J. S. Bradley
Raped by brother

CHAPTER ONE

Monica Sanderhoff walked barefoot over the springy runners of St. Augustine grass toward the edge of the big yard. She paused in front of the bougainvillea arbor that nearly concealed the presence of the high school wall behind it.

She wore her white bikini. The little triangles of clinging material snugged against the weight of her full tits, holding the ripe balls of flesh high and wide and letting the rubbery bumps of her nipples show plainly.

The panties were molded around her firm, rounded asscheeks and smooth flanks. They were damp from her dip in the Gulf just a few moments ago, and the material dipped into her deep asscrack. It pulled snugly at the lips of her puffy, virginal pussy, and the sensations against her cunt as she walked made the dampness at her crotch increase shamefully.

A sexual throb went through her flat tummy at the thought of what she was about to do, just the way it always happened, and she felt another charge of warm, slippery cunt honey seep from her pussy mouth into the crotchband.

She shivered slightly and stopped in front of the arbor, hugging her breasts in a furtive way. She turned around and shaded her eyes from the afternoon sun, which was over the Gulf now. She held small pruning scissors in her hand, and it should be clear to anyone watching that she'd come to clip some of the bougainvillea blooms.

The stucco wall at the edge of the yard went in a straight line toward the Gulf. It became a nearly solid barrier of thick timbers bolted to treated pilings driven solidly into the beach.

The massive jetty reached nearly two hundred yards into the shallow water. It provided a perch for pelicans and seagulls, a haven for small fish, a barrier to beach erosion, and an effective deterrent to anyone who tried to enter within the limits of her grandfather's estate.

The other side of the large yard was also wailed. The front was walled against the quiet street. There was a gate of iron grillwork across the driveway, but the little guardhouse to the side was unoccupied, now that the lock and the motors that opened the gate were operated by remote control.

The grounds were immaculate and planted with lush islands of palms and tropical exotics. One island made a visual barrier between the street and the entire interior of the Sanderhoff estate.

The straight lines of the stucco walls were cleverly camouflaged by the sinuous borders of the thick tropical growth. The atmosphere of insulation from the outside world was complete – except for the open stretch of beach on the Gulf, where passing boaters could gape and gawk into the private domain of long-retired oil magnate, Galt Sanderhoff.

Monica stood erectly in the slanting rays of the sun. Her smooth skin was tanned to a golden toast. Her auburn hair was sun-bleached and showed hints of coppery highlights.

Her lips were full and sensual, her cheekbones high, her eyes large and of a startling indigo. When she posed in front of the mirror at a certain angle, she looked just like the pictures of her mother, even though Monica was only fifteen and the pictures had been taken eleven years ago, the month before her mother was murdered.

Monica let her eyes scan over the big yard and the big house. She searched the veranda, the perimeter of the building and the triple garage to the side. She searched each window, but she saw no one watching her, keeping guard over her.

Just in case, however, she began clipping blooms from the showy vine and laying them in the grass. When she had entered into the screen of growth far enough to feel hidden, she dropped the pruning scissors into the sandy soil and squirmed fully behind the cover of the dense foliage.

She looked straight up along the massive solidity of the eight-foot wall and felt her heart begin pounding again. A rush of tingling heat swept through her and made the tips of her tits tingle and throb inside her halter.

She felt her pussy lips swell and pulse and grow fatter inside her panties. She could feel the whole length of her silky, virginal pussy tunnel squirm and writhe wetly. She pressed the soft length of her full body against the coolness of the stucco and let out a small moan.

The breathtaking tingles were getting worse and worse. It was as if some dread force had crept into her being and was taking control of her.

It made her do irrational, unheard-of things, such as she was about to do now. It made her feel emotions she knew in some way that her grandfather was quietly in fear of. And she knew the strange, scary, wondrous sensations rippling through her young body were responsible for the way he'd practically tripled the guard over her in the past year.

She wasn't exactly sure why she wasn't allowed away from the estate except to go to school. She had the feeling the restrictions had something to do with the way her mother had been murdered so long ago, but she didn't even know the full story of that, yet.

Whit knew, but he wouldn't tell her. Her brother was a brat. A trouble-making, nineteen-year-old brat. He got to go out alone. He even had his own car to drive around.

