Not His to Touch: a Forbidden Virgin, Guardian & Ward Dark Romance

by Piper Trace

  “What—?” Her question came out sounding more like an exhalation than a word.

  “Is this okay?” His voice was husky and thick.

  She seemed frozen in place, as if she was afraid to even answer, but nodded her head in a few quick jerks and whispered her one-word assent in a small, tight voice.

  “Good,” he answered simply, and slid his hand the few centimeters higher it took to brush his fingers against her sex. Not flesh, but satin. The velvety, pillowed lips of her pussy were covered in satin panties. She hissed in a breath at the contact.

  Though his curiosity had been satisfied, he wasn’t about to stop. He couldn’t now. He kneaded the pad of his first finger against the slick fabric until he could discern the firm nub of her clit, then he lightened his touch, teasing her with gentle, rhythmic swipes over the crotch of her panties.

  “Oh,” she breathed. “Okay. Sure.” She spread her legs further, bracing the arm closest to him on her seat by her hip while her other hand gripped the steering wheel. She twisted her lower body toward him to give him the best possible access, and dropped her head against the headrest. Closing her eyes, her lips parted.

  And god, he just wanted to put his cock in that feisty mouth of hers. Tangle a fist in her hair and make her swallow him.

  She made a gasping sound, like she’d forgotten to breathe. Her throat worked as she licked her lips and swallowed, and he nearly came in his pants at the sight, after what he’d just been imagining.

  Her elegant neck was so close, and she smelled like Penelope. His Penelope. He wanted to consume her. He had to get his mouth on her, so he leaned further until he could touch his lips to the sensitive skin under her ear. He kissed her there, then sucked her earlobe between his teeth.

  She made gentle, needy sounds and let go of the steering wheel to grip his wrist in her lap, pulling his hand harder against her. “Fuck, Bishop, I’m always so hot for you,” she whispered. “I might come just from this.”

  “You will come, my little Pen.” The words rumbled from his chest, his newly-discovered dominance taking over. Trailing his tongue down her neck, he sucked and nibbled her flesh. “Move against me, honey. Show me what you do when you think of me touching you.”

  Groaning, she placed both hands on top of his and pressed him against her pussy. She jerked her hips in quick little thrusts as she rode his hand, using his fingers to get off.

  “Just like that, Pen. Make yourself come.” He grazed his teeth on her collar-bone, nipping.

  Before long, her whole body shuddered, and incoherent noises spilled from her throat as she climaxed. She lifted her hips off the seat, her legs trembling, until, finally, she collapsed back against the leather.

  He smiled in the dim light. There was nothing in the world like watching Penelope come.

  Slowly, he pulled his hand away from her lap, but she grabbed his wrist, sliding her grip down until she tangled her fingers into his.

  She turned her head to look at him. “Bishop?” she breathed, as if that one word was a question. Her eyes glittered in the reflected lights of the dash.

  Her soft lips were so close.

  Had he ever really kissed her? Of course he had, but it hadn’t been enough. Nothing with Pen would ever be enough. He wanted her in the most agonizing, bottomless way, as if every taste only magnified his need.

  Closing the space between them, he kissed her properly, like a man would kiss a woman he wanted to take to bed. He swept his tongue against hers in a reminder of what he could do between her legs. She moaned and put a hand in his hair, sliding her fingertips against his scalp and bringing chills everywhere.

  As always, it wasn’t enough, and his kiss grew hungry. His control was slipping. He wanted to drag her on top of him, drop his seat back and make her ride his cock until he exploded in her.

  Fuck, that idea was hot. If she was so insistent that he be her first, he could make her do it herself. Lay back and let her climb on top of him and rub her juices on his shaft, sink onto his erection until she popped her own cherry. Make her bounce on his cock while she touched herself, and empty in her when she came so hard that her tight pussy clenched and released, milking the cum from his balls.

