We climb the stairs, and I can’t help the gasp that escapes me at the top. We step off the staircase into a gorgeous room, full of skylights and broad balconies on either side, the glass doors open to let in fresh air. The ceiling is all wooden beams and hanging plants, intermingled with copper pots and kettles, giving it the air of a cottage hidden in the woods, or maybe a tree-house. The kind of cozy, private place you can go for some privacy, to get away from the real world and back to nature. Even though we’re in the middle of downtown, I feel like we’re the only people in the world right now.

“What is this?” I ask, just as a man in black slacks and shirt appears, holding menus.

“It’s the Treehouse. An exclusive new restaurant just opened a few months ago. Are you hungry?” Declan asks, already accepting a menu from the waiter. The waiter smiles and hands me one as well, listing the specials, each one sounding more mouth-watering than the last.

I wasn’t hungry, didn’t think I’d be able to eat with Declan here watching my every move. But suddenly, food sounds perfect. Or at least, an excuse to prolong this date. Drag every second out as long as possible.

“Why isn’t it more crowded in here?” I ask as we weave through the tables toward one in the corner, a booth of velvet cushions situated right next to a cozy fireplace and close enough to one of the balcony windows that we can feel the breeze. The sun nears the horizon through the glass, and the fairy lights that wrap around the window catch the setting sunlight and throw it across the table in prisms. “This place is amazing. It should be packed.”

“Normally it is,” Declan admits as he takes the seat beside me and nods at the waiter, who vanishes to fetch us something. “I reserved it for us tonight.”

My eyes widen. “What, the whole restaurant?”

“I thought it would be best to have some private time on our first date. Really get to know one another. That’s hard to do in a crowd.”

I swallow hard, flashing a glance at the waiter as he returns with a champagne bottle, a bucket, and two glasses. Clearly, Declan ordered ahead, too. I watch the waiter pop the cork and pour for us, letting Declan sample the champagne first.

“It’s definitely nice to have some peace and quiet in a place like this,” I admit, accepting my glass from the waiter with a smile of thanks. There’s still a nervous flutter in my stomach. I want to be alone with Declan, but at the same time, the idea is terrifying. What could happen if we’re left alone? What will he expect?

What will I be willing to do? For the first time in my life, I’m not sure. “But we aren’t exactly alone alone,” I point out, watching the waiter’s back as he turns to go.

“If we ask Martin to leave us alone, he will,” Declan replies, lifting his voice just loud enough so that Martin waves over his shoulder.

I swallow again, harder this time. The waiter seems so calm, unperturbed. He knows Declan. Has Declan done this before?

I shake my head. No use thinking like that. I haven’t done this before, that’s why it all seems so strange to me. I have to keep that in mind. I study the champagne, take a small sip, and blink at the rich flavors that wash over my tongue. “You must be really rich to reserve an entire restaurant, let alone one like this, just for a single date.”

Declan shrugs, the utter image of nonchalance. “My money isn’t a secret.”

I catch his gaze over the rim of our champagne glasses. “What are your secrets, I wonder.” I meant the comment playfully, but while I smile, Declan just laughs darkly and leans across the table toward me. My breath catches at his sudden proximity, so close, just inches away. I catch his scent, heady and masculine, with a touch of pine, some kind of cologne he’s wearing, faint but appealing. And there’s a hint of mint, too, on his breath. It makes me want to close the gap between us. Kiss him. But I can’t, not yet, not when I still don’t know how this all works. What he’s expecting here.

“Who says I have secrets?” he asks, his voice a low, sexy hum in the air.

“Everyone has secrets,” I counter. Then I lift an eyebrow, grinning. “Especially someone who uses a website like First Time for Sale.”

His brow draws tight for a moment, a crease appearing between his eyes. I blink, thinking I’ve messed everything up, bringing up that strange site, the weird way we met. But then his expression clears, and he grins, his fingertips grazing my hand where it rests on the table. My whole body turns electric at his touch, a live wire waiting to go off. I tense and try to hide it with a smile, but judging by his widening grin, he knows how he affects me. Knows it and enjoys it.

I can feel the reverberation of his touch, his cocky smile, all the way down to my core. My legs clench tight, my pussy aches with want. I can feel myself getting wet. Shit, he’s only barely touched me. I’m in way over my head.

