Chapter 20 #2
He was expecting a protest, the polite sort of thing that happened when people volunteered their time or services without compensation, further complicated when corporations were involved.
Instead, Kate laughed without malice and said, “Oh, look at you garnering camera time from the network. Very clever. We’ll pass the offer on, see how it goes.
Now go on, you two, get out of here. The sooner we get filming, the sooner we can get this evacuation done. ”
They got all of ten yards from the pavilion before Laurin had his hand up Candace’s skirt.
“We’ve got six hours!” she reminded him with a playful swat at his hand and a nervous glance around, just to make sure no one was watching.
When he’d insisted on driving the golf cart, she’d assumed it was just a man-being-man thing.
Her dad always drove. Her ex-husband always drove.
Even when she had her bakery and was running a delivery with any of her male employees, if they could legally drive, they drove. It was just a thing she didn’t fight.
But now she was thinking that he’d been planning this moment and didn’t want her to crash the cart.
“And I’m not wasting a minute of it,” he said as he gently coaxed her knees to part.
“Don’t think I’m not onto your little stay the weekend, I’m a tour guide move,” Candace added with a side-eye.
And of course he grinned proudly at that, not even pretending his motive was innocent. “There’s a guest room on maman’s and Vivvy’s side of the house, so Zara can stay there and only Manon will know if you want to just sleep with me.”
“I’ll take a guest room!” Candace squeaked as Laurin shoved her panties aside to dip a finger into her while swiping the pad of his thumb over her clit.
“Yeah, I like the idea of you sneaking into my bedroom, too. I mean, there will not be a single doubt in anyone’s mind about what we’re doing — I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off you, and we’re going to be running off at the most inappropriate times for all the dumbest reasons — but the sneaking in thing is just fun. ”
Candace attempted to protest, but he curled his finger, and the best she could do was brace herself. She anchored her feet into the curve of the floorboard and gripped the frame of the cart, but the only place for her other hand was his thigh.
She gripped.
“Fuuuck,” Laurin groaned. “Higher up, baby. I want you to squeeze my cock like that.”
“You’re driving,” she pointed out even as she crept her hand up, figuring she could just kind of rub.
“I’m going seven miles an hour. Now squeeze, or I’m going to have to either take my hand off the wheel or my finger out of your cunt to show you what I want, and that’s not what you want, is it?”
By the time Laurin stopped the golf cart in front of their cabin, Candace was jellified. Absolutely liquid. “Okay,” she gasped, “we just gotta go get our bags packed and then—”
“No the fuck not,” Laurin growled as he scooped her up off her seat. “If I’m not inside your cunt in fifteen seconds, I’m coming all over your sweater, and then everyone’s gonna lose their shit when we get back.”
Candace’s eyes went wide at that. She fully understood that sex changed people, but my goodness.
Is this what Laurin’s thoughts were always like?
Was this because of the locker room talk discussion?
Was he actually super vulgar in real life, or was he showing her that side of himself he claimed he had to keep tightly wrapped up, and he trusted her enough to let loose?
And why did that make her feel even jellier? She wasn’t supposed to be okay with that kind of talk, right?
“The things I want to do with you when you look at me that way,” Laurin huffed, slamming his mouth over hers before she could figure out how she was looking at him.
He didn’t even go back to the bedrooms, instead crowding Candace into the door once he had it closed behind them, pinning her as he pulled a condom packet from his pocket — which gave Candace a residual panic at the idea of it falling out mid-challenge for, like, Patty to slip and fall on so the network had no choice but to show what the offending scrap was and whose pocket it came from.
He gave it to her to tear open as he undressed quickly, then unzipped her skirt and pulled down her panties.
She rolled the condom onto his cock, already sputtering precum from the tip, before grabbing her sweater to lift it off.
“Wait, stop,” Laurin commanded, and Candace held her hands up as he took a step back. “No, that’s perfect just like that.”
She was still dressed in her shirt and sweater vest, along with her stockings and ballet flats.
She was facing away from the mirror next to the door, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen herself partially dressed like this to know that it was pretty much the least flattering state of undress to be in.
She frowned. “You said you liked my-my boobs. Is it my stomach? Do you not—?”
He silenced her yet again with a rough kiss and two fingers in her pussy. She gasped and squirmed against his palm. Already, her lipstick was smeared all over his lips and chin.
“You’re beautiful. I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t stand anymore, and then I’m gonna make us some lunch, and then I’m gonna take the rest of your clothes off and come all over your tits. But this time? Look at how fucking hot you are.”
He pivoted her so when she was turned, her legs were slightly parted and she was directly in front of that mirror.
Her eyes met his in the reflection, but he kicked her foot out another step, enough to fully part her thighs, and said, “No, look at yourself.”
She did, and it was exactly as bad as she imagined.
She looked sloppy, disorganized. Trashy.
Her make-up was wrecked, her ponytail was lopsided, her stockings were uneven across her thighs, and her sweater was askew.