  He would never allow that to be Penelope’s first time, but damn the X-rated idea nearly broke him.

  He pulled away from her and opened his car door, practically leaping from his seat into the crisp air. He gripped the back of his neck and raised his face to the night sky, hoping to regain some control. After a few bracing lungfuls of air, he made his way around the car to open Penelope’s door.

  She swung those sexy, bare legs out and looked up at him, as if asking him what to do. To be fair, he was blocking her exit, with one arm on the car and the other on the top of the door frame.

  “Take off your panties.” His husky voice didn’t even sound like his own. He was acting on pure instinct and desire now, barely bothering to stay within his own self-imposed boundaries. “I want your underwear in my pocket during dinner.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “But…but, after what we…” She dropped her eyes and then looked back up at him shyly. “I’m a little wet.”

  “No one will know but us. With all the other diners around, I want to know you’re bare next to me, your pussy damp because I made you come. Now do what I asked. Put your underwear in my pocket, Penelope.”

  She blinked, but relented and shimmied out of the garment. Bishop used his leg to push her knees apart and moved in between her spread legs so she could tuck the damp satin into his pocket. She looked up at him and slid her hand from his hip to the obvious bulge in the front of his pants. Rubbing her palm up and down against him, her eyes asked for permission. Without waiting for it, she reached for his belt and began unbuckling it.

  “What are you doing?” He was standing outside a car, in public, but a quick look around revealed that Pen had parked in a shadowy corner of the lot, a good distance away from the lights that illuminated the entrance. They weren’t in sight of the street or restaurant, and since she’d turned off the inside light in her car, there was some privacy to their position.

  “You’re hard,” she answered, in response to his question, as if that was all the reasoning she needed.

  Fuck, how could this hot, sex-kitten of a woman be his ward? He groaned, his dick aching for what she offered.

  For one moment, he imagined what his life would be like with her as his lover. The fun they would have. The pleasure they would share. And how every night they’d retire to the library and read without speaking, sneaking glances and wishing the other would get naked.

  She freed his heavy erection and all his thoughts stopped. He looked down at her. She was in the perfect position for what he wanted.

  “Open your mouth,” he ordered.

  Obediently, she obeyed him and waited, her eyes raised to his like the sweet, eager girl she was. He took his rock-hard shaft in hand and fed it to her one inch at a time, just like in his fantasies. The sensation as her hot, wet mouth enveloped him nearly made his knees buckle.

  “Now suck me, Penelope.”

  She hollowed her cheeks on him, working her hands and tongue around the engorged head. She pulled him in deep, again and again, bobbing on his erection right there in the restaurant parking lot. He jerked his hips forward, wanting to push further into her throat in the way that turned him on so much.

  She took him out of her mouth. “I know what you want from me, Bishop, and I wish I could let you have it, but you’ll make my eyes water and mess up my makeup, and we still have to go to dinner.”

  She was right, but goddamn he wanted to feel her tight throat around his cock.

  “Make yourself come in my mouth instead.”

  “What are you saying?” His voice was like the gravel crunching under his shoes in the dirty lot.

  She took his hand and placed it on his erection, wet from her saliva. “Get yourself off on my tongue. Watch me swallow your cum.”

  As soon as he understood, h
e fisted his shaft and pumped. Standing in her open car door, he stroked his throbbing dick while she waited in front of him, mouth open and eyes intent, as if tasting his hot seed was the only thing she wanted in the world.

  Goddamn. His innocent little Penelope, sacrificing herself like that. It didn’t take him long. His abs seized as he braced himself in the doorframe and aimed the steaming, white ropes of his orgasm into her willing mouth.

  His balls contracted and released until she had swallowed it all, and then licked her lips before kissing the crown of his dick. “Happy birthday, Professor Cole.”

  “Christ, that was fucking hot.” Bishop’s voice rumbled, thick in his throat, the sound that of a well-satisfied man.

  He stepped back to fasten his clothing and give Penelope room to exit the car.