“You have questions, ask me. I’m an open book.”

“Why use that website?” I gesture at him with my free hand. His other hand is still wrapped around mine, and I don’t want to pull away, don’t want to lose his warm touch, the feeling of those strong fingers encircling mine. “I mean, look at you. You could clearly have any woman you wanted.”

He lifts an eyebrow, the cocky smirk still fixed in place. “Thank you for that. But it’s not about any woman. Just a certain kind of woman.”

I lick my lips, which suddenly feel dry. His gaze drops to study my mouth again, the look in his eyes hungry. “Virgins,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper. It feels dirty to admit that. To say it out loud, here in public of all places. Not that there’s anyone around to hear us, but still.

Declan simply lifts his other eyebrow, both raised now, and continues to watch me carefully. He doesn’t seem ashamed at all. Simply curious. “Why are you on the site, Joyce?”

I shake my head, pulling my hand away from his so I can lean back in the booth. “Not for the reason you think.”

“What do I think?” He grins.

I shake my head again, harder. “I didn’t sign up for the money or anything.”

He only watches me. Waiting for me to elaborate.

I clear my throat. “It was just a stupid dare–I was drunk, my friend Vi showed me the site, started making a profile for me… It was a joke. That was all. I wasn’t looking for any kind of…” I take a hasty gulp of champagne to clear my throat. “Arrangement,” I finish, unable to meet his gaze.

“And yet you’re here,” he replies, his voice steady and confident. When I look back up, he’s watching me carefully, something unreadable in his gaze. What does he think of me now? Does he think I’m just desperate for cash or doing this to score some rich guy? Why do other girls go on this site?

For that matter, why am I here? Why did I come on this date, despite the weird as hell circumstances and my own misgivings? Why did it feel dirty and yet strangely hot to say virgin out loud, when in the past it’s always felt like a burden, like something strange for me to still be, at this age?

Why am I so attracted to this man?

“So how does this work?” I ask, swirling my champagne in the flute to avoid meeting his gaze. “Is this date part of it? We meet, we see how the… the bid goes…” I shake my head.

Am I actually considering doing this?

“It’s simple,” Declan replies. His voice is deep, serious. “I win the bid, I get to claim you.”

Finally, I drag my eyes back to his. There’s a fire in his gaze. A hunger. “That’s it?” I ask, my voice wavering. “You get sex, that’s all?”

His foot slides around my calf under the table. Hooks me. His other leg comes to meet it, trapping my leg between his. “Do you want me to take more?” he asks, smirking.

His hand finds mine on the table again, and this time, when I start to lean back, he tightens his grip on my wrist. Not enough to hurt, just enough to ask me to stay. To not pull away.

I freeze in place. Look up at him as he leans toward me, across the table, until our noses almost brush. He’s so close. He’s going to kiss me this time, I can feel it–and I want it. I want him to claim my mouth, brand me as his. My pussy tightens, and my clit feels swollen between my legs, aching with desire. My panties are already wet from his proximity, his touch.

“The only thing you need to do to get the money from the auction is fuck me, Joyce,” he murmurs. Another rush of heat races to my belly when he says that. Fuck me.

For the first time in as long as I can remember, I want to.

“But,” he adds, and it’s killing me how close we are, how I can feel his breath ghost across my lips, but he won’t kiss me, not yet. “There’s no rule that says we can’t keep having fun as long as we’d like.”

It’s too much. The way he makes me feel, the way he acts so confident about all this. The way he knows he’s making me want him, dammit. I have to assert some kind of control. I draw back, just half an inch. It makes my whole body ache to do it, and my pussy tightens again, angry with me for resisting what we both want. Still, I raise an eyebrow and try my best to keep my voice even as I reply, “What makes you think I’d want to keep this up?”

He laughs softly. This close, his laugh is deep, a thunder that I feel in my chest, vibrating through my body where we touch. “Addiction strikes in many ways, Joyce,” he replies, eyes catching mine again. “Would you like me to detail all the things I could do to make you weak for me? All the ways I can make you want me, need me?”

Without realizing it, I’ve started to lean forward. So has he, our lips a mere breath apart now.

“Our waiter hasn’t returned,” I point out, eyes still on his.

“Our waiter is smart enough to know when to leave us alone,” Declan counters, and this close, I can smell him, the heady scent that’s all him, beneath his cologne and his minty breath.

