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

by Piper Trace

  Bishop didn’t answer, and instead gulped his wine.

  She shook her head. “Wow, you were right about that guy. He’s not even subtle. If he wasn’t so freaking good-looking, he’d probably have been fired by now.” She was staring toward Warner’s table. “Truth is, that class is really hard, and he’s hot. A night with him and an automatic boost in grade? There were probably ten girls in my class hoping to be that girl tonight.”

  Bishop glowered at her until she cut her eyes to him. “Oh, sorry,” she whispered, grinning sheepishly. “Not me. I’m with exactly the man I want to be with.”

  “Drink, if you want,” Bishop grumbled. “I don’t want you to see me as a hypocrite. Old enough for some things, but not for others.”

  She squeezed her hand on his arm and tipped her head toward him. “No more for me. I’m driving. Besides, I like your rules, Bishop. I like that you try to guide me and take care of me. I’ve never had that before.”

  He raised his eyebrows, giving her a dubious look, and she laughed that perfect bell-chorus sound.

  “I know I don’t act like it. You know I hate to be told what to do, but I also know it means you care about me, and that, I love.”

  He refocused on her, consciously shaking off the encounter with Professor Warner. He and Pen still had important things to talk about. Things that even an asshole like Warner couldn’t dampen his joy about.

  Penelope had wanted to make a bargain. She’d go on vacation next week with Bryce with an open heart, giving life without Bishop a real try. She’d even promised to have sex with the boy to show she was committed to exploring all her options.

  But in return, Bishop had to take her virginity.

  He gave her his full attention. “I don’t just care about you, Pen. I love you.”

  “You can’t say that enough, Bishop. I might need to hear it every minute for the rest of my life.”

  She dropped her gaze, her face pink, and her smile was fucking angelic. He would do anything for this woman. Give her anything.

  “I’ll do it.” His voice was gruff with emotion.

  She blinked, raising hopeful eyes to his. “You’ll fuck me?” she whispered, and his cock practically busted through the zipper of his pants.

  “I’ll make love to you, Pen.” He promised, his words all gravel and lust.

  “But you’ll fuck me too?”

  God, her mouth was dirty. He loved it. But what he loved most at that moment was the excited hope in Penelope’s liquid chocolate eyes.

  Hope, goddamned hope, that he would take her virginity and fuck her. He did not deserve this. Professor Sullivan should have given his daughter to a better man.

  But the die was cast. He couldn’t turn back now even if he wanted to. He had this one, temporary shot at happiness, and it would have to sustain Bishop for the rest of his days.

  “Will you do something for me, Penelope?”

  “Anything.”

  He dropped his eyes, feeling self-conscious for what he was about to ask. “Just for tonight, would you pretend we’re really together? That I’m not ten yours older than you—”

  “Nine.”

  He closed his eyes. “Okay, nine.” He couldn’t help smiling, but it felt sad. “And that your father didn’t entrust you to me as your guardian, and that I’m not a...” He dropped his chin, never liking to say it out loud.

  “Stop.” Her tone was flat.

  “A rapist.” He forced himself to say it anyway.

  She made a noise of disgust and fisted her hand around her wine glass.

  He reached out and pulled on her arm, encouraging her to scoot back closer to him. “Can we pretend we’re just two normal people in love before we do this tonight? I want one night with you without all this between us.”

  She slid against him and he put his arm around her. She turned her head up to him, her eyes bright. “That’s exactly what I’ve been doing all night.”

  His heart thudded in the best way. Pure joy and elation like he’d never felt washed through him.

  “Let’s get out of here, honey. We’ve got so much to do.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Bishop

  BISHOP’S MIND WAS all over the place on the drive home. Guilt tried to work its way in, but he wouldn’t let it stop him. Not tonight. He was going to have this, whether his conscience liked it or not.

  The moon had come out from behind clouds, and Bishop was glad to see it. He’d take Penelope to his room, and he’d leave his curtains open. Moonlight would stream through his windows, lighting her naked body for his delight.

