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

by Piper Trace

  Jesus, what was he doing? This, this was all over now. Pen was free of him. That had been the plan all along.

  He wrenched himself away from her, knowing his eyes must looked crazed with indecision and denial of his lust. She still sat on the table, her swollen breasts heaving and her legs spread for him. She blinked, looking at him quizzically, her lips already pinked from his fervent kisses.

  “How are you home?” he repeated. “Your plane’s not supposed to get in for another couple hours.”

  “Our flight got bumped up, so Bryce gave me a ride home. You’d know that if I could reach you,” she scolded. “I was so freaked out because you didn’t respond to my last text or answer my calls. I was a nervous wreck the whole way home.” Her excitement was morphing to hurt and concern, and his chest squeezed, knowing it was about to get much worse.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I broke my phone.”

  She frowned, and then tilted her head. “How?”

  He didn’t look at her. “I dropped it.”

  “When?” Now her tone was suspicious. “A broken screen won’t stop the phone from working.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Did you smash it?” Her voice pitched high in disbelief. “Bishop,” she demanded, when he still didn’t respond. “Did you break your phone when you got my text?”.

  Then he met her eyes, silently brooding.

  She pulled up her dress and fixed the straps slowly, as if she needed a moment to think. Then she scooted off the table and came to him, reaching for him. “It’s okay, Bishop.” Her tone was soothing, and her face was awash with optimism. “Everything’s going to be okay now, because I did the things you asked, and I still choose you.” She stared up into his eyes as she spoke, loading the words with emotion, as if somehow the statement solved everything for the two of them.

  Bishop squinted at her, not comprehending her hope.

  She wrapped her small hands around his upper arms, her eyes alight. “I did what you told me to,” she repeated. “I dated another guy. I opened my heart. I gave him every chance you asked me to give him, and I still choose you.” She said the last words like they made all the difference.

  Bishop began to understand and his stomach dropped in a sickening freefall. His mouth fell open and his heart beat painfully in his throat. “No, Pen,” he croaked. “No honey. That’s not how it works.”

  She stilled, her face a mask of confusion and growing panic. “But I did everything you said,” she repeated. “I’ve gotten out. I’ve had experiences. Now my decision is mature, informed.” She parroted his concerns back to him.

  “Even then,” he explained, “we can’t be together. We simply can’t be together, Pen. Haven’t I been clear about that?”

  “Yes, but your reasons.” Her eyes were growing more and more alarmed. “I took care of most of them, didn’t I? And we’re in love. The rest of your issues won’t matter after a while, if you let us try. You’ll see. We’ll handle them together, Bishop.” She grabbed his hands, begging him to relent.

  “No,” he shook his head, panic of his own rising up inside him.

  He couldn’t let his girl dedicate herself to him. He couldn’t be that selfish. Bishop didn’t deserve to lock Penelope into his morose life, and he couldn’t do that to her father, either, not after what Professor Sullivan had done for him. Bishop’s mentor wouldn’t want that for his beautiful daughter.

  And after what Bishop had done in his past, he couldn’t reward himself with the once-in-a-lifetime happiness that Pen gave him. And that happiness proved it for him—without Pen, he had only misery, but with her, everything exploded in light, as if his poor eyes had finally been opened to the world.

  That’s how he knew it was her and not them together who was responsible for that wonder.

  She alone brought it, and he didn’t deserve to cleave to her, weighing her down. Pen belonged with a partner as equally priceless as she was.

  “I can’t. I thought you understood, honey. Your father believed I would do what’s right for you. And then there’s my past. I’m not a good partner for anyone.”

  “No.” Her face crumbled, and so did his heart.

  He hated himself more than ever in that moment. How could he have allowed it to get this far? He’d already wronged her so many times, and now he was causing her this pain that could have been avoided all along.

  He steeled himself to be strong for her. A father-figure. Her guardian. “Penelope, I want you to go.” He pointed toward the stairs, not meaning he wanted her to leave right that minute, but meaning she needed to abandon him and cultivate a life bigger than Bishop and that house.

