Highest bidder club comp.., p.13
Highest Bidder Club : Complete Collection 1-5, page 13
Getting my hand between us, I drag the zipper of my sweatshirt down, breaking away from our kiss to look down at her body. She shrugs out of the oversized shirt and with each shuddering breath, her lush tits heave over the top of the lacy bra that barely covers them. Her rosy nipples are hard peaks under the sheer fabric and I lean down to nuzzle each one, smiling at her gasp.
“I want to lick these tasty little tits of yours, April,” I tell her. “You promised me an hour.”
“Yes, do whatever you want.”
Her cheeks flame bright red as I unhook the bra and roll it down off her shoulders. “You’ve never even been topless in front of a man, have you?”
Her innocence inflames me, her blushes and gasps making it harder to hold back. I’ve got my work cut out for me if I’m going to make her beg me to fuck her by the end of my hour. As I lean her back onto the couch and lick my way down her smooth stomach, her back arches, and her hands run over my hair and across my shoulders.
“You’re so hard,” she sighs, squeezing my arms. Then she giggles when I nudge my cock against her thigh. “That, too.”
I reach the top band of her panties, the barest scrap of lace covering her. The need to taste her makes me almost feral, but I ease my hand between her thighs instead of tearing her panties off with my teeth. When my fingers brush her swollen clit through the fabric, she jolts and cries out. Working my fingers in slow circles, I look up to see her head thrown back, eyes closed, her hair fanned out in a wild spray all around her on the couch.
“April,” I say reverently, pushing her panties aside to sink my fingers into her wet heat. “You’re so damn gorgeous, little one.”
Feeling me invade her with my fingers makes her eyes fly open, and she looks down at me, her teeth clamped around her lip. “What are you doing?” she moans.
I freeze my hand. “Should I stop?”
Her back arches as she writhes and clamps her legs together around my hand. “No, don’t stop. Keep doing that.”
“This?” I ask, easing a finger back inside her at the same time I coax her clit. I’m sick of the panties in my way and they’re so flimsy they’re easy enough to tear off. Tossing them aside, I spread her legs and begin kissing my way down her inner thigh. “Or this, April? How do you think you’d like it if I licked you here?” I stroke my fingertip across her clit and then down to dip inside her.
Both our noises mingle together as I push deeper to stretch her virgin pussy. I can’t get over how tight she is, how good it’s going to feel to sink my cock inside her.
“I think I’d like it,” she says, her hand shyly reaching for my hair.
“What?” I ask, half confused by the strongest lust I’ve ever felt, and half wanting to make her say it.
“Lick me there,” she whispers. “If you want to, I mean.”
“You don’t know how much I want to lap up and down your pussy,” I tell her, scooting down to settle between her thighs.
“How much?” she asks. Is there a hint of teasing in her voice now? I like it.
Gripping her hips in a tight hold, I lean down and stroke my tongue over her slippery nub, smiling at her gasp. “Just slightly less than I want to fuck you, little girl.”
“I want it now too,” she says, pulling on a handful of my hair. “I don’t know how long it’s been, but I don’t need the entire hour.”
With a laugh, I slide my tongue up and down her juicy slit and push it deep inside her tight cunt. In and out; the way I want to pound her with my cock as she wriggles against my hold on her. Hearing her tell me she wants this as much as I do makes it difficult to concentrate, but I want to give my little virgin something to remember. I continue pleasuring her, causing her to writhe in ecstasy, her warmth and wetness intensifying against my lips. Her noises drive me on, make me feral with need, and I don’t stop until she screams.
April takes at least a handful of my hair in her fists when I push her over the edge and make her come. I keep lapping at her, slower and softer, until she’s limp on the couch. Propping myself up on my elbows between her legs, I look at my prize and grin.
“Has any man ever made you come, little one?” I ask. “Do you want more of that?”