I breathe in deeply, trying to control myself. It doesn’t work. Because an instant later, Declan’s mouth crashes into mine, and I’m lost all over again. He kisses me hard, deep. His hand tightens on mine as he does, and he pulls me toward him, across the table, until we’re both sitting forward. His hand slides up my arm to cup the back of my neck, pulling me deeper into the kiss. His lips part against mine and our tongues entwine. He tightens his grip on my hair, and I reach up to grab his too, pinning his mouth to mine in the kiss.

He pulls away, and I gasp in protest when his mouth leaves mine. But he’s only standing, circling the table, sitting back down beside me in the booth, nothing separating us now. Then his mouth is on mine again, and I’m lost in the kiss, the sensation of his soft lips, hard kisses, rough stubble grazing my cheeks. He pulls me against him, our bodies melding together. Even through his suit, I can feel the hard stretch of his muscles. I run my hand down his chest, enjoying the feeling of his pecs, his abs, his body heat through the fabric of his crisp shirt.

His lips leave mine again, but only to trace along my jawline, down my neck. I arch my back, my head falling back as he kisses his way lower, down my body, his tongue flicking into my clavicle like he’s tasting me. A faint groan escapes my lips, and he tightens his arms around me, even as his hands slide down my back, toward my skirt.

“You are so lovely,” he murmurs into my neck, and I shiver, my nails digging into his back as I pull him tighter against me. “My sweet virgin,” he breathes, and I get wetter just hearing that. The possessive desire in his voice. The way he isn’t afraid to call me what I am.

One of his hands presses the small of my back, pinning me against him, and the other drops to my thigh. Inching up my leg, toward the hem of my skirt. I shiver against him, and he smirks at me, eyes flashing.

“Has anyone ever touched your pussy before, Joyce?”

I lick my lips, nervous. His eyes follow the motion, and I enjoy knowing that, inexperienced as I may be, I have some affect on him, too. I can see that by the growing bulge in his pants, and the way his pupils dilate when they fix on me. “Only me,” I whisper.

His smile widens. I guess that was the right answer. His hand slips under the hem of my skirt, grazes my inner thigh. “I want to feel you. I want to know what I’m buying.”

My breath catches. He says it so simply, so frankly. No shame. And it is sexy as hell. “Touch me,” I breathe, and then his hand is sliding higher, higher. He kisses me again, lips distracting me from his hand, inching up my leg. But when his finger grazes the sensitive spot where my thigh meets my hip, my whole body tenses, and I gasp into his mouth, shocked. It feels so good, his warm hand on my skin, not knowing where he’ll touch next, what he’ll do to me.

He smiles into our kiss, and catches my lower lip between his teeth, biting gently. When he releases me, he leans in to kiss my earlobe, his tongue toying with my earring. “It’s different, isn’t it? Knowing someone else is in control. That I can touch you however I’d like…” He trails his finger across the top of my mound, just grazing the edges of my panties, and I gasp again, despite myself. “If you decide to become my dirty little virgin, Joyce, I’ll make you feel things you never imagined.” His fingers slip under my panties, red-hot against my skin. I arch my back, leaning against him, needing the support because my body feels like it will turn to jelly if he keeps this up.

My clit throbs with desire. I’ve been turned on before, I’ve masturbated and used toys, but it was always at my pace. Which is to say, I teased myself for half a second and then got off as quick as possible. I’ve never felt like this–strung out, teased, led on, without knowing when, or even if, he’ll give me release. He hasn’t even touched my pussy yet–his fingers circle my mound, pressing harder here or there, studying me with those steady gray eyes, watching when I tense, when I react. Soon he’s stroking my mound steadily, and it’s such a light touch, not where I want, and yet still so close, close enough that everything is on fire, that I groan through gritted teeth and arch my back, trying to push his fingers closer to my pussy.

“Touch me already,” I groan, and he smirks, his tongue flicking across my lips, before he kisses me again lightly.

“Your desire is my command, my sexy little virgin.” With that, his hand slides lower, his fingers parting my pussy lips, and gliding along my slit. I gasp and twist in my seat, eyes fluttering closed at the sensation. “You are so wet for me. I love that, Joyce.” He kisses my jawline, my neck, my collarbone. Then, without warning, he pulls his hand away, and I gasp in protest. He can’t be done, not yet.