  She let go of his hands and stepped away. “You’re serious?” she asked, her face horrified.

  “Yes,” he insisted, as much as it was tearing him apart. “One vacation with one guy doesn’t mean you’re ready to throw your life away with me.”

  Her face began to blank, causing dread to bloom in his chest. She didn’t look okay. She started backing for the door, shaking her head.

  “Fuck you,” she whispered.

  “Pen, please. I’m worried about you.”

  “No.” Her hand shot up as if protecting herself from a blow. “Screw you, Bishop, for throwing me away. Screw you for not believing in our love.”

  “Don’t go like this,” he begged.

  “Oh, I’m going.” She laughed, and the sound had an edge of hysteria. “I’ve got a big, exciting life ahead of me that doesn’t involve you, apparently. I’d better get to it.”

  His stomach clenched. He was beginning to have a really bad feeling about this.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Professor Warner keeps asking me to drop by,” she said, her words choking in her throat. “I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t.”

  “Pen, you can’t.” His voice held all the warning of the fear inside him. “He is not a nice man.”

  She laughed again. “What do I need with a nice man. All I’ve got are nice men!” She threw her hands in the air. “Bryce is a nice man, but when I’m with him, I can only think of you. You are a nice man. Too nice to claim me for your own. So, I might as well go try my luck with a man who’s not so nice.”

  Bishop started to say something and she cut him off, her tone eerily calm.

  “I’m in trouble, Bishop. I am going to fall completely the fuck apart if I don’t do something. Maybe whatever nasty things Professor Warner has to introduce me to will take my mind off my demolished heart, which you broke.”

  “He’s dangerous,” Bishop shouted at her, but she turned to flee. “No!” He lunged for her, but she was already halfway up the stairs. “Penelope,” he screamed after her. “My driver’s not here! I can’t come after you! Penelope, don’t!”

  He was stumbling up the stairs in a blind panic, but by the time he’d made it to the top, he heard her car peel out of the driveway, and his heart nearly exploded with fear.

  *****

  Penelope

  It wasn’t hard to find Warner’s house. Other than her father, most of the full-time professors lived on what was known as Professor Row. The street bordered the other side of campus from Sullivan Manor, and was lined with charming, vine-covered, brick cottages that Cooper College had owned for almost a hundred years. Each mailbox was conveniently labeled with the last name of the instructor who resided in the home.

  She pounded on his door, telling herself the young, handsome professor was probably the only man who might be able to take her mind off Bishop. She wasn’t afraid of the things Warner wanted. Though she wasn’t ready to have sex with another man, she was willing to pick and choose from the kinky professor’s sexual repertoire, experimenting with anything that looked interesting.

  But when Warner didn’t answer right away, Pen’s mind slipped back to Bishop’s face when she’d first come home. No one in her life had ever shown such pure, intense joy just to see her. Despair punched a sudden, ragged hole through her chest, and she actually
doubled over, hugging her torso. What she was about to do would hurt the man she loved so much.

  She braced a hand on the door and tried to pull herself together. Bishop wouldn’t let them be a couple. This was all his fault. He had no say anymore in whom she shared her body with.

  Nevertheless, she started to feel relieved that Warner hadn’t answered the door. Of course he’d gone away for Fall break. Most everyone at Cooper College had. She wasn’t calling it off. She’d just have a little more time to think before she came knocking at Warner’s door again.

  Just then, the door opened, swinging in, and Pen, who was still leaned against it, fell inside, straight into Warner’s arms.

  “Whoa, whoa, what is this?” Warner asked, as he helped her find her feet again, his hands clamped firmly to her upper arms.

  She looked up. “S-sorry.” Her tongue seemed unable to come up with anything else to say. She realized she must look like a crazy person, showing up like that and practically falling on top of the man.

