His Prize Pupil

“You didn’t?”

“No. I wouldn’t. Not knowing how hard I want to…” I rake my free hand through my hair. “She quoted me a price and I thought it was high, but considering what I wanted…considering how long I’ve wanted it, I agreed to pay.”

Alana’s mouth drops open. “So Estelle just threw in my virginity like a free toaster?”

I puff a laugh, shaking my head. “You’re kind of hilarious, you know that?”

“Oh.” Pleasure erases the shock from her face. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

“So you didn’t even try to bargain with her, huh?”

“Thankfully, no. That would have been a crime, considering who she sent me.” I trail a finger down her throat, between the soft valley of her breasts and over the flat plane of her belly, stopping when I reach the belt of her robe, gently tugging it open. “She could have asked a lot more for you, Alana. I’d have paid anything.”

“There’s always the tip.”

We smile at each other and I stand there marveling over the turn this night has taken. It’s not a damn thing like I anticipated. She is nothing I would have known to anticipate, this gorgeous, witty, brave—

Virgin.

I can’t fuck this girl, can I?

Not like this. Not in a brothel. Her first time should be special. On a balcony in Paris or something, while the Eiffel Tower sparkles in the distance.

And I need to be the one between her legs.

The ferocity of that wish catches me off-guard. I didn’t come here tonight expecting to meet someone who would knock the wind out of me, but here I am. I shudder to think about how close I came to turning down this trip to Julian. I’d have missed meeting Alana.

Now that I have, what am I supposed to do with her?

This was supposed to be one night. Nothing about it was supposed to follow me home. Can anything reasonably come of this…connection with Alana? She knows about my hunger. She’s been well informed on the matter. What am I supposed to do? Introduce her to my peers as my girlfriend? She can’t be a day older than…

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

Jesus Christ. It’s inexcusable that my cock throbs all the harder. A barely legal virgin. I should not want to pry her thighs apart and rut this awful ache away, but I can’t help but wonder how tight her pussy would be. How she’d need soothing when I broke through her cherry. How she’d need to be taught to open up for me.

You should be ashamed of yourself.

“Gavin?”

“I can’t do this to you, Alana,” I say, my voice guttural with need. “This was supposed to be a transaction…but it won’t be that easy with you. You deserve better than some sick fuck getting off on treating you like his little girl.”

She inhales sharply at those two dangerous words and I catch a flare of excitement in her eyes. Is there a possibility she would enjoy this kind of play as much as I would?

No.

On no planet is that possible. She doesn’t have enough experience to know what she likes or doesn’t like, but once she figures it out, I’m sure it won’t match the dirty scenarios in my head. I’m going to drive this girl home safely right now to her parents’ house, just to remind myself exactly how young and innocent she is. Then I’m going back home to put this disgusting fantasy behind me.

I sense Alana’s panic when I step around her, intending to collect my coat, then go find Estelle so I can bring back Alana’s clothes, so she can get dressed to leave.

She stops me in my tracks when she drops the robe to the ground.

“Please don’t go…Daddy.” She unhooks her emerald green bra and lets it fall on top of the robe, showing off the roundest, bounciest little pair of tits I’ve ever seen in my life. “I’ll be a good girl, I promise.”

3

Alana

Bold move.

Before I came into this room, Estelle gave me a crash course in age play.

I’m scarred forever after listening to some of those words come out of her mouth, but I digress. She made it sound like a nasty bit of business. A man scratching an itch, a woman earning something shiny out of the deal. But I can’t imagine it being like that with Gavin.

For one, he’s had an attack of morality and is ready to call the whole thing off to protect my virtue. That’s not something a man without honor would do, is it? And two…his sexual frustration is breeding something identical in me. I want to slake his thirst. I feel responsible for it. Like I was maneuvered here by fate tonight with a purpose.

God, that sounds insane, but I don’t want him to leave this room without kissing me. Or touching me. A hot prickle started under my skin the moment I opened the door and saw him, in all his tall, dark, scholarly splendor. He’s in suit pants and a white shirt, the sleeves cuffed around his elbows. His dark, wavy hair is a little long on top, as if he’s been too busy reading books and walking along the edges of misty cliffs to get it cut. He smells sharply of bergamot and smoky cedar and as soon as I was within three feet of him, I wanted to bury my nose in his neck and fill my lungs with it.