31. Hawthorn
With one hand still fisted in my hair and the other gripping the sheets beneath us so tightly her knuckles are white, the sound of my name starts to fade from her lips as her body arches off the bed, the aftershocks of her orgasm ricocheting through her.
She’s fucking beautiful. Totally abandoned, wild and free, and mine, all fucking mine.
I want to make her come again, just so I can watch her lose control, but the need to be buried deep in her, to claim her now that she is truly mine, is so intense it’s almost instinctual. Crawling up her body, I part her thighs wide and slam my cock into her in one long thrust. The heat of her pussy surrounds me, and I’m in heaven or my own personal hell; whichever it is, I’m happy to stay here forever.
Wrapping her legs around my hips, she digs her heels into my back, urging me to move. Pulling back, I slide out, then push back in, groaning at how perfectly my cock fills her.
“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight. It’s mine, Princess, all mine. No one else is ever going to know how it feels to be inside you,” I growl into her ear as I slowly fuck her, catching her thighs with my hands and lifting until she’s forced to uncurl her legs from around me.
Lifting her legs up onto my shoulders, my dick slides in a little deeper, and my eyes roll back as sheer bliss consumes me. Her pants and moans fill the air, and the scent of her sweet arousal surrounds us.
“Arms above your head,” I order, somehow hardening even more when she instantly complies.
Wrapping my hand around both of her wrists, I hold her down, my perfectly willing prisoner beneath me. I fuck her hard and deep until she’s screaming with pleasure, orgasming so hard her pussy clenches onto my dick until it hurts.
I wait for her tremors to settle, then pull out and flip her pliant, lax body onto her front. Lifting her hips, I position her on her knees, then push back into her body again. Gripping her hips tightly enough to leave a mark, I slam into her, filling her ass with my thumb and sating myself in her tight cunt as she mewls and gasps beneath me.
A third orgasm overtakes her, and she rocks forward, a hoarse, pained cry falling from her parted lips. Her cunt pulses around my dick, and I lose control, snarling her name as I follow her over the edge, filling her with my seed on a possessive animalistic growl.
“Fuck, Princess,” I rasp, falling onto her and barely catching myself before I crush her beneath my weight.
A muffled, hysterical giggle comes from where her face is buried in the pillow, and I slide out of her, roll to the side, and pull her to me. “You, okay?”
“I think so.” She giggles. “That was…”
“Fucking hot,” I answer, pressing my lips to her damp skin.
“Yes, that,” she says, her voice shaky.
“I’m obsessed with you, Princess, you’ve turned me into an idiot for you,” I admit, sliding my palm over her breast and pinching her nipple between my finger and thumb as my dick starts to harden against her ass.
A quiet moan comes from her parted lips, and she curves into me, pushing her ass against my cock and her breast into my palm. “Do you need more?” I rasp.
“Yes,” she begs.
Flattening my palm against her stomach, I part her legs with my thigh and slide my dick back into her soaked core. Rocking my hips, I fuck her slow and deep, turning her head so I can kiss her. Swallowing her sounds of pleasure, I rub her clit, feeling the way her body tightens until an orgasm swamps her, crashing over her in waves and dragging my own release from me with a shuddering groan.
“Mine,” I whisper, as I fall asleep with my dick still inside of her.
* * *
I’m dragged from sleep by the shrill ring of my cell phone screaming from the bedside table. Flailing my hand behind me, I eventually find it and answer it as my eyes fall shut again. “Hello?”
“Dude, where are you? It’s nearly lunchtime,” Davis asks, his voice far too loud.
“Asleep,” I yawn, smiling as Princess rolls into me, her messy hair tickling my face.
“You guys need to get over here, there’re photographers at the gate, it’s madness.” He laughs.
“Fuck. Okay, give us thirty minutes and we’ll be there,” I say, rubbing the sleep from my eyes with my fingers.
“Tell Pen to get her devastated game face ready.”
“Yeah, yeah, see you soon,” I growl, ending the call and dropping my cell. Grabbing Penelope, I roll her beneath me, kissing away the sleepy giggles that escape from her lips. “We need to get up.”
“I know, I heard. Do you think Mom and Dad are back from the dead yet?”
Chuckling, I nip at the pulse point on her neck. “I don’t think so, or else we’d be going to Gulliver’s place, not your mom and dad’s house.”
“I need a shower,” she says, tilting her head to the side so I can kiss and lick her neck some more.
“You smell like sex and me. I like it,” I growl playfully.
