by Piper Trace
The heat of the days led to cool nights. Bryce and Pen had grown comfortable with each other. He held her all night while she slept, and she almost felt guilty about how much she enjoyed his arms around her.
In the silky shorts and cami she wore to bed, it was impossible to ignore Bryce’s impressive erection pressed against her each night. The first night, neither of them acknowledged it. After fifteen minutes, where she’d imagined them both laying there in the dark, wide-eyed, wondering if the other was going to fall asleep, Bryce had finally gotten out of bed and slipped into the bathroom.
Five minutes later, he’d returned and curled against her again, his needs apparently taken care of in private.
Still, she’d fallen asleep that night thinking about Bryce’s cock, a dull throbbing pulsing between her legs. She couldn’t help it. After the evening of sex Bishop had given her, how could she be that close to an erection and not think of what it might feel like inside her?
Despite her soreness, her sex pulsed as it awakened. She imagined Bryce pushing her shoulder forward and shifting his weight on top of her, taking her from behind as Bishop had, with her bottom in the air and her cheek pressed into the mattress.
She thought about turning over and straddling him, bouncing on Bryce’s erection while he played with her tits, touching herself as she rode him to orgasm, just as she’d done with Bishop.
The second night, Bryce experimented with a gentle thrust. Canting his hips forward as he held her, he deftly fitted his thick bulge between her ass cheeks, effecting a nice squeeze for his cock as, in turn, his grinding stimulated Pen’s rear entrance.
After three long, slow thrusts from Bryce, she finally reacted, arching her back to press her bottom firmer toward him. He made a guttural noise of pleasure and rutted against her harder. Pen moaned as her clit began to throb, and he slid her hand into her pajama shorts to take care of herself.
“Ah, fuck Pen,” Bryce panted. “Your ass is so fantastic.”
She let him tug her shorts down.
“Are you touching yourself?” His words were reverent, as if he’d pulled off her shorts and revealed the greatest secret in the world.
“Yes,” she answered. “I want to come.”
Bryce groaned in a way that made her think he might have finished, just by dry-humping against her. But when she felt him spread her ass cheeks so he could better tuck his still rock-hard shaft between them, she knew he wasn’t done yet.
It made her wonder about his reaction. “The other girls you’ve been with, they don’t touch themselves?”
“No,” Bryce answered emphatically, as if he was so excited that Pen did.
She was confused. “But, how do they make sure they get off? Do you do it for them every time?”
He sighed and stopped fucking himself into the crevice of her bottom. Pulling her shoulder, he made her roll to her back.
“As much as I like to believe I’m a sex god, I’m guessing they just don’t get off every time.”
Pen frowned. “I don’t get that.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “But they all should, because it’s so fucking hot.”
Bishop had never made her feel like it was unusual. His first concerns, always, were that Pen knew how to give herself pleasure, and that he brought her to climax her every time.
“But after this I’m making a new rule,” Bryce proclaimed. “Any girl I go to bed with has to touch herself and let me watch.”
His sexy grin was visible in the dim light from the bathroom.
His put his hand on her upper thigh, and his smile faded. His voice dropped low and husky. “Are you going to let me fuck you now?” He looked down at her hand, still tucked into the front of her lacy thong. “And please, don’t let me interrupt you.” He hooked his thumb into one side of her panties and began sliding them down. “Just spread your legs and keep doing what you’re doing. Once I get inside, we’ll both get off together.”
She almost let it happen, but thoughts of Bishop stopped her. She grabbed his corded forearm. “Not tonight,” she whispered. “I’m not ready yet.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “That’s okay.” He was sweet in the way he assured her, and a wave of affection for him hit her hard. She was curious, though, when he pulled her lacy underwear off the rest of the way before going into the bathroom. When he returned, he was wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist, and he’d left the hallway light on to dimly illuminate the room. He dropped into a corner chair, facing the bed.
“What are you doing?” She giggled.
“Remember my new rule?” Bryce asked her softly. “Get to touching.” He nodded toward her lower body. “I’m just gonna watch and enjoy.”
He lifted his hips and loosened the towel, pulling it open in the front. Her eyes widened at the site of his thick member resting against his muscular thigh.
Bryce gave her that cocky, James Dean smile and wrapped a hand around his hardening dick.
“Show me,” he whispered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Penelope
ON THE LAST night of the trip, Penelope panicked.
She and Bryce had ordered dinner in and eaten on their private veranda. Afterward, Pen stood against the limestone balustrade, enjoying the way the moonlight glinted off the surface of the pool. Her eyes were focused on the twinkling reflections on the water, watching them light and disappear, but her mind was far away, already drawn to the moment she’d be in Bishop’s arms again.
Bryce came up behind her, his body caging hers from behind. Gently, he swept her hair off her shoulder and kissed her suntanned skin. Pen tilted her head, enjoying the lovely sensation of Bryce’s lips closing in on the sensitive area at the base of her neck.
She let her eyes fall closed. It really did feel good.