  At dawn, Bishop would watch her sleep. Memorize the gut-achingly beautiful vision of her in his bed after he’d made love to her all night. He almost couldn’t believe what he was about to do. How many times had he jerked off in that bed, making himself come as he dreamed about doing exactly this?

  “You’re on the pill?” His husky, commanding tone sounded as brusque as a squadron leader’s.

  “Yes.”

  Did he detect a huskiness in her voice too? She was gripping the steering wheel with both hands, and her knuckles glowed white in the streetlights. Though he couldn’t see the speedometer, his senses told him she was driving faster than was prudent on the dark road.

  “Careful, honey.” He put his hand on her knee, a safe amount lower than the hem of her dress so as not to distract her driving. “Drive safe. I don’t want anything to delay getting you underneath me.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and made a noise between a moan and a gasp. “God, shut up,” she groaned. “You could make me come just by saying those things.”

  He couldn’t be sure, but he thought she sped up instead of slowing down. She never did what she was told.

  When they finally pulled into the drive, Pen shut the car off right in front of the manor’s main entrance instead of heading around back to the parking pad. They were out of the car and up the outside stairs like they were making an escape, and in a way, they were.

  Penelope whirled at the door to face him, breathless and wild, and Bishop moved straight from cresting the top stair to pressing her flat against the door with his entire body, his mouth already devouring hers.

  She reached high to wrap her arms around his neck and he shoved both hands up the back of her dress, cupping her bare ass in his wide palms, digging his fingers into her flesh. He ground his pelvis against her, making her feel what he was going to use to stretch her open.

  He slid his hands down to the backs of her thighs and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around him and squirmed like she couldn’t get him in her fast enough. The noises they made didn’t even sound human. They were animal noises of want and need. Frustration, personified.

  He took the keys from her hand and found the lock on the fourth try. It was hard to concentrate with Pen wrapped around him, biting his earlobe. They practically fell into the house.

  He forcibly unwrapped her from around him while she whined like a starving succubus.

  “Go upstairs to my room,” he demanded, jabbing a finger in that direction.

  She smiled wickedly. “Yes sir,” she drawled.

  He locked the front door and followed her up the stairs, pulling his shoes off as he went. He dropped them in his room and locked that door too. He turned slowly, pressing his back to the door.

  This was it. They’d locked out the rest of the world.

  He sucked in a lungful of air and considered what he was about to do. Pen stood next to his bed, washed in moonlight. This was the last moment to reconsider, but his defenses were too weak. Young, innocent Pen was ready to give him her world.

  He couldn’t fight it any longer, so he finally let that dam in his head break open, and it flooded his head with all the filthy things he wanted to do to sweet Penelope. All the things he’d never let himself consider before.

  Bishop cut across the room to her. Illuminated the way she was, she looked like an angel. Slowly, he began unbuttoning her dress. With every inch lowe
r, he kissed the flesh he exposed, until he was on his knees in front of her and her dress was pooled at her feet.

  “Take off your bra,” he demanded, not moving his eyes from her lovely mound, right in front of him. Her panties were still in his pocket. He put his hands on the outsides of her thighs, stroking her silky skin.

  When he heard the soft sound of her lingerie settle on the floor, he looked up. She was naked, her tits rounded, nipples distended and hard. He was right where he should be, he thought. On his knees, worshipping her.

  He buried his face against her pussy, kissing and sucking the sensitive flesh. She was still wearing her heels, and it gave her just the right height so if he crouched lower he could slide his tongue into the very front of her folds. Just enough so that if he probed, he could reach her hard button of a clit. He swiped the tip of his tongue against it and her breath caught.

  She plunged her hands into his hair and pressed him to her, canting her hips forward to allow him more direct access. He ran his hands up and down the backs of her smooth, trembling legs.

  “Bishop,” she gasped his name. “I want to sit so I can spread my legs.” She sounded like she couldn’t think straight.

