by Piper Trace
It made him smile. They did have a lot in common. “Then I’ll help you find a good choice,” he said. “With very little effort on your part. But you have to promise you’ll actually give him a shot.”
She starts school. It was too late to apply but Bishop was able to get her in. I THINK I ALREADY SAID THIS. After a week of school, he asks her if she’s seeing any guys she might be interested in dating. She said she doesn’t want to date any guys but he has a serious talk with her about what he wants for her and that it’s important to him that she dates somebody an has friends and has a normal life intakes the car out or she fears he may need to leave the house.
Trying to make him jealous, she says yes in her chemistry lecture. She says he asked her out but she said no. Bishop asks his name and when she tells him he nods.
I know Bryce. He’s been in two of my classes.
She untangled herself completely from his arms and hoisted her bag up again.
“Fine,” she replied. “But in the meantime, as it turns out, it seems I can’t get off by touching myself unless you’re watching. So, if you don’t want me looking for the wrong kind of fun with Professor Warner, maybe you could at least come down the hall at night and watch? I’m so horny lately, god knows what I might do if I don’t find an outlet soon.”
She grinned as if she knew exactly how close she was pushing him to the fucking edge, and trotted back up the stairs, leaving him close to ruin in her wake.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Penelope
That evening, Penelope washed up for the night and returned to her room to find a small, glossy black gift bag on her bed. She looked around but the house was quiet. There was no note, but when she saw the vibrator inside, it confirmed who the gift was from.
So Bishop had no intention of coming to watch her take care of her own needs. She knew that, of course, but she was still disappointed to see the proof. On the other hand, the toy she now possessed was magic, so it wasn’t a bad consolation prize.
She fingered the small, pink device, the same kind she’d used in the lab in front of him. All the memories of that incident flooded back into her head.
Her stomach fluttered as she recalled the wave of thrill and desire that whipped through her when he’d bent down unexpectedly and kissed her. Then, when Bishop stood in front of the window, his cock in his hand, staring at her while he got himself off. Damn. His powerful thighs quivered and his eye-popping abs clenched as he’d climaxed under his own grip, his other hand pressed hard against the glass.
The observation room had been a peep-show booth and Penelope had been the naked girl, performing for the gentleman’s pleasure.
Fuck, I want to come in there. Those had been Bishop’s last words to her, his eyes half-crazed, his semi-hard cock arching thickly in front of him, still glistening and sticky with his cum.
What would he have done to her if he’d come in?
She crawled onto her bed and rolled to her back. Lifting her hips, she hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties and removed them. Her eyes were unfocused, the X-rated film already playing in her head, and it was dirty and out of control. Her guardian, against his better judgment, but too mad with his need for her to care, barging into the observation room and positioning himself between her legs, held wide for him by the table’s stirrups.
He’d clamp his large hands around her thighs, forcing her ass to stay at the edge of the table. She’d be spread wide, giving him such open and easy access to her entrance, that he wouldn’t even need to use his hand to guide himself into her. He’d simply have lined up the broad head of his cock to her tight, unviolated channel and shoved his way inside, burying himself in her innocent pussy and claiming her virginity as his.
God, she could imagine his face as he thrust into her. Thunderous at first, his jaw clenched and his eyes wild as he fucked her roughly with the frenzy of a man denied too long. Then, as she called his name, writhing in his grip, intoxicated at the feel of him inside her, his face would soften, and he’d slow his rhythm, realizing he’d finally taken his “little one.”
Then, Bishop would worship her, memorize her, and she’d drink in how it felt to be filled by her guardian’s cock. He would have his hands everywhere on her naked body, pinching her nipples and suckling and nipping at her breasts. Bishop knew how to get her off better than she did, and he’d move against her in just the right way until she was screaming in ecstasy, coming with him inside her.
The tight, pulsing muscles of her channel would send him over the edge. Bishop would bury himself deep and empty in her while she drank in the rapture on his face.
Penelope played this imagined encounter in a loop in her head, getting herself off twice before she shut down the enchanted device and lay panting, trying to catch her breath. With Bishop’s gift, her problem of not being able to satisfy her needs was certainly solved. Though now that she had the vibrator, she’d lost her best excuse to try to seduce him.
That’s okay, she told herself, along with a stern reminder that she’d promised to be good. On the other hand, how important were the rules when it had been Bishop, the last time, who’d broken them? And now, he’d given her a distinctly adult and personal gift. Her guardian wasn’t setting a very good example, was he?
She rolled to her belly and grabbed her phone to text him. Thanks for the gift.
To her surprise, he responded. You like it?
Only the greatest invention in the history of science.
This time, no message came back. She waited, her thumbs hovering over the phone. God, she hated being ignored. Finally, annoyed, she typed out a new text, purposely crossing the line.
He’d been the one who left a vibrator in her bed, after all.
Couldn’t you hear me getting off over and over down the hall?
His response came quickly. You’re using it now?
Just switched it off.
You made yourself come?