“So basically, I stink.” She smiles.
“But in a really sexy way.” Her laugh is soft and sexy, and my dick hardens. “I want you,” I rasp.
“You had me twice when we got back and then again when you woke me up in the middle of the night fucking me,” she purrs.
“Best. Night. Ever.”
“We need to get up.” She giggles, pressing a kiss to my lips.
Reluctantly, I pull away and climb out of bed, holding out my hand for her. Naked and mussed, she takes my hand, and I pull her up, grabbing her by the waist and throwing her over my shoulder.
“Hawthorn!” she screams, laughing while I carry her into the shower and make sure that every inch of her beautiful body is squeaky clean.
* * *
Pounding my fist on the car’s horn, I slowly inch forward through the crowd of photographers that have gathered at the Rhodeses’ front gate, while Penelope hides her face in her hands. When the gates have closed behind us, she drops her hands and smirks. “Grief-stricken enough?” she asks.
“Devastated,” I mock with a wink. “But you better keep it up till we’re in the house just in case any of them have a telephoto lens.”
Sliding her huge sunglasses over her eyes, she perfects her heartbroken frown as I pull to a stop behind Kip’s car. Killing the engine, I climb out and circle around to her side of the car, pulling her into my body the moment I reach her. “No giggling till we get through the front door,” I say playfully.
“My parents are lost at sea, what is there to giggle about?” she says with faux seriousness.
Kip opens the door when we hit the first step, his expression stoic as he greets Penelope with a hug and me with a formal handshake. The moment the door is closed behind me, Kip grins and laughs his hyena laugh. “God, Penelope, you’re the picture of a grief-stricken daughter.”
“Thanks,” she says with a grin, kicking off her shoes and padding barefoot toward the kitchen.
Smiling, I watch her go, chuckling softly beneath my breath. Before she broke the will, she would have been in full hair and makeup with a slinky little dress and six-inch heels. Today, she’s gorgeous in black skinny jeans and a soft cashmere jumper, her hair loose in soft waves, and her makeup edgy. She’s still Penelope, only she seems more comfortable in her skin than she’s ever been before.
“Did you see all the press?” Kip laughs, following after my girl.
“Yeah, what the fuck? How many papers picked up the story?”
“All of them, it’s everywhere, along with the pictures of the girls and speculation over why Penelope Rhodes was being comforted by Hawthorn Benedict.”
Stepping into the kitchen, I salute the others who are all sitting around the huge kitchen table. “Morning, guys.”
“We ordered food in if you haven’t eaten,” Izzy says, pointing to the huge platters of food that are lined up on the wooden countertops.
Penelope immediately heads for them, and I can’t help the warmth that fills me at watching her choose to eat. She picks the healthiest thing on offer, grabbing a bowl and filling it with fruit and granola, but the haunted, fearful look is gone, at least for the moment. Crossing to the full coffee pot, I fill a cup for myself and make one for her too, lacing hers with creamer before I join the others at the table and push her cup toward her.
There’s a massive formal dining room at the front of the house or a comfortable family room we could be using, but it’s obvious that the girls don’t enjoy being in the rooms that hold the most memories of their parents, so we’re using the kitchen as our base because neither of them have ever really spent any time in here.
“Right, now that we’re all here, let’s decide what to do next,” Gulliver says. “The story about your parents being missing is everywhere, every major media outlet has the story as at least a minor feature piece, with a few sites that cover society stuff having it as their main headline. Obviously, you’ve seen all the photographers outside, so I think it’s time for the girls to make a comment on social media.”
“Agreed,” Kip says, his ever-present iPad in his hands. “I’ve drafted up a simple statement, saying that the girls are devastated at the news of their parents being missing and that they ask for privacy while they wait for further news. Then there’s a similar one for the rest of us to post, that says we’re all doing what we can to support the girls and ask for distance and understanding from the media while they try to deal with everything that’s happening.”
“Then what?” Princess asks.
“Then nothing. At least not yet. We have the pre-surgery photos ready to drop the moment your parents re-emerge fit and well, and about three thousand people are planning to turn up here the day after tomorrow for a free house clearance,” he says with a laugh.
“My investigator says your parents are still in Marrakesh, he’ll notify us the moment they move,” Gulliver assures her.
“This doesn’t feel like enough,” Izzy says.