Even her pubic hair was weird; she hadn’t known they wouldn’t be at a hotel with a pool, so she’d done a rough job of waxing herself, settling for a line about an inch thick because she didn’t want to spend money on a professional job.
This was what she imagined a girl in a bad homemade porno would look like.
But then Laurin said in the gravelliest voice, “Look at how dirty you are. Such a sweet, delectable slut, all for me,” and it dawned on her then.
To Laurin, this was a good thing. And not because he thought she was easy, but because in his eyes, she was a sexual, erotic being who was hungry for him, needy and frustrated and without a care for anything but how quickly he could stuff himself inside her.
And she was all of that. Goodness help her, she was so hot that she pushed back to rub herself on his hard cock and made quiet, desperate pleas for his touch.
“That,” he groaned. “That’s what I want from you. And this right here?” He reached around to tease that strip of blonde curls. “This is so fucking hot.”
“Really?” She glanced back up at him and saw his eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared, his jaw ticking. The intensity running through him left little doubt about his sincerity.
His eyes were darting up and down, though, as he said, “Yeah, I’m gonna want to see my cum dripping from these curls, just like yours is—” But then, in frustration, he rushed out, “I want all your hair to match.”
Candace blinked in surprise, straightened back up. “What?”
“Your hair and this strip. I want them to match. Can you make that happen after the season’s over?
Not this color, either,” he said with a nudge of his nose in her ponytail.
“It’s pretty, and it looks nice on you, but it’s not you.
You’re louder than this. I want your hair to scream.
All of it.” His eyes were darting about again as he said, “Oh, unless it’s not safe down there.
I don’t want you to hurt your clit or anything. ”
“Laurin,” Candace started, trying not to laugh over the insane request.
“Right, yeah, I got sidetracked. Here.”
Without any other warning, he grabbed one of her legs by the knee, lifting it up and causing her to lose her balance.
She caught herself by her palms on either side of the mirror as he slid himself into her, going every bit as deep on his first thrust as he had yesterday.
The night’s workout and then the warm-up in the golf cart had her ready this time, and she was fully prepared to smush her face into the mirror and enjoy the ride.
That wasn’t what Laurin wanted, though. His palm went flat on her breastbone, his thumb and fingers curving around her neck as he lifted her back up and growled, “Watch me fuck you, Candace. Watch how deep your cunt takes my cock. Just sucks it right in. Do you see that?”
With that command, she couldn’t look away.
He didn’t go nearly as hard as he did last night, instead going slow enough he could slide out until only his tip held at her entrance and then pushing back fully.
She watched, hypnotized, as his length vanished each time, sinking so deep she could feel it against her upper wall, but he was careful with her.
And each time he pulled out, the condom was coated in a thick gloss that built up until it ran down to the lip of the latex.
“Laurin,” she whimpered, the sight alone overwhelming.
“You’re stretching so fucking well for me,” he cooed as his pace picked up and the friction between them began to burn. “Such a good, tight slut, aren’t you?”
She nodded, the word slut thrilling her. She did want to be that for Laurin. But she didn’t want to repeat it, and not just because it was so dirty.
She knew what he wanted from her; she knew he was demanding it be more than just some quickies while the camera was turned. He wanted to make a go at something more real, something that went home with them. A relationship. Candace wanted that too.
But he didn’t know what he was asking for. Knowing the mess she was and living it were very different beasts. He’d get exhausted with her and hurt her. And if he was as genuine as she thought he was, he wouldn’t mean to hurt her, and it would kill him when he inevitably did.
“I need to come,” she whined, desperate to get everything she could out of this before she had to end it. “Please, Laurin.”
He didn’t push her to say anything else, instead picking up a rough pace as he commanded her to play with herself.
And then commanding her to watch herself playing with herself.
It was too much. His voice, his touch, his heat, his scent consumed her, while the carnality of seeing her own sex as Laurin claimed it so brutally overwhelmed her.
She saw her own orgasm, her rim suddenly seizing up on his cock, tightening around the base.
When he pulled out, a river flowed down her thighs, soaking into the delicate lace stockings.
Laurin saw it, too. He growled, “Don’t you dare change those while you’re packing.
” He came with a ragged groan as his cock jerked violently in her pulsing core before leaning into her, touching her everywhere possible, giving voice to the moment with a long, deep, satisfied rumble deep in his chest.
He pinned her there a moment longer as they caught their breath. She glanced up and saw the gentlest, laziest, most sated smile on his face.
He caught her looking, murmured, “Je t’aime, bonbon,” then carried her into the kitchen.
He sat her back far enough on the corner of the kitchen table that he could spread her knees over either side and make himself enough space to prepare a cheeseboard right in front of her stretched, sopping pussy.
She was too dopey to protest, especially once he started feeding her bits of cheese, and she decided not to dwell on what he’d just told her, the French being as clear as English to anyone who had worked in a bakery on Valentine’s Day.