But he only lifts his fingers to his lips. Inhales deeply, then catches my eyes as he slides his finger, coated in my juices, into his mouth. My eyes widen, and my clit aches even more. Fuck, that’s hot.

But in this pause, my heart starts to beat even faster. What am I doing? I’m so out of my depth here. I’ve never even had sex, never gotten anywhere past kissing with a guy, and now I’m this close to fucking a guy I just met–practically in public, no less. I cast a wild glance around the restaurant, half expecting the waiter to be lingering at a table nearby watching us, or maybe calling the police to come arrest us for public indecency.

But there’s nobody else here. Just us, alone in the corner of this room that feels like it’s set somewhere else, a wild forest away from the city, away from time. Just me and Declan, and his hand tight around my waist, his other hand sliding back between my legs to my pussy again, his fingers spread so they curve around my lips and the heel of his hand rests on my mound.

“Your virgin pussy is so fucking delicious, Joyce,” he murmurs. Then he kisses me, and I can taste what he means, the echo of myself on his lips, mingling with his own particular flavor. A taste I can’t get enough of.

“I can’t wait to drive you wild,” he adds, his fingers circling my clit now, zeroing in. His thumb brushes the very tip of my clit, and I jump in my seat, electrified. On edge with wanting. “I’ll make you crave me,” he whispers into my mouth. “Teach you all the ways I can make you come, again and again… Do you want that, Joyce?”

“Yes,” I breathe, and then his fingers are moving, his thumb circling my clit, pressing a little harder with each revolution, even as his other fingers spread my pussy lips wide again. Slide back and forth along my slit, until they’re coated in my juices. He toys with my entrance, and I buck toward him, wanting him. But suddenly, it’s not enough that he’s touching me—I want to do the same.

I slide my hands down his chest, over his abs, tracing the sharp V-line of his muscles through his shirt toward his lap. I pause halfway there, hesitant, but he rests his free hand on my wrist and guides me to keep moving.

“Don’t worry.” He smirks down at me, watching me touch him tentatively. “I don’t bite. Much,” he adds with a wicked grin.

Then he places my hand directly on top of his cock.

I can feel him through the fabric, thick and larger than I expected. I trace the outline through his pants, not daring to do more.

He’s not having that. “Undo my pants, Joyce.”

Ignoring a sudden flare of nerves, I start to undo his button, fumbling with the unfamiliar shape—I’ve never tried to unbutton someone else’s pants before.

That’s when he stops, his hand freezing, and for a second my hips continue to buck, grinding my pussy against his hand, until he pulls his hand out from my skirt, and I sigh in protest.

“I want to touch you, too,” I murmur, my voice low, disappointed.

But Declan is still smiling at me, those eyes too sharp, too smart. He’s noticed something. My hands still at his pants.

“Joyce,” he says, his voice low, patient. “Have you ever seen a cock before?”

I swallow hard. Dart a glance down at his lap, then back to his face. “Not in person,” I admit shyly.

Gently, he cups his hands around my wrists and pulls them away from his pants. Then, to my surprise, he undoes them himself. Opening the fly, then parting his boxers, until his already hard cock springs free.

God, he’s huge. My eyes widen, taking in his size. The way the veins stand out along the sides, and a bead of precum glistens on the tip. The way the head of his cock bulges a little larger than the shaft around it, and the whole thing curves upward toward me, like it’s straining to reach me of its own volition.

Of course, it is. There’s a reason he’s already so rock-hard.

“You enjoy what you see?”

I nod numbly.

He grins.

To my surprise, Declan lets go of his cock then, his hands drifting back to me, running through my hair. I glance up at him, surprised, and he smiles at me.

“Go ahead,” he says. “Touch my cock.”

I don’t need any more prompting than that. I’m too turned on by the feeling of his hands on me earlier, and the heady scent of him, even stronger now. Not to mention the sight of his magnificent cock.

I wrap my hands around his length. Trail my fingers over his cock, marveling at the way it feels velvety smooth, but hard as a rock underneath that. Strong and soft at once. Fuck, I want to feel him inside me. I want to feel the way he would stretch my pussy, fill me completely.

I lean down, breathe in his scent deeply, and slowly, hesitantly, brush his cock against my cheek.