“This is only the start,” Davis reminds us all. “Once they’re back, we’ll send out invites for the big party where we tell your parents and every family who was on your great-grandfather’s messed-up husband list that Pen is no longer for sale. Then we swoop in and buy their shares in Rhodes Corp. Once we’ve really pissed off and embarrassed your parents, we get your dad fired and release the sex tape of your mom fucking your dad up the ass with a strap-on.”
“What?” Penelope shrieks, coughing, as she chokes on the mouthful of coffee she just drank.
Izzy laughs. “Yep, that’s what was on that pen drive you found in Mom’s safe. Mom dressed as Marilyn Monroe, singing ‘Happy Birthday, Mr. President’ to Dad, then bending him over and pegging him with a huge black dildo.”
“Oh my god,” Princess cries, her face scrunched up in disgust.
“What’s up, Pen? She didn’t teach you that way to bring a guy to his knees?” Gulliver taunts with a smirk.
“Oh god, I’m imagining it,” she yells, cringing.
“Think yourself lucky you didn’t see it, because I did,” Izzy groans.
“Eww, I don’t even want to think about seeing it,” she hisses. “Can we really leak that without anyone knowing it came from us?”
“We probably could, yes, but revenge porn is illegal in the state of California, so maybe we’ll just send it to your parents and make them think it’s been leaked to the media, while we sit back and watch them freak out,” Kip says.
“If there was a sex tape on the pen drive in Mom’s safe, what was the sex tape you found in Dad’s safe?” Penelope asks.
“That was your dad fucking multiple prostitutes while your mom played dominatrix, another birthday treat according to the message at the start of the video.” Davis laughs. “Your parents are all kinds of freaky.”
“Gah, shut up, I don’t want to think about them having sex,” Penelope groans, burying her face into my arm and covering her ears with her hands.
“Has anyone come up with anything else we can do? Selling a twenty-thousand-dollar painting for five bucks is good and all, but it’s just money,” Izzy sighs.
“We could put the house up for sale, but if they turn up in the next day or so, they’ll just withdraw it,” Kip suggests.
“We could hide shrimp in the cushions, in a couple of days, it’ll smell like a mix of dirty pussy and fishing trawlers in here,” Davis offers.
Penelope snorts, laughing. “Can we do that? Please?” she begs.
“We could change all the coffee grounds for the laxative ones,” Kip suggests.
“Take the batteries out of all the remote controls, and cut the ass out of all the clothes.” I chuckle.
“We could get all the locks changed,” Penelope suggests.
We spend the next thirty minutes calling out every stupid, juvenile, petty revenge idea we can think of, and then we do them all. We plant shrimp inside every cushion cover, curtain pole, and air conditioning vent. We have a locksmith change the lock on every door, and we remove every battery and destroy every item of clothing we can find. It’s ridiculous, but the six of us laugh like kindergarteners the whole time as we run round the Rhodeses’ house.
Gulliver’s cell chimes loudly, and we all turn to him as he pulls it from his pocket and lifts it to his ear. It’s almost eight in the evening, and we’re all sitting around the table in the kitchen, drinking mugs of the best champagne we could find in Barnaby’s wine cellar after we drilled large holes in every cork and every bottle in his extensive collection. The air might not ruin his entire cellar, but it’ll spoil all the good vintages in there. There’re champagne flutes in the cupboard, but it felt like a bigger fuck you to him to drink his ten thousand dollar bottle of champagne out of coffee mugs. We even took a picture to post to social media once the girls’ parents reappear.
“Hello?” Gulliver answers. His brow furrows and his lips turn down into a scowl as he listens intently to whoever is on the other end of the line. “Okay, thanks,” he says after a moment, ending the call and sliding his cell back into his pocket before turning to Izzy. “Your parents just scheduled their flight home; they’ll be here by lunchtime tomorrow.”
An intense silence fills the room as we all glance around the table, waiting for someone else to speak.
“Should we leave?” Princess asks, looking at me, then turning to Gulliver and Izzy.
“Fuck them. Let’s drink the rest of the champagne, order pizza, and make the house smell like cheese and empty calories,” Izzy says, forcing an obviously fake smile to her lips.
Scoffing lightly, I smile at her and nod. “I agree, let’s stay up late, get drunk, and watch a bunch of movies. We can even order in Indian food, the smell of that lingers for days, then we’ll clear out in the morning before they get here.”
“This was getting boring anyway,” Davis cries.
“We get to really start playing with them once they’re back,” Kip says.
Lifting his mug into the air, Gulliver gestures for us all to follow suit. “Let the games begin.”