“No, and yes,” she says. “Yes, I want more.” Her limp hands curl into fists and she swallows hard when I jump up to get my jeans down. My iron-hard cock stands straight out in front of me and she squeezes her eyes shut. I guide her hand to wrap around my shaft and watch as she slowly looks down at what she’s carefully stroking. I think it might kill me.
“This looks pretty big,” she says. “Pretty damn huge, in fact.”
“You’re going to love it,” I promise.
“More like you are,” she says, still looking concerned even as she tightens her grip and moves her hand a little faster.
“Oh, you have no idea how much I’m going to enjoy fucking your sweet little virgin pussy, April. But I swear you’ll like it too.” I ease my fingers into her slippery opening. “Nice and wet and ready.”
I take her hand away and get in between her thighs, taking a second to look down at her perfect body. Her breath comes in harsh pants and she reaches for my shoulders. “I don’t know what to do to make you feel good, too,” she says
“Whatever you want,” I tell her. “Whatever you damn well want will work just fine. Now spread your legs for me, little girl. I need to be inside you.”
As she wraps her legs around my hips, I slowly, torturously push my cock inside her. She’s so, so tight, and I’d rather jump in front of a moving vehicle than hurt her. She gets impatient and digs her fingers into my shoulders, lifting her hips so that I’m soon balls deep and barely hanging on. With every ounce of self-restraint I possess, I force myself to remain still.
“Please,” she begs. “Move. Fuck me. I need to feel what you did before.”
With a growl I do as she commands, shocked and pleased at my virgin’s hunger. I lose all sense of time and place. There’s only April clinging to me and crying out with every swift thrust of my cock inside her hot little pussy.
I need to watch as she gets closer to another orgasm, wondering how I’ve managed to hang on so long with the way she moves beneath me. Her mouth is open as I pound into her and I lean down to kiss her. Our tongues tangle and she sobs, digging her fingers into my arms.
“Please, Michael.”
It’s the first time she’s said my name. I don’t even remember telling her. “Right now,” I promise. “Let me make you come again, little girl. I want to feel that tight pussy of yours clamp onto my cock like a vice when you scream.”
“Yes, yes,” she agrees, digging into my arms as I swirl her clit with my fingers, ramming deep at the same time. Her scream is muffled against my chest and the exquisite agony of her spasms around my shaft make me join her.
I rest my head against her heaving shoulder, about to lose my mind and more than happy about it. “I’ve got to come inside you,” I tell her. “I’ve got to fill your pussy up, little girl.”
All she can do is breathlessly nod and I let loose, shooting inside her until I collapse in a mindless, gasping heap on top of her.
Neither of us can speak for long minutes, just holding onto one another and breathing deeply to try to recover.
“Holy hell,” I manage. “Good first time?”
“Very good first time,” she says with a laugh.
Chapter 7
April
It takes me a while to come back to earth. It really feels like I’ve been shot into space and floated around on a cloud for a while. I can’t believe I thought the deal he offered me was going to end in letting him kiss me for an hour, then having him take me home. I was so grateful he was being so kind, but despite his amazing, muscular body and almost otherworldly face, I didn’t think I’d be giving up my virginity tonight. His offer seemed much too good to be true.
It was too good to be true. What Michael made me feel, I mean. His hands, his mouth, the way his strong body dominated mine—I don’t even think it took an hour before I was begging him to claim what he’d won. If he stopped, had been the angel I mistook him for, it might have killed me. I’m just glad he kept going. This night could have been so much worse, but there’s no way it could have been better.
I went from thinking I wanted him to take me home to lying here now, dreading when he will. It’s not just dread of facing Uncle Harris, it’s not wanting to leave Michael. The only reason I don’t want to stay much longer is because I’m starting to get worried about Amelia.
He doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get rid of me, even though he’s gotten what he wanted. In fact, he seems perfectly relaxed and happy as he pulls me against his chest and wraps his arm around me. He wants to know all about me, but there’s not that much to tell. My life has been pretty pathetic, and there’s not much I want him to know.