He wrapped a hand around her hip, squeezing his fingertips lightly into her flesh before sliding his palm around to her stomach. As he continued to nuzzle her neck, he moved his hand up until he cupped her breast over the thin fabric of her sundress. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and he groaned as he tweaked her nipple and leaned into her, his pelvis pressing against her ass.
For a moment, she’d hovered on the precipice of action, one nervy thought away from turning around and telling Bryce to take her to bed, that she was finally ready. But when she opened her mouth, she panicked.
“I need some time,” she’d tried to explain to Bryce, and then disappeared back inside the villa. She grabbed her phone and locked herself in the bathroom, trying to force her breathing to calm.
She called Bishop.
“Hello?” His sleep-laden voice nearly made her collapse. She’d missed him terribly, but even so, she hadn’t realized how deeply his absence had affected her peace of mind until she heard his voice again, and felt suddenly rooted, and stronger.
“Bishop, it’s me,” she whispered.
Now he sounded wide awake. “What’s wrong, honey? Are you okay?” He seemed ready to take off for the airport to find his way to her.
“I’m fine. Everything’s fine,” she assured him. “I just needed to hear your voice.” It was the best she could come up with. How could she explain why she was calling?
He was silent for a moment, then, when his voice came, it was loaded with apprehension. “Have you done what I asked you yet?”
“No,” she answered, and he exhales heavily into the phone. “I’m not sure I can, Bishop.”
He remained quiet.
“Bishop?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
He blew out a breath. “The truth is the problem, honey. The truth will only keep you attached to me, where you don’t belong.”
“Don’t,” she choked, but he continued.
“The truth is I love you enough to give you to someone else, even though it’s destroying me.”
Her heart ached, and she was suddenly racked with guilt. How could she have done anything with Bryce? Bishop was the man to whom sh
e belonged.
“Where is Bryce?” he asked.
“He’s out on the veranda, waiting for me.”
“This is your last night, Pen. I’ve prepared myself for this. Now hang up the phone and go fuck Bryce.” His words sounded harsh and tormented. She flinched.
“I-I’ve already done things with him, Bishop. Things I shouldn’t have.” Her words were so faint, she wasn’t sure he’d hear them, wasn’t sure if she wanted him to.
Silence again. “That’s good. That’s good, Pen.” His voice cracked, undermining the conviction of his praise. “We can talk about it when you get home, honey. Now go.”
“Why are you making me do this?” she choked.
“Because you deserve everything,” he thundered. “I have so little to offer that’s worth anything. I owe this to you and your father.”
She’d never heard him so angry.
“You promised me, Pen. You promised you’d try.”
She nodded, though she knew he couldn’t see it. Taking a deep breath, she resigned to try to obey him, but there was one problem. “My mind is on you, Bishop. I’m not turned on. He’s going to know I’m not excited for him.”
“So, get excited for him,” he challenged.
He must have moved around, because for a moment, all she heard over the phone was rustling.
“You are the most sexual woman I’ve ever met, Pen. Didn’t I teach you how to excite yourself?”
She made a devil’s bargain. “Will you stay on the phone while I touch myself?”
She heard rustling again, and then his words came, huskier than before. “Promise me, when you’re soaking wet, you will leave the bathroom and go fuck him.”
“I promise.”
“Good. Now tell me what you’re doing.”
“Hold on.” She made some preparations. “Okay,” she said when she was settled. “There’s a bench in here for me to sit on. I took off my panties and pulled my dress up.” She tucked her phone between her ear and shoulder so she’d have both hands free.
“Good, now spread your legs.” His voice had deepened to a gravelly rumble.
“Okay,” she whispered, drenched already just from Bishop directing her what to do. He seemed to have a link directly to her clit.
“Now relax, honey. You’re on a tropical vacation. There’s good-looking a guy in the next room who’s fantasizing right now about burying himself in that tight pussy of yours, just like I want to do.” Bishop’s words had an edge of unsteadiness. “Reach down there for me, Pen. Make yourself wet, and ready for a man’s cock.”
She was already more turned on than she had been all weekend with Bryce.
“Circle your clit. Does that feel good?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“That’s it, little Pen. Touch your pussy like I touch you when I want to spoil you with pleasure. Start moving your fingers up and down. Slide them over your clit, in between your folds. Are you doing that?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Good girl.” His words were tremulous.
“Are you starting to feel it building, honey?”
“A little.”
“Move your hand faster. Get yourself off like a good girl for me, okay?”
“Okay,” she promised. She was close. “Do you know how hot I get when you talk to me like you’re my guardian? It’s just so naughty.”
She swore she could hear him smile over the phone.
“Tell me how you’re touching yourself.”
“The same way you touch me before you let me suck you.”
“Mmm, fuck, Penelope.”
More shuffling from his end. Maybe the sound of covers being thrown off, then a drawer opening and closing.
“Okay,” he breathed, his voice guttural. “Is your clit hard?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Your nipples?”
“Yesss.”
“Pinch your hard nipples with your other hand.”
“Like you do?” she asked.
“Yes,” he practically groaned. “Like I pinch them.”