  “No.” He wrapped his fingers around her ass cheeks, stretching his tongue further between her thighs. “You’ll come like this first.”

  “I need it, Bishop. I can’t stand it.” She dug her fingers into his scalp, her desperation evident.

  He spoke against her soft, wet flesh, his words a deep rumble from the darkness within him. “When you spread your legs for me tonight, Penelope, it’ll be so I can climb on top of you and stretch you open with my cock. Teach you how a woman pleases a man.”

  “Fuck,” she practically squealed. “It makes me so hot when you talk to me like that.”

  He changed his technique to sucking at the front of her lips, knowing it would stimulate her clit too. This would send her over the edge. He knew her body so well.

  He’d made studying his ward’s sexual response a special project since she’d turned eighteen.

  That thought was so dirty it made him groan against her, and Pen fisted her hands in his hair and convulsed, thrusting her hips forward in rhythm with her climax. He continued to lick until she only twitched with pleasure in his grip.

  He stood and scooped her up. She was so small in his arms. He placed her in the center of the bed and crawled onto the mattress, between her legs. He braced an arm next to her and leaned in, kissing her.

  His tongue, that she’d come on only moments before, was in her mouth, making her taste her own excitement.

  “You don’t know what you do to me, Pen.” His words had a pleading quality about them as he moved his hand to her breasts. He wasn’t sure he could survive what he was about to do to her. The pleasure, the need, the guilt, the ecstasy. God, it was too much.

  Cupping her breasts one at a time, he tested their weight in his hands as he deepened his kiss. With his thumb and forefinger, he pinched her nipples, stiffening their peaks to their furthest distension. He took his mouth from hers and bent so he could suck one of the hard tips into his mouth, flicking and suckling at it until her breaths became quick and shallow. He moved onto the other, lavishing on it the same, wet treatment.

  He straightened to fit his lips to hers again. He couldn’t get enough of her mouth, of making out with her. All those nights in the library when he’d watch Pen touch her bottom lip while she read, and he’d think of sucking that bottom lip between his teeth while he pinched her nipples or sank into her tight pussy. Now he could, for one night, and he wanted to remember every second.

  “There are so many things I want to do to you, Pen. So many ways I want to take you.”

  “Yes, Bishop, anything.” Her words were breathy and hoarse. “I just want you inside me.”

  He stopped kissing her long enough to remove his shirt, consciously throttling his haste so he didn’t rip off buttons. He removed her shoes and dropped them on the floor while she watched him, a huge smile of pure joy on her beautiful face. He climbed off the bed to finish undressing.

  Staring at her while he slowly removed his belt, he marveled that this gorgeous creature had any interest in him at all. How had the fates conspired to bring him this bright ray of happiness? Her hair was splayed across the pillows, her arms flung to the sides. She had one leg pulled up and leaning against her other. The position twisted her hips and gave her small form a sensuous curve down the length of her, highlighting all of her sensuous bows and arches.

  Christ, he was going to enjoy this.

  Until that moment, he’d resigned himself to the fact that he would never experience the ultimate expression of love and pleasure with his sweet Penelope. Never have his cock deep inside her. Never feel her tight body squeeze his thrusting shaft. That was all about to change.

  He took off his belt and dropped it with a clatter to the hardwood. After popping the button on his pants, he slowly lowered the zipper, the barely-audible sound shockingly lewd in the otherwise silent room.

  He shoved down his pants and boxers and stepped out of them. Then he paused, relishing the moment he stood over her like a conquering warrior, ready to claim his carnal spoils of war. His erection stood thick and hard, straining against nothing but air.

  “Ready for me, honey?”

  “Yes.” Her voice trembled, and that excited him.

  That’s how he knew the darkness had come to bed with them. But that dam in his head had broken, and he had one night not to ask why or feel guilty for the tainted things that turned him on.