  She slipped her arm through his. “Ready?” she asked, a huge smile on her face.

  He returned the smile down at her. “Let’s go, honey.”

  Bishop usually kept a running list in his head to remind himself of the reasons he couldn’t be with Pen. That he didn’t deserve her topped all the others.

  *****

  They were seated in a cozy, circular booth, and Pen quickly scooted around to sit right next to him. Bishop hesitated, but then wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. She snuggled into him and he kissed the top of her head, lingering there to inhale her scent.

  He let himself pretend they were on a real date. Having Penelope next to him in that booth, tucked under the shelter of his arm, tripped every pleasure receptor in his brain. He was awash with bliss, as if he had mainlined happiness. She grabbed his other hand and pulled it into her lap, holding it like she was afraid to let it go.

  A waiter came and took their drink order. Bishop ordered a bottle of wine without thinking, and as the waiter left to retrieve the cabernet, the realization that Pen wasn’t old enough to drink alcohol slammed Bishop back to reality. He made her scoot over.

  “We have important things we need to talk about.”

  “Oh god,” she complained, like a teenager responding to her dad.

  The waiter returned with the wine and Bishop took it from him, saying he wanted to pour it himself. The waiter lingered to explain the specials of the night. Bishop poured himself a glass and left Penelope’s empty. She gawked at him.

  “You aren’t old enough,” he insisted, under his breath. “Order a soda if you’d like.”

  “But I’m old enough for you to come in my mouth?” Pen challenged, clear as a bell. Not a hint of discretion.

  Bishop nearly dropped the bottle.

  The waiter’s mouth hung open, cutting short his explanation of how the salmon would be prepared that evening. “I’ll, uh, give you a chance to look at the menu,” he stammered before scurrying away.

  “Penelope,” Bishop scolded. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You. This.” She waved her hand between her chest and his, indicating them both. “The back and forth, hot and cold. I’m so tired of it I could scream.” She reached out and grabbed his glass, downing half his wine while he glared at her.

  When she finished, she dabbed her mouth demurely with her napkin like a brat, and Bishop ground his teeth, but when she met his eyes, he noticed something new there. The beginnings of defeat.

  His gut twisted in panic. He didn’t want to lose her.

  “I don’t want to play anymore,” she said softly. “It hurts.”

  “Oh honey.” Bishop pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it, closing his eyes and reveling in the feel of his lips on her skin. “That’s what I want to talk to you about.” He kept hold of her hand. “First, how are things with Bryce?”

  She shrugged. “He’s a nice guy. We have some fun.”

  “Have you been seeing him much?” Bishop tried to keep his voice even.

  She shrugged again. “Sometimes. I mostly tell him I’m busy.”

  “But you like him?”

  She nodded in weak agreement, and then brightened. “The thing I like best about him is that he looks a little bit like you.”

  Bishop scowled.

  “And I write B+P and circle it in hearts in the margins of all my notebooks. It’s pretty convenient.”

  “Pen, this is serious.”

  “Okay, fine.” She took a sip of water. “He’s cool. Sure, I like him. Why?”

  The nervous-looking waiter returned and took their orders.

  After he left, Bishop turned to face Penelope. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand in a soothing fashion, mentally willing her to accept his plan.

  Or at least not storm out of the restaurant after overturning the table.

  “So, here’s what I’m thinking.” He made his voice gently, and she scooted slightly closer. It was for the best. This wasn’t a conversation anyone should overhear. “You’ve been clear with me that you’re ready to have sex, and I think this threshold between virgin and non-virgin is distracting you from focusing on the kind of things you should be focusing on.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Oh really? What sorts of things do you think I should be focusing on, Dad?”

  “Don’t call me that,” he said between clenched teeth. He poured more wine and took a long drink. “I think you’re focusing on what sounds hot and exciting to you right now. I’m not saying that’s bad, but I just think your first time should be special, with someone appropriate for you. Someone you could maybe even have a future with.”