Yes. She thought for a second and then added to the text. Actually, you gave me the toy, so maybe you made me come.
There was a delay, but before long, her phone pinged.
What were you thinking about?
The corners of her mouth lifted. You. It was a good fantasy. I’m not even sure I’m a virgin anymore.
No answer. She wondered if their exchange was over, but then another ping.
How many times did you get off already?
Already. She considered that word. There was a whisper of promise in its connotation, as if it anticipated more to come.
Twice, she typed back.
Are you still horny, little one?
She wriggled in the covers, the thrill of his question causing every nerve in her body to hum.
Yeeesss, she replied.
Pen…fuck.
She grinned. What? Then she added a smiley face wearing a halo. Her grin disappeared when she read his next message.
You are too innocent to be such a naughty girl.
Apparently, her guardian was bolder over text. She liked this side of him. She thought a minute and bit her lip. Did she dare? If he was bolder, then she could be too. I don’t want to be innocent anymore. I want to be your little slut.
He didn’t respond, so she ramped it up. Why don’t you slip into my room at night and take what you want? I’m right down the hall. I’m already wet for you.
Pen, you know how I feel about that. Then another message followed quickly behind that one. Why are you so determined to get me to abandon my principles?
Because your principles are wrong.
No answer. The clock ticked. She nearly fell asleep. Finally, the ding jerked her from a twilight state of near slumber.
Sweet dreams, my little Pen.
It nearly made her cry. It makes me sad when you’re sweet to me.
I’m sorry. I don’t ever want to make you sad, honey. Then another one. I’m having trouble sleeping.
Me too, she lied, biting bit her lip again. Have you masturbated? Her stomach swoo
ped with giddiness as she awaited his response.
Not yet, came his groan-inducing response. But first, I want to make sure you’re taken care of.
She raised her eyebrows, but before she could respond, he sent another. Spread your legs and touch yourself for me. Make yourself come one more time.
She sat up, her heart suddenly beating a staccato rhythm in her chest. She quickly arranged her pillows and turned around to lean back on them, propping her phone beside her. Okay, she typed with trembling fingers.
Dip your finger down there first, between your lips. Are you still wet?
Yes. Swollen and sensitive.
That’s good, honey. Turn on the vibrator and start moving it in slow circles around your clit.
It feels good.
Tell me.
It makes my thighs want to clench together. So good. So, so good.
Good girl.
In a moment of hedonism, she snapped a picture of herself using the toy and sent it to him. She smiled and closed her eyes. With the unrelenting stimulation of the device edging her closer and closer to orgasm, she lost herself for a moment as she imagined Bishop easing down his boxers under his covers and fisting his hard cock as he stared at the picture she’d sent.
But when too much time had passed with no response, she shut off the toy. In the sudden silence, she heard the sound of something brush against her door. She slid off the bed and tiptoed to the door, placing her ear nearly on the wood, but heard nothing.
It didn’t matter, she was certain he was just outside battling with himself about coming in. She reached for the knob, but hesitated. He’d disappear back down the hall if she turned it.
“Please come in,” she whispered.
No response. Absolute silence, as if he’d frozen, which she knew he had.
She spread her hands on the door. “Bishop, it’s okay to come in. You don’t even have to touch me. You can just be near me.” She let her forehead rest on the cool surface of the wood. “Masturbate with me.”
She bit her lip. Strained her ears. Heard a long, shaky exhalation of breath.
Then she heard his soft footfalls heading back down to his room.
*****
Bishop
Bishop hadn’t quite made it back to his bedroom before he heard Penelope’s door open. He froze, not wanting to turn around. Go back to bed, his logical mind demanded. Don’t turn around. But it was no use. It was Penelope, and she was the most powerful magnet on earth.
Reluctantly, he turned.
Her bedroom was the last on that end the hall, with nothing but a linen closet between his room and hers. She stood in front of her doorway, wearing a long, shapeless tee-shirt. She stared at him, her hair in disarray.
Moonlight came through the window behind him, washing her visage pale and giving his weak eyes just enough illumination to see her. He couldn’t make out details at this distance, but he didn’t need to, because when she reached down and pulled her nightshirt over her head, revealing her gorgeous, naked body, he already knew all her details by heart.
Every dip and curve of his Penelope’s nude body was burned into his memory like a brand, declaring to whom he belonged.
The likelihood was slim that Ann would be wandering the house this time of night, but still, he couldn’t risk her finding Professor Sullivan’s daughter naked in a hallway with him. He jabbed a finger toward her door. Penelope shook her head.
Then she took two steps toward him, and without thought, Bishop was in front of her, pulling her back into her room. His temper boiled. Did she not realize how close to the edge he was?
Once he’d dragged her back in and pushed the door behind him, he turned on her, clamping both of his hands to her arms and shaking her. “You’ve got to stop this, Penelope. The ways I could hurt you, it’s not a goddamn game.”