“That’s right, Joyce,” he murmurs. “Put your mouth on me.”

I turn my head, letting my lips kiss the side of his shaft, and–

A distant bell sound interrupts. “Shit,” Declan swears, shifting beneath me. I sit up, startled, and watch him dig through his pockets until he draws out his phone, which continues to ding, tolling like a church bell.

He taps something that silences the alarm but doesn’t put the phone back into his pocket. He taps on the screen, types something in, eyes narrowed in concentration. After a moment, he sets the phone aside again and runs his hands through his hair, before he locks eyes with me once more and grins. “Where were we?”

“What was that?” I ask, one eyebrow raised, wondering what on earth could be so distracting right now.

He cups the back of my head with one hand, guiding me gently toward his cock once more. “Nothing to worry about,” he says, as I slowly let him draw me back toward his cock. “Someone outbid me on you, but I set up an alert in case that happened. It’s taken care of now.”

I blink, startled, and turn to peek up at him. He has an alarm set for my auction? All to make sure he wins me?

He wasn’t kidding when he said he always gets what he wants.

And I can’t lie, the fact that he’s so determined to have me, that he knows he wants me and is willing to stop at nothing to get me, is pretty fucking hot. Feeling dirty in the best possible way, I shift my face back to him, and trail my tongue up the length of his cock. “That’s it. Now, try licking slower, along each side…”

I obey his directions, licking one side, then the other. At the top, I swirl my tongue across his tip, loving the way he fists my hair, his hips shifting against the bench as he groans faintly.

Even as I start to lick and kiss my way along his shaft, though, my mind drifts. Should we be doing this? He hasn’t won the auction yet. Does this count as sex? How does that website work legally? What happens if we have sex before he wins me? Can I be thrown off the site, not get paid? Could they even do anything to me?

But Declan is tightening his grip on my hair. “Open your mouth, Joyce,” he says as he pulls me down, and I part my lips, letting his cock slide into my mouth, and then I don’t have time to think about the legalities anymore. I’m too focused on this moment, the salty-heavy taste of him, the way his flavor lingers on my tongue and his cock feels so thick in my mouth as I stretch my lips wide around him. I’ve never done this before. I wonder if I’m doing it right. I steal a peek up at him and find his eyes half-closed, fixed on me.

“Fuck, Joyce,” he hisses between clenched teeth, and I love the way his voice sounds, strained and low. “Right there. You’re doing perfect,” he gasps.

I do this to him. I can give him as much pleasure as he gives me. I hum deep in my throat, pleased, and feel his cock jump along my tongue as he tenses. “You like that?” he asks softly. “You like the taste of my cock in your mouth?”

I moan again, throatier this time, so my lips vibrate around him.

“Deeper, Joyce,” he coaxes, then inhales sharply when I widen my mouth and slide forward, swallowing him deeper. I take him into my mouth until I feel the tip of his cock brush the back of my throat. Then I tense, afraid I’m going to gag or mess this up. “Relax,” he says. “Breathe, and let me take control.”

He’s already pulling me back, hand tightening around my hair to control my speed. The message is implicit: Trust me. After all, he knows what he’s doing. And he’s into me because I don’t, not yet.

He’s got to teach me.

I relax, letting him guide my head along his cock. Together, we move in sync, and I draw back and forth along him, loving the feeling of his velvet-smooth cock gliding along my tongue, reaching my throat before I pull back, letting him slide all the way to my lips, almost out of my mouth, before I lean in and swallow him whole again.

“Use your hands,” he murmurs as I start to move faster. “Play with my balls.” I don’t need him to tell me twice. I can’t get enough of him. The feel, the taste. I reach up to cup his balls with one hand, my other hand sliding up and under his shirt, my fingers splayed wide, palm pressed against his taught muscles. I reach up, past his chest, to find his nipple, and roll it between my fingers.

He groans, and that’s all the encouragement I need to move faster, his cock thrusting in and out of my mouth, his hips bucking beneath me, his hand still fisted through my hair.

“Fuck, Joyce, right there,” he gasps. “Perfect, my little virgin, perfect.”

Eventually, his breath starts to come faster, and his cock tenses between my lips. I press my tongue against the vein that runs along the underside of his shaft.

“I’m going to come,” he hisses between clenched teeth.