  “And you think that’s Bryce.”

  “I think it could be Bryce, but I’m not sure you’ve really given him a chance. What if he’s a great lover?”

  Penelope looked doubtful.

  “Pen, you’re a gorgeous, sexy girl. You need to stop teasing older men and focus on someone more suitable. I’m just saying, if you’re so determined to start having sex, why not have sex with Bryce? In bed, you might find a whole new aspect to him that keeps you interested.”

  She shared another sip of his wine. “This is seriously what you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “There’d be no hot and cold with him,” Bishop offered. “That boy would come when you called. All you have to do is snap your fingers.” Though his voice didn’t betray him, Bishop was quickly losing his appetite over the subject. Still, he stayed the course, trying to be strong for her.

  Maybe if she slept with Bryce, she’d give him a real shot. And if she had Bryce to play with, then maybe she’d finally abandon her ill-fated interest in Bishop.

  He had to do anything he could to help steer her away from him and toward a good guy. He knew Bryce as a student, and he’d had him checked out. He was someone her father would have approved of for his daughter.

  The waiter delivered their salads, and when he left the table Penelope said, “Fine. I’ll consider having sex with Bryce. Happy?”

  “Yeah, so about that…” Bishop poured himself more wine and took a gulp. Table-flipping was a strong possibility after what he was about to say. “Fall break starts this week, and I’ve spoken with Bryce and made arrangements for you and him to fly to Jamaica and spend a few days on the beach as a surprise. So…surprise!” He raised his eyebrows, watching closely for her response.

  She froze, still as a statue. His stomach knotted, and then knotted again. Fuck, this had been a seriously bad idea.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Bishop

  PENELOPE STARED AT him, her face completely blank. A niggle of fear tightened Bishop’s throat.

  “Jamaica.”

  He nodded.

  “A few days?” Her high-pitched voice cracked on the last word.

  “And nights,” he answered, nodding again.

  She grabbed his wine and gulped it, then leveled a glare at him. “You can go to Jamaica and fuck Bryce on the beach, Professor Cole, because I will not be going.”

  “Pen…” God, he’d known this was a terrible idea, and it sounded even worse trying to explain it to her. “Listen, I—”

  “Bishop, you listen.
I know we have our issues.” She shook her head. “No,” she corrected, “you have your issues, but that doesn’t give you the right to pimp me out.”

  “I’m not—”

  She held up her hand, cutting him off. “Right for me, wrong for me, it doesn’t matter. You don’t get a say. I don’t care if you’re my guardian. I don’t care if you were my dad. Who I sleep with—unless it’s you—is none of your business.”

  He sighed and nodded his head solemnly. “I know.”

  She looked like she was going to say more, but he grabbed her hand and kissed it again.

  “I know, honey.”

  Squinting at him, she shook her head, a flabbergasted look on her face. “If you know, then why would you do shit like this?”

  He let go of her hand and rubbed his forehead. “To try to keep what little of you I can have.”

  She made a noise of frustration. “Seriously, what does that even mean?”

  “Penelope.” He looked into her warm eyes, hoping she could see the truth in what he was about to say. “We can’t even be in the same room together, honey. It’s…” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, trying to find the words. “We can’t stay away from each other, and I don’t see an end to that if things stay the way they are.”

  “Only because you refuse to be with me.”

  He nodded, acknowledging her clarification. “I don’t want to go over the reasons again.”

  “Do you still think I have a crush on you because of ‘daddy issues’?” She picked through her salad, apparently not having much of an appetite either.

  “That’s part of it, yes.”

  “Well, maybe you’re right.”

  He glanced up sharply, surprised at her comment.

  “I’ve thought about this. Maybe my initial attraction to you was due to some unrequited love issues I had with my dad, or maybe it was rebellion, or both. Of course, your off-the-charts hotness didn’t hurt.”