Her eyes were wide, her mouth a startled O. She looked at his hands and he realized how hard he was squeezing. Shame made his gut cringe, he loosened his grip, but he didn’t let her go. They stared at each other, both breathing hard, anger, hurt and lust arcing between them.
Then Pen did the most incredible thing. Rather than try to twist out of his painful hold, she sank to her knees in front of him.
And instead of him using his grasp on her arms to prevent it, god help him, he moved his hands to her shoulders and helped push his young ward to her knees. He looked down at her, horrified about what he’d just done.
How could he justify it? What was his excuse? But all thoughts of explanations, excuses, propriety and shame disappeared when Pen looked up at him from her kneeling position, eyes large and trusting, and opened her mouth. She didn’t say a word, just waited.
Christ, how could she know that kind of behavior was his weakness? Exactly the kind of thing he had no hope of resisting. When the darkness in Bishop recognized her willing sexual acquiescence, it roared to life around him like an inky specter, demanding he accept her sacrifice and take what she offered.
There were no more thoughts, only mindless, lust-crazed action. His boxers—the only thing he had on—hung from his quavering thighs in the space of a heartbeat. He fisted a hand in the hair at the back of her head and held his steel-shafted dick in his other.
Later, when he thought back on the moment, with a mixture of bone-deep satisfaction and self-disgust, he’d recall how he hadn’t gently guided her where he wanted her, rather he’d actually jerked her head to his crotch and shoved her mouth onto his throbbing cock, like sucking him was her job, and she’d been neglecting it.
As best she could, she fellated him, adding her hands when she couldn’t take him as deeply as he wanted into her throat.
Again, later, more shame would swamp him when he recalled telling her—his tone a growl of ownership directed down at her bobbing, auburn head—that she’d learn to take him deep. She’d learn.
The shame he felt in recalling those words, however, wasn’t enough to keep him from ejaculating all over his stomach, every night, for more than a week, as he replayed it in his head, his pumping hand wrapped around his cock.
He wasn’t a gentleman. He didn’t talk to her nicely. She deserved a nice man who wouldn’t do to her what he did next.
Grunting, he’d twisted his fingers in her hair, moving her on his cock until his balls contracted and he exploded. In his ecstasy, he pulled her too close. Surge after surge of hot cum pulsed straight down his young ward’s throat.
He backed off before he was finished, some sane part of his brain breaking through enough to scream at him not to hurt her. To let her breathe. He jerked back, the last ropes of his seed landing on her lips, her chin, her bare tits. She gasped for air but held her mouth open, still. Even after what he did to her, she didn’t stop trying to give him what he wanted.
Fuck, had the devil sent this girl? How did she instinctually know the twisted things of his fantasies? Why was she willing to sacrifice herself, sexually, for him, when all he seemed to want was to defile her?
No. That was wrong. The devil hadn’t sent her. There was nothing about his precious Penelope that wasn’t an exquisite treasure. She was all that was good, and when she was orphaned and alone, she was given to him. Bishop, who was literally a product of evil.
That’s when he understood. His love for Penelope was his punishment for what he’d done to that girl all those years ago. Knowing there was a beautiful, smart woman—the personification of everything he wanted and needed—living right in his home, and he couldn’t have her.
Not only could he not have her, it was his responsibility to guide her to other men. Good guys who could give her the kind of normal, healthy love she was meant to have. He was meant to discourage her involvement with the wrong kind of man, just like her father would have done for her.
No matter how much he loved her, and no matter how much he wanted her, he had to stop giving in to temptation and fucking his ward’s pretty little mouth.
This was his hell, because he deserved it.
He yanked u
p his boxers and dropped to his knees with her, wrapping her in his arms. “This is the last time, little one. I promise I won’t hurt you again.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t hurt me.”
He scooped her up and took the few steps to her bed, placing her gently on top of the covers. He snatched up five tissues from a box on her nightstand before sinking down on the bed next to her.
Regret and sadness slowed his movements, and he took his time cleaning what he’d left on her.
“You didn’t hurt me,” she repeated. “I like when you lose control. It turns me on like nothing else.”
Lose control. Two such dangerous words.
“We’ll stick to the plan, little one.” He kept his voice soft. “You promised you’d try.”
“I know,” she whispered, putting her hand over his. “I just wish I didn’t have to, but you won’t let me choose you.”
He stood up, allowing his eyes one final lingering pass over her body before he leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Good night, precious girl.”
He didn’t intend to waste any time. His will was too weak around her.
He had to have her in another man’s arms sooner rather than later.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Penelope
TWO DAYS LATER, Penelope sat in her Chemistry class doodling instead of taking notes, when her phone vibrated in her lap. It was a text message from Bishop.
Is Bryce in class today?
She rolled her eyes and responded back in the affirmative.
Her cell lit up again. I’ve checked out his background and he’s the kind of guy you should be with. He’s very respectful. The kind of guy you deserve.
She shook her head, almost not able to believe that the man she was so crazy about, so willing to give herself to, was determined to hand her off to another man. A boy, really. She decided not to respond, but her phone signaled again.