I trail my tongue along him, circling my tongue around his head every time I pull back, and letting my tongue trail against the underside every time he thrusts into my mouth. A few more thrusts like that, and both his hands fist hard in my hair, bringing tears to my eyes. The pain is sexy, though, the way he’s so lost in pleasure he needs to pull me in with every ounce of strength he has.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m so close,” he grunts with urgency. “Swallow my cum, Joyce.”

I move faster, and he thrusts into my mouth one last time, deep, reaching my throat, and then I feel his cock jump as he comes, growling deep in his throat as he does. His cum washes over my tongue, coats my mouth, and I lick and suck his cock, swallowing every last drop, loving the taste of him, salty and heady and masculine, just the way he smells.

I’m still licking at his cock, my hand tight around the base, enjoying the way he’s still half-hard, tensing with every touch of my tongue, when he cups my chin gently in his palm. He draws my face up to his until I’m kneeling on the bench beside him.

He kisses me deeply, his tongue sliding into my mouth, exploring. I know he must taste himself on my lips, and that seems to make him even hotter. His hands circle my waist, lifting me, and before I know what’s happening, he’s resting me on my back on the table. His champagne glass falls, shattering on the floor, but neither of us stops, and the waiter doesn’t return, probably having been instructed to ignore any sounds we make in here.

Declan spreads my legs, pushing the table back so I’m spread before him, lying back against the table. He lifts my hips and pulls my skirt down in one shift motion. I gasp, the air of the room cold against my exposed skin. But it only gets colder as he leans in and catches my panties in his teeth, pulling those down next. I shiver when cold air hits my pussy, which is soaking wet now.

“I see you enjoyed that,” he comments, glancing up at me with one eyebrow lifted, grinning, looking hot and confident as hell kneeling between my legs. Then he leans in to nip at my inner thigh, biting and kissing his way up. His stubble brushes against my mound, and he’s so close I can feel his hot breath against my pussy lips… But he only turns his head, slides back to my knee, and starts to kiss and nibble his way up the other thigh instead. I groan faintly in protest and reach down to wind my hands through his hair.

“You’re such a tease,” I murmur.

He glances up at me to smirk. “You’ll regret calling me that soon,” he says, before he purses his lips and blows faintly, cool air gusting across my clit. I shudder, and he takes the opportunity to slide his hands beneath me, squeezing my ass hard. “I’m only just getting started,” he promises.

Then he leans in to lick the crease at my hipbone, and I shudder again, exhaling slowly, trying to hide how much this turns me on, how much I want him. But there’s no hiding that. Declan knows my body better than I do.

He trails his fingers along my lips, spreading me wide before him, while he takes his time, kissing me, his tongue tracing circles around my pussy, around my clit, not quite touching me there yet. His tongue and his fingers are hot, making me forget the cool air of the room. He opens his mouth wide to kiss my pussy and I arch my back, gasping, as his tongue finally dives into me, licking along my slit, tasting me fully.

Fuck. It feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Complete pleasure, hot and fierce, washes through me.

“You taste amazing,” he breathes, before he licks me again, slowly, back to front, lingering along the way until I’m panting with want. I want him to keep doing that. I never want him to stop. “I’m the first person to touch this pussy,” he whispers. Licks me again, slowly. “The first person to taste you.”

A shiver runs through me. “Don’t stop,” I gasp.

His tongue goes flat against me and slowly glides across my clit. The touch is electric, feeling his wet, strong tongue against my clit after so much teasing. I never knew it could feel like this. I buck against the table, my heart pounding as he licks me in slow, lingering strokes.

Then he dips lower, his tongue sliding in once more, this time going deeper. He delves into me, curling his tongue against my inner walls, driving inside me.

Nobody’s ever been inside me before. Nobody has ever done this to me. I moan, eyes shut, hands tightening in Declan’s hair.

He keeps at that for a while, tongue thrusting into and out of me, a hot rush of warmth flooding my body every time his tongue makes contact. Finally, he draws out again and trails back up to my clit, which feels thick with lust now. He circles the head of my clit, tongue toying with me, as his fingers keep my lips spread wide.

“How are you doing, my little virgin?” He pauses to grin up at me.

In response, I clench my hands in his hair hard. “Please, don’t stop.”

I feel one of his fingers along my slit, swirling in the juices there, before he slowly, slowly, pushes that finger inside me.