But he pulls it out of me, just the way he drew out my passion. Before I know it, I’ve told him about being forced into being an accomplice in Uncle Harris’s petty thieving ring. The only thing I hold back on is how mean Uncle Harris can get sometimes because I don’t want to see pity in Michael’s eyes. I couldn’t stand it.
“I’ve never actually stolen anything,” I tell him, wishing I could take it all back because his hand has stopped stroking my arm. “I just do what he tells me to. Clean the stuff up, take it apart…” I don’t tell him why I haven’t run away from such a shameful life; not sure I can trust him to know about Amelia having to live the same way.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he tells me gruffly. “You’re trying to survive.”
I roll over and rest my elbows on his chest, searching his handsome face. My breasts press against him and he wraps an arm around me, drawing me down for a slow, steamy kiss. I pull back, not about to be distracted.
“Your turn now,” I say. “Tell me all about you.” When his brow furrows, I feel shy. “I mean, whatever you want to tell me. If anything...”
His slow smile melts my heart and I feel the answering tug between my thighs that makes me press closer to him. “It’s not that exciting,” he says, then ends up enthralling me with his life story.
He enlisted in the Army from the time he finished high school, stationed in Europe for most of his time in the service. He fell in love with France and made a bunch of friends there, traveling by motorcycle from one side to the other, from the English Channel all the way down to Spain. His aunt left him a moderate inheritance when he got out of the military, and then at that part of the story, his voice trails off and his eyes become unfocused, as if he’s thinking about something far away.
“What then?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I’ve just been working at The Black Door since then,” he said, though I suspect there’s more.
Ah, I get it. At least I think I do. I must be where the inheritance ended up. Does he regret it? He pulls me close for another soul-stirring kiss and the worry vanishes. It doesn’t matter in the long run, because the sun is now peeking through the windows. We’ve spent the whole night wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing and touching and talking, and he still doesn’t seem in any hurry to let me go.
It’s Saturday, which means Amelia has no school, no safe place to be all day if I’m not there. “I should go home,” I say anxiously.
His grasp around me tightens. “You don’t ever have to go back to that asshole again, April.”
My first reaction is panic. Will he keep me here? Then I feel pissed off at Uncle Harris. He truly ruins everything. I hold myself stiff in Michael’s arms, trying to find a way to explain without letting on how bad things really are at home.
“What’s making you look so hesitant?” he asks. The kindness in his voice makes me relax, but just a little. He nuzzles my neck, kissing his way up my jaw to swipe his tongue across my lower lip while one of his hands works its way down my back. “Do I need to convince you some more? How about giving me another hour, little one?”
I love his teasing, and I definitely want more, but my worry for Amelia won’t let me truly relax again. “Unless you’re going to keep me hostage here, I have to get home,” I say, thrusting out my chin and trying to pretend his roaming hands aren’t melting my resolve by the second.
He rolls me to the side, tracing the faded old bruises along my rib cage with his fingertips. “I can’t let you go back to that,” he tells me.
I push his hand away. “Those are from tripping on the stairs and ramming into the banister at my apartment,” I say, not meeting his eyes.
“April,” he says, soft but firm. He doesn’t believe me.
“He’s not that bad,” I tell him. “Now are you the angel I believe you to be, or are you a devil who’d keep me here against my will?”
He frowns, then kisses me until I swoon against him, dizzy even though I’m lying down. Just when I’m about to forget everything in my life but what he’s doing to me, he pulls away and sits up, reaching for his shirt.
“Come on, then. Get dressed.” He grins, looking at my tattered underwear in pieces across the room. “I’ll get you something. Hang on.”
He brings me some running pants and the sweatshirt I wore last night. I have to roll the waistband half a dozen times to keep them from falling down. I wonder how I’ll explain the strange outfit to Amelia when I left in a sweater and skirt; which must still be in the dressing room at the club.