“Okay.” She whimpered.
“Dip your fingers into your sweet pussy. How wet are you now?”
“So wet. Wet for you.”
“No, wet for him.” His voice sounded strained. “You’re ready, honey. Go.”
“No,” she whined. “I want it to be you.”
“Penelope.” Her name was a warning.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll fuck him, but I want you to make me come first. Please, Bishop? Just make me come before I have sex with another man. I’ll go to him, but I want to go to him wet for you.”
He didn’t answer for a moment. Then from far away, thousands of miles away, he said okay.
“Are you still touching yourself,” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Don’t stop.” His words were huskier than before.
She bit her lip, and then asked what she wanted to know. “Are you touching yourself too, Bishop?”
He hesitated. “I am.”
“Good,” she said. “I want to please you.”
“Fucking that guy would please me,” he growled.
“Would it?” she challenged. “You want me to let his cock slide into me because I’m dripping wet for you?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Bishop grunted, his words growing breathier. “He won’t know that. He’ll only know that he’s got gorgeous Penelope under him, slick, hot and tight. Ready to be thoroughly fucked. When you come home, honey, I want you sore again from being used for sex. Isn’t that how you like it?”
“God, yes,” she moaned. “I’m still tender down there from all the times you fucked me before you sent me to Bryce.”
That made Bishop groan.
“What if I don’t enjoy the way it feels, like I do when you take me?” Her voice was tight. She was nearly there.
“You will, honey. When his dick is pounding into you instead of mine, touch yourself and remember you’re doing what you’re told by your guardian, and being my little slut.”
She made a small high-pitched noise, hardly able to contain herself at the wrong talk they were both getting off to. So wrong, but so dirty.
“Come for me now, little Pen. Get yourself off like a good girl.”
It was enough. She tumbled off the edge into orgasm, her head thrown back and her mouth open in a silent O as her body convulsed. She made small, strained noises as the waves of ecstasy washed over her.
“Are you coming, Penelope?”
“Yes,” she squeaked out. “Yes.”
He was silent for a moment, and then he groaned. “Oh Pen. My god, my little Pen.” She heard soft noises of pleasure that she recognized from her time in his bed, and she knew he had pleasured himself too. She heard shuffling sounds, presumably as he cleaned himself up.
“Are you ready now?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Then just go.”
Now that the heat of their excitement was over, Bishop’s voice had grown anguished again. “Don’t prolong it for either of us, honey. Go do it while your body is still ready for a man.”
“If I do this,” she whispered, her own despair leaking into her words. “There’s no going back.” Tears escaped her eyes and tracked hotly down her cheeks.
He made a choking noise, sounding overcome with emotion of his own. His voice shook. “But with us, honey, there’s no going forward. You must outgrow me. For your own sake.”
“No, please,” she pleaded. “Abandon all of those reasons in your head and just let yourself love me. Please, Bishop!” She was sobbing now.
“I love you, Pen.” Now his voice had firmed into a tone that brooked no argument. “That’s why I’m making you do this.” His words choked off, and when they came again, she could hardly understand them through his thick emotion. “It’s killing me, Penelope. It’s killing me. But it’s best for you, and that’s the only thing that matters to me.”
She didn’t answe
r. Her throat burned with helplessness.
“He’s waiting for you. Go. I don’t want to hear from you again until you’ve been fucked by that boy.” His voice was stern.
“Bish—”
“Go.” His command had the power of thunder over the line.
She hung up the phone.
*****
Not long after, she texted him.
It’s done.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Bishop
“I’M HOME! I’M home!” Penelope cried when she slammed through the door of the lab, nearly giving Bishop a heart attack.
“Fuck, Pen!” He clapped a hand over his chest. “How are you here?”
Seeing her there, actually standing in front of him, made Bishop knees threaten to collapse with relief and sheer joy. It was as if the dark clouds had suddenly blown away, revealing a gorgeous warm sun, lighting his world once more. Suddenly, everything was right in his life again.
Penelope’s hair was loose and wavy, like she’d just come from the beach. She had on a short, white sundress that complemented her tanned skin and happy smile. She was more gorgeous than he’d ever seen her.
She ran to him and leapt into his arms, wrapping her small frame around him. Laughter, pure and true, bubbled out of him, and instantly, naturally, they were kissing. He turned and set her on a lab table, kissing her everywhere.
Penelope kept her legs and arms folded around him, and grinned as he explored her with his lips, his thudding heart urging the oral examination of every bit of her exposed skin. Bishop had missed every inch of her. He couldn’t stop touching her breasts, squeezing her ass. He was already grinding a throbbing erection against the hot treasure between her legs.
He slipped the straps of the sundress off her arms and pulled the bodice down, exposing her pert, braless tits, thinking, Goddamn, I am the luckiest man alive.
With her clothes nearly off, he shoved her dress up with one hand and yanked the crotch of her panties aside, not even bothering to take them off. She was gasping with arousal, already begging him for it. His hand was fumbling to get his hard cock out of his pants when he caught himself.