“God, you are so tight. I love your virgin pussy.”

There’s pressure at first, my pussy aching around him, until he licks my clit again, and I relax, letting him in. His finger curls inside me, stroking my front wall. Slowly, he begins to thrust that finger in and out of me, finding the same rhythm as his tongue, as he continues to lick my clit.

“Fuck,” I gasp.

My hips rise off the table, my hands tightening of their own accord, pulling his face against me as I arch my back. I’m lost in the feeling, the sharp spike of pleasure as his finger dig deep into me, over a particularly sensitive spot. I never thought I had a G-spot. I heard that some women didn’t, but it seems Declan has found it, and he’s relentless. It’s a different kind of pleasure. Deeper, more intense than my clit. I’ve never felt anything like it. The intensity scares me a little.

His finger presses against that spot as his tongue laps at my clit, faster, harder now, and it’s all I can do to hold onto him, panting hard as I rise toward my peak.

“I’m going to come,” I pant, remembering how he told me earlier, and loving the sound of that on my lips.

He pins my hips against the table with his free hand until I can’t move. I can only let him take me wherever he wants. My pleasure is his to command, and oh, how he commands it. His tongue works me in time with his finger, and finally, I’m too close to the edge to resist it any longer. With a cry of pleasure, I come, my whole body shaking against the table as my pussy tightens around Declan’s finger. He doesn’t stop, keeps licking and finger-fucking me, and before long, another peak rises up, out of nowhere, hitting me just as strongly as the first orgasm. My cry turns into a loud scream this time, and somewhere, deep down, I know the waiter heard. But I realize, I don’t even care.

“Your first orgasm.” He smirks at me. “It won’t be your last from me, if I have anything to say about it.”

I’m still shivering as Declan draws his finger out of me. Kisses my pussy once more, his tongue eliciting another jump as it flicks across my sensitive clit. Then he slides up my body, kissing my stomach and my breasts through my shirt, until he reaches my mouth. He lies across me on the table, kissing me hungrily. I lift my legs, wrapping them around his waist, expecting this to be the moment.

I don’t even care that this is semi-public, that it will be my first time with a guy I hardly know, a guy who is bidding on my virginity on a sketchy online website. I just want him inside me. That thick cock of his thrusting into my tight pussy, taking me however he pleases. Making me feel the pleasure he promised.

But instead, Declan kisses me once more, gently, and disentangles my legs from his waist.

He stands up, offers me a hand, and pulls me up off the table. Smooths my skirt back down and pulls me up to stand beside him. I frown at him, but he’s already tidying the table, tucking his cock, which I can see is hard again, back into his pants and grabbing his coat from the back of his chair.

“Why are we stopping?” I ask, frowning, glancing around the restaurant. But it’s not the waiter, he didn’t come back.

“It’s time we be moving on,” he says, without meeting my eye. “I only had the restaurant for an hour.”

I fold my arms across my chest, not moving. Money is no object to him–he’s made that clear. He could extend this reservation if he wanted. “Did you stop because of the auction?”

Declan finally looks up, meets my eye. For a long moment, neither of us says anything. Then he walks toward the stairs. “Come on,” he says. “I’ll drive you home.”

The whole ride home is tense. We don’t speak except when he asks me directions to my place. I think about lying, giving him a fake address–after all, he is still a stranger from the internet, and a weird spot on the internet, no less. But in the end, I’m too tired to fake anymore, so I give him my real address. The ride takes far less time in a car than it did in the bus this morning, so before long we’re pulling up outside, and I linger, turning to face him, trying to raise the questions buzzing through my head.

Was went wrong? Did I break the rules somehow?

Worse, is that all he sees in me? A yet to be completed transaction?

But I can’t find the right words, and anyway, it’s too weird now. Why did I let him do that to me in the middle of a restaurant? It felt amazing, sure, and I loved making him come too. But now…

I shake my head and grab the door handle. Throw it open. But before I leave the car, Declan catches my hand, pulls me back to his side, and kisses me deeply. Fiercely. His lips are possessive, hard against mine. Without thinking, I kiss him back, unable to resist.

We break apart, and his eyes find mine, deep and serious.

“I’ll see you soon,” he murmurs. Only then does he release my hand, and let me climb out of his car, back into my normal apartment and my normal, boring life.