  “Miss Sullivan,” he said, his voice sounding more stern than pleased to see her. “Did we have an appointment I forgot?”

  She shook her head. “I—sorry, I made a rash decision coming over here unannounced. I’ll just go.”

  She shifted her body weight toward the threshold and tried to take a step, both to leave and to extricate herself from his tightening grip, but he must have anticipated her move, because he pivoted his back toward the door, using his superior strength and weight to swing her further into the house. She yelped, caught off guard by his oddly aggressive treatment of her.

  “No, no,” he said, sounding distracted. “I’m actually glad you’re here.” He spoke without looking at her, as he leaned back out the door, peering left and right of the house. Pen knew there was no one out there. She hadn’t seen a soul on her drive across campus. Everyone was away for break.

  Warner stepped forward, pushing her with him, and kicked the door shut behind them. Without releasing her, he moved a hand to grip her wrist, and pulled her to a couch set in the center of his main room.

  He pulled her down on the couch next to him, now giving her his full attention. The grip on her wrist turned into him holding her hand with both of his.

  “Miss Sullivan,” he began, his eyes practically glowing, “I have to confess. I had begun to think you weren’t going to come and see me voluntarily. I’d thought I was going to be forced to become a lot more persuasive.”

  He shifted to face her, moving her hand in his to rest on his upper thigh. He seemed overly excited to have her there, and her uneasiness grew. It was a strange level of excitement. Warner seemed almost strung out. His eyes travelled all over her, frenzied almost.

  “I really think I should go,” she said warily.

  “Go? But you just got here. There’s no one around but us, dear. Everyone on campus has left town, it seems.” This time, he pulled her hand all the way up his leg, placing her palm on his crotch. His idea of why she had come was obvious.

  Pen’s heart was a jackhammer, and she searched her brain for what she should do. This is what she’d come for, wasn’t it? So why was she so freaked out? Because Warner was so direct about it?

  No, it wasn’t that. Something just didn’t feel right. Bishop had said the man might be dangerous. Could her guardian be right? Alarm began to wind cold fingers through her gut.

  Warner pressed her hand against his erection. “You have a decent grade in my class, Miss Sullivan, but it could be improved. Let’s see what you can do to earn that A plus.”

  She stared at him with wide eyes. Her brain felt like a cornered rabbit, and she couldn’t wring any action out of it.

  Warner made a noise of irritation. “Don’t look at me like a scandalized virgin. I saw how you acted in The Hideaway with your guardian, practically sitting on his lap. I know you’ve spread your legs for him.”

  For some reason, Pen found herself shaking her head, denying the truth.

  Warner tilted his head, considering her. “You came to my house alone, dressed in a garment far too skimpy for this weather, for an obvious reason.”

  A slow smile crawled across his face, and Pen nearly stopped breathing at the cruelty she saw in it.

  “It’s okay to be a slut, Miss Sullivan, but if it will make you feel better to pretend your willingness to participate in what we’re about to do is dubious, that’s okay. I’ll actually enjoy it more that way.”

  Pen shot to her feet, trying to pull her hand from the professor’s grip. “I’ve got to go,” she squeaked, her voice high and tremulous.

  He stood too, not releasing her. “Let me get you a drink so you can relax. Maybe you’ll enjoy it.”

  She gaped at him, horrified. “I’m leaving,” she bit out. “Let go of me.” She considered stomping on his foot, but fuck it. She couldn’t excuse this as a misunderstanding any longer. The look in his eyes told her she was in real danger. She decided to go straight for the balls instead. It might be her only chance to fight.

  But before she could shift her weight to knee him, Warner tossed her, face-first, over the back of his couch like she was a rag doll. He was on her in an instant, hauling her to a kneeling position and twisting one of her arms painfully behind her back. He pinned her pelvis to the back of the couch by grinding his erection into her ass.

  “No,” she screamed. “I don’t want to do this.”

  “Sorry, Miss Sullivan, but I’m just not in the mood for a clumsy hand-job or a timid cock-sucking today.”