  He crawled back onto the bed at her feet. Wrapping his hands around her ankles, he was glad she’d kept her legs together so that he could spread them. But, this close to actually taking his precious girl’s virginity, he was sizzling with testosterone and lust, and in danger of losing control. He shoved her legs apart a little too roughly, and she gasped.

  Closing his eyes, he sucked in a centering breath, and his fingers started a fine trembling on her delicate ankles. This is her first time, he reminded himself. This was her first time, and he was so in love with her that his heart ached every night, trying to sleep under the same roof as her and not hold her in his arms.

  No one could make love to Pen like he could, because no one loved her like he did. So, he tried to get a hold over his baser instincts. He reminded himself that the lovemaking had to come first, not the fuck. The fuck would come.

  She pulled her arms in to slide her hands down her abdomen, into the vee formed by her forcibly-spread legs. With both hands, she touched herself, rubbing at her pussy, making mewling sounds and lifting her hips as she worked her fingers into her folds.

  “Oh god, Bishop!” Her high, breathy voice was tight with sexual excitement. “You’re the only one who can give me what I want.”

  Seeing Pen touch herself because she was so impatient to have him moving in her nearly made him lose all restraint. Breathing deep, he gathered his fevered nerves. He knelt between her spread legs and climbed on top of her, holding his bulk over her smaller body with his elbows.

  Slowly making his way up, he paused to savor her swollen breasts while Pen continued to arouse herself, her hands stirring under his stomach. Her exhalations grew more frantic.

  Sucking a nipple between his teeth, he bit just hard enough to make her gasp. “Stop touching yourself and tell me what you think I can give you,” he demanded, referring to her earlier statement.

  Her eyes flew open and she pulled her hands away from her pussy as if he’d walked in on her masturbating.

  “Answer me.”

  “You can make love to me and fuck me,” she whispered. “You’re already doing it. Even when you’re rough, and you just take what you want, even then, I know you’re making love to me.”

  He shook his head, not wanting to believe that any sexual penchants he had that weren’t loving and gentle were acceptable. Or—even more incredible—desirable. “How can you say that, Penelope?” He could hear the self-lo
athing in his voice.

  “Because you hate that side of yourself. You would never show it to anyone.”

  He cringed at her words. She was right, and it made no sense. “Then why show it to you, of all people? The woman I’m in love with? The most precious thing to me in the world?” he croaked. “Doesn’t that prove there’s something wrong with me?”

  She laid a hand on the side of his face, just like she had in the car. Her wide eyes blinked up at him, and he saw love and adoration glowing on her face. It broke something in him.

  Her voice came soft, as if she knew to be gentle with these words. Knew they’d be hard for him to hear. “Because, your heart recognizes mine. You know, deep down, that I will love you, even those parts, and you love me too. Enough to lay yourself bare and hope I can forgive you.”

  He blinked rapidly. “I…I can’t.” He stumbled over his words like his brain had stopped working. “I can’t talk about this.”

  “That’s okay.” She slid the hand on his cheek around to the back of his head and pulled him down for a slow, deep kiss.

  His couldn’t process all she’d just said, not in this situation, but that kiss underlined one thing for certain—he loved her. He loved her more than his own life.

  “We’re not here to talk, Bishop.”

  She reached down between them and wrapped a hand around his erection. Pleasure twanged through him. Opening her mouth, she seemed to consider saying something, but closed it again instead. Then she spoke anyway, her words quick, as if she couldn’t stop herself from blurting out the thought after all.

  “You’re so gorgeous and smart. You’ve probably been with a lot of women, and you know I’ve never been with anyone. So…” She looked away and finished her statement without meeting his eyes. “Just tell me what to do, okay? I want to make you feel as good as those other women did.”

  He didn’t want to admit there was nobody else, because that would prove what she already knew—that he was completely fucked up. Sure, there had been some dry-humping, make out sessions, the occasional, ill-fated blowjob, and quite a few hand-jobs during his college and grad-school years, but as time had gone on, he’d shied further and further away from women, his guilt and shame growing with his maturing conscience.