We’re quiet on the drive back to my apartment, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence. I just don’t know what’s left to say. As he pulls up in front of my building, I get out and stand on the stoop, watching as he slowly drives away. Is he waiting for me to run after him, or is that wishful thinking? I certainly want to.
As his car rounds the corner and disappears, it feels like the last bit of happiness I was so graciously offered is disappearing along with him. I don’t want to relegate last night to just a memory, but that’s all it can ever be. A perfect, wonderful memory.
I hope to get inside and change my clothes before anyone notices I’m back, but Uncle Harris is already awake, brewing coffee in the tiny kitchen. He’s in a great mood. Too good. His smile is more like a lion baring its teeth when he turns to me.
“I take it the auction money’s already in your account?” I ask, keeping my tone from sounding as bitter as I feel. If I could get my hands on even a tenth of that money, Amelia and I could run and never look back.
“It is, indeed,” he crows. “And it was such a success I’m already working on another one. This time we won’t go through the club though, so I can keep all the earnings. The clientele won’t be as upscale, and you’re used goods now, but you’ll still make plenty.”
I have to stare at the tattered rug on the floor so he doesn’t see the hatred I feel for him. I really think I could kill him then and there, but then what would happen to Amelia after I went to prison? I don’t say a word as I somehow get to my room without lashing out at him in utter fury. Amelia is sitting up on her bed in her outgrown princess pajamas with a book on her lap. I wonder if she slept at all last night or stayed up worrying about me.
She looks over my strange attire while I force a smile and tell her I’ll play a video game with her as soon as I’m done showering. I don’t want to erase the feel and scent of Michael from my body, but it’s an excuse to lock myself in the bathroom and away from her questioning eyes. I make it until the water is blasting noisily from the shower jets before breaking down into uncontrollable sobs.
Chapter 8
Michael
Since I don’t currently have a job and I can’t get my mind off of April, I decide that we’re not finished yet. Dropping her off at her apartment was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, but she’d been adamant, almost panicked about getting back there.
I didn’t understand it then, but now I do.
Waking up the next morning, free of my position as head of security at The Black Door, but nowhere near free from the thing that got me fired; I did a little sleuthing.
Some might call it stalking, but I called it curiosity. Active 1: Never mind that when I saw April coming out of her apartment building that morning, all I wanted to do was run over and sweep her into my arms. Press her against my body where she belonged. Then a much younger girl followed her out of the building. She looked like a mini version of April, maybe eleven or twelve years old.
With their heads down the whole way, it was easy to follow them the couple blocks to the middle school where April hugged her goodbye, then turned and scurried back to her building. Her little sister. April didn’t want to leave her with that monster they had to call an uncle. I followed them every day for a week, looking for a reason. A new bruise, because I didn’t buy her story about falling down the stairs for one second.
I stay hidden while hoping she’ll sense my presence and demand to know why I’m watching her.
But despite April looking more defeated and tired by the day, it’s been a week and nothing’s shown up. She never looks left or right, just keeps her head down and drags herself home after dropping off her sister. Now I’m sitting in my own tiny apartment, at the crack of dawn, sipping my black coffee before heading out to follow them on their trek to the school. Then I plan to stake out April’s place in case she needs me.
I’m convinced I need to do something, but what? I see my little hole in the wall with fresh eyes. The kitchen, living area, and my bedroom are basically the same room, divided by the kitchen counter and the couch that turns into a bed. There’s another room that anyone who lives in the middle of the country would call a walk-in closet at best, that I’ve turned into a makeshift office. It barely fit the desk and chair I shoved in there. The single bathroom is even smaller than that.
I try to imagine bringing April and her sister here, but there just isn’t space. Considering the apartment further, I dismantle the desk and haul out my old camping gear. The inflatable mattress fits from one wall to the next with no room at the head or foot, and there’s about fourteen inches of free space on the side.
