding them down lower and lower, and I pull away to watch as I open my present. Her panties peel lower over her hips and her bare, shaved mound, until finally, they peel wetly away from her pussy lips.
And finally, I’m seeing all of her for the very first time.
She’s perfect.
Soft, delicate little pink lips, puffy and swollen with arousal. And so fucking wet. She’s so wet you’d have thought she’d just been fucked—her arousal dripping down her lips like dewdrops, running in little rivulets over her pussy and down further over her tight little asshole. I tug her panties down her legs and pull them off, dropping them to the floor. I lean in, my tongue swipes at her pussy, and I know I’m forever lost for her.