  She struggled, but was no match for him. “Stop!” She was in a panic. “I don’t want this!”

  He tore her panties down so roughly he ripped them. “I don’t care what you want,” he growled. He pulled her dress up, exposing her now bare bottom, and smacked her hard on her ass, causing her to yelp. “Now stop screaming, Miss Sullivan. There’s no one to hear you.” His voice was gruff and husky. “If you keep struggling, I’ll break your goddamn arm.”

  “Get your fucking hands off me! This is rape, and you better believe I’m going to press charges, you fucking asshole.”

  Warner laughed. “And how are you going to explain it?” He affected a girly voice. “I only came over to suck off my professor in exchange for a grade, but he fucked me instead.”

  She heard him unbuckle his belt and she struggled harder, screaming for all she was worth.

  With terror, she felt the wet tip of her professor’s cock ram against the bottom of her ass cheek as he tried to line it up with her entrance while she fought to escape. She had a brief moment to think that she should have listened to her guardian, and then Warner tried again, this time nearly succeeding in penetrating her.

  I’m about to be raped, she thought, as her mind started to disconnect from reality. Just as she started to black out with fear, there was a pounding on the door.

  “Warner! Open the fucking door!”

  Bishop!

  “Help!” she screamed. “Bishop, help me!”

  The door busted in.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Penelope

  NEXT WAS A blur of police, statements, and an ambulance. The ambulance was for Warner though, so Pen didn’t mind that. Bishop had beat him unconscious before Pen could finally get him to stop.

  With Warner out cold and the police on their way, Penelope finally had a chance to really look at Bishop. He was completely disheveled. His hair wasn’t just wild, it had leaves in it. He had a bleeding scrape on his cheek.

  She frowned, taking in his condition. There were holes in both the knees of his pants, and his skin underneath was bleeding and pockmarked with dirt and gravel. Trembling, she took his hands in hers and turned them up. The palms and heels of both his hands were scraped raw, and embedded with the same dirt and gravel as his knees.

  She lifted her head. “Bishop, how did you get here?”

  “I ran.”

  And suddenly, she understood, and she started crying.

  When she’d left Sullivan Manor in crazed ange
r, Bishop only had one way to follow her. He’d run blindly, the entire distance, not able to see well enough to avoid tripping and falling over curbs and sidewalks. He’d endured this torture to make sure she was okay, and he had saved her.

  “I’m sorry,” Pen sobbed, kissing his palms. “You could have really hurt yourself.”

  “I would do anything to protect you honey. Anything.”

  *****

  Bishop

  Hours later, Bishop wrapped his arms around her. “It’s okay, Pen.” But she couldn’t stop shaking.

  “If you hadn’t gotten there,” she cried. “God, Bishop. If you hadn’t gotten there when you did…”

  “But I did,” he soothed. “You’re safe now.”

  “You don’t understand.” She turned in his bed to look into his eyes. “If you hadn’t gotten there when you did, then you would no longer be the only man I’ve ever been with.”

  For a moment, he was speechless. “But Bryce… Your text…”

  She shook her head. “I lied. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t do it. I want you to be my only one, ever, Bishop. You took my virginity, and I want you to know you’re the only man who’s ever had me, or ever will.”

  “Oh god, honey,” he groaned, fitting his mouth to hers. Kissing away her tears.

  Even though she was still crying, he shifted on top of her. He couldn’t stop himself, and he couldn’t wait. Without taking his lips from her body, he reached down with one hand to pull his pajama pants down. He had nothing on under them.

  Pen was still wearing her sundress. When Bishop had carried her into the house and placed her gently in his bed, she hadn’t moved, she’d only curled up and shook. Her ripped panties had been confiscated as evidence by the police.

  Bishop pushed her legs apart with his knees and entered her sweet pussy without any preparation. He just wet the head of his cock and shoved into her, and she spread for him like his good little Penelope, hoping to please him, even through tears.