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The deep blush spreading on her throat and face suggests otherwise.
"Wait, am I your first boyfriend, Morgan?"
She doesn't miss a beat. "You're not my boyfriend."
Ouch.I rephrase. "Am I the first person to have touched you?"
She looks away.
"Sir?" one of the ushers prompts.
I absentmindedly hand them my invitation, my attention fixed on her as we pass through the doors and enter the crowded hall. "Well?"
"Who cares?"
I do care—very much so, in fact.
I was the first to fuck Jade Montgomery, and Alice Frank, and Petunia Howell, and some more nameless, faceless girls in middle and high school, but all of them had sucked cocks, been fingered, and even had their assholes stretched by the time I got anywhere near them.
We've been raised to encourage it. While our parents partied on the upper floor, and the younger full-fledged Heritage members fucked in the basement of our club, we had the ground floor and the pool house to ourselves, with little to no supervision, plus access to booze, sexy music, and plenty of dark corners. By the time our parents sat us down when we turned eighteen to explain that in the club, it was considered the norm to share and be shared—though no one is pressured into it—we'd already explored the notion many times over.
I can't wrap my head around the fact that the beautiful blonde on my arm hadn't been touched before I made her sit on my face and suck three of my friends' cocks.
"You're mine today, princess. That means when I ask a question, you answer. Tell me."
She sighs. "I wasn't into anyone at my school."
That's an explanation, and yet it isn't. No one waits for their prince charming to flutter their clits. Especially not someone as sexually aware as Morgan.
"Did you blow anyone?"
She shakes her head.
"Did anyone touch your pretty pussy?” Another no. "Your breasts?"
"Oh my god, Camden, stop listing body parts," she hisses with a frustrated grunt. "I didn't evenkissanyone before this summer, okay?"
Jesus, I can't believe it.
It's suddenly imperative that I kiss her, so I do so, slowly, gently, taking my time with those lips of mine.
Mine, mine, mine.
I might not ever let her kiss anyone else.
"What the fuck?"
I grin against her mouth as Morgan goes suddenly stiff and pushes my chest as she recognizes the voice.
She gaspswhen she sees the man standing in front of us, fuming. “Trent,” she says, her gaze flying to mine.
She knows I planned this, like I’ve planned everything else. And she’s not impressed.
Game on.
ChapterForty-Eight
I’m going to murder Camden Hunt, no matter how good he looks in his stupid tux.
