Page 12 of Freckles

The reaction is too visceral to be fake.

She really can’t stand him.

“How much did he pay you?”

“He didn’t because…” Her nostrils flare at whatever memory surfaces. “We agreed on five grand for my virginity, but it was only… he didn’t…” She bites into her bottom lip, fingernails clawing deep into her forearms. “Not a cent,” she suddenly snaps, cheeks warming from pink to bright red as her voice grows in volume. “And there was never meant to be a fucking recording.”

Inside, I’m rejoicing. Her faltering explanation is the best gift I could have hoped for. Even if my cousin forced his wilting penis into her mouth, she’s otherwise intact.

I’ve never been one of those guys who hankered after purity, not when experience is more expedient, but damn… the idea of me being the first to have her, of slowly pushing inside knowing it’s the first time she’s ever felt a man penetrate her?

That’s gonna make it to the highlight reel, guaranteed.

“Five grand,” I repeat.

“Yeah. What about it?” she demands. “Is this the bit where you say I’m not worth it and tell all your favourite ginger jokes because believe me, I’ve heard all of them.”

“No. This is the bit where I tell you it’d be a privilege to pay ten times that to see your virgin blood smeared along the length of my cock.”

Her expression freezes, then she lunges from the bench, catapulting towards the door.

I grab her from behind, one hand across her mouth, the other clamped around her arms and torso. “Don’t be like that,” I say, laughing as she struggles in my arms. The squirming of her compact body against mine is pure heaven.

Her contortions slow as she tires. There’ll be marks and bruises on me tomorrow from her flailing, but I welcome them. The little vixen can mark me as much as she wants.

“I won’t even ask why you need the five grand, Freckles.”

The tremor in her limbs sends another white-hot rush of blood into my cock, growing harder and harder against the curve of her hip. She still breathes heavily through her nose, but it’s slowing, her inhalations deeper.

She’s listening.

My cousin’s a supreme arsehole who only did this to annoy me. It would be a perfect revenge to show her willing and eager to perform on me when she bailed on him. I can easily picture his forehead creased in irritation while he watches her go to town on my cock.

A cock that will always dwarf his substandard erection.

The thickness in my throat turns my voice ragged as I press my lips to her ear. “We’ll start slowly. If sex really scares you, we’ll stick with oral. Can’t say fairer than that.”

It’s easy to make the offer when I already know she’s desperate.

Five thousand means nothing to me but whatever the purpose, it must mean a lot to her. There were far easier ways to answer my questions than telling me the truth.

If she didn’t need the money, I wouldn’t know her price.

“Sit on the massage table.” It’s against the far wall and I move aside to let her pass, then close in again once she’s complied. “Hands gripping the edge.”

As she obeys, the muscles in her shoulders relax, and another hit of joy lights my brain at her obedience.

Once I wipe Ezra’s tainted fingerprints off her, she’ll be sweet perfection. Her mouth saying no while her body screams yes.

I put my hands on her knees and slowly press them apart, edging my thumbs under her kilt and sliding them up her inner thighs. She’s so tiny, I turn the crank on the table to raise it inches higher, until she’s at the perfect height to cup her hips and pull her spread legs flush against me.

Her knuckles strain, turning white as she grips harder like she’s fighting the instinct to push me away.

There’s a cute ladybug clip pinning back her fringe and I pocket it for a keepsake, then remove the elastic from her bun, dropping it on the table.

Long waves of bright orange cascade over her shoulders and I comb through them with my fingers, untangling the strands and fluffing out her hair until it sits exactly as I pictured a dozen times while falling asleep.

She snags her lower lip with her teeth.

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