One of them took her everywhere. She wasn't allowed to go from the estate with Christine, even – Chester's wife, who did the cooking and cleaning and who had become her surrogate mother over the years.

Always one of the men. Sometimes Whit, but only in the daytime with him, and only after very close questioning by their grandfather, which always made Whit rant around like a brat and back-talk the old man in a way she wouldn't dare do.

The hassle they had to go through to get permission to go to a movie or somewhere just wasn't worth it any more, and she hadn't been out with Whit for a long time.

She'd thought of rebelling and carrying on the way Whit did. But that wasn't her. And she felt it wouldn't do any good anyway – because she was a girl. She knew in her heart that was part of the reason Whit had some freedom and she had none, that it wasn't all just because of the difference in their ages.

She was a girl, all right. The throbbing in her firm breasts and the tingling of her leaking pussy told her that.

The way Burke Hammond looked at her in school told her that, too.

Monica closed her eyes and drew forth an image of him. He had sandy hair, a good build, a tanned, outdoorsy way about him that was clean and good. When he smiled at her and talked to hem she felt as if she would melt all over, and she'd have to change her panties when she got home because of the slippery wetness that leaked from her thrilled pussy.

She moaned softly again and cupped her twat tightly with her hand, feeling it throb and tinge unbearably. Then she heard a soft whistle come over the stucco wall, and her heard pounded like a jackhammer.

She whistled back, softly and furtively, and she nearly leaped onto the arbor, curling her toes around the cypress, strips, climbing it swiftly. Her round buttocks flattened and slid against the wall as she went up and turned and bellied cautiously over the top of the wall, and her full tits nearly spilled from the halter.

She looked down and saw him standing there behind a thick clump of big-leaved seagrapes. He smiled in his handsome way and lifted his arms, urging her over the wall.

Monica scanned the vacant lot first. Louis sometimes cleaned up the vegetative litter, and it would never do to have him see her escaping the estate this way.

There was a waving stand of sea oats at the high tide mark, solitary palms curving gracefully against the Gulf and sky. There were dense clumps of seagrapes, palmettos, sturdy hibiscus shrubs, and feathery Australian pines. There were No Trespassing signs on the fences facing the street to discourage bathers, but they were not totally effective. Her grandfather owned this lot and the one on the other side of the mansion. He'd bought them long ago to keep anyone from building next to him.

Satisfied that the lot was empty, she glanced toward the street. From her high vantage point, she could see Burke's four-wheel pickup nosed into the bushes down the street.

She looked down at him again and smiled back happily. She didn't know why she felt so excited and tingly. Was it Burke Hammond who made her heart flutter and her pussy twitch damply, or was it the forbidden act of sneaking out – to see a boy?

She didn't care any more. She gave a final push and swung a trim leg up and over, feeling her pussy spread wide. With her front to the wall, she began lowering herself. She felt his hands on her thighs, strong and firm, as he helped her down.

Her breasts scraped along the wall, and the nipples burned inside the thin cups. His hands shifted to her asscheeks, and she gasped with the sensation as her weight bore against his open, cupping palms.

A thumb went between her thighs as she wriggled down the wall. It slipped into her deep, soft asscrack and then lodged right under her crotch.

"Ohhhhh, Burke…" she gasped.

"I've got you, Monica – come on, let go, I've got you," he puffed, planting his feet firmly, resting the side of his face against her firm buttock.

Monica glanced down her front. She saw his thumb sticking out from between her thighs like a short prick. She felt the way it pushed the material of her bikini right into the sweet, slippery gap between her pussy lips.

The sensation was unbelievable. She felt her whole belly surge with warmth and squirming. She felt as if she could just squeeze her thighs together tightly around his thumb and wriggle her ass in his hands until something wonderful happened.

She slid down the wall. Her halter caught on a small protrusion of stucco, and she felt it lifting away from the bottoms of her tits.

When the sand gave way under Burke's foot, she came down quickly. His hands slid up over her hips, pulling her bottoms terribly tight around her asscheeks and pussy lips. The halter lifted off her tits and made them spill free, and then his hands were cupping them tightly as they staggered together to keep from falling over.

"It's okay, I've got you now!" he cried softly.

"Gee, I must have slipped or something, Monica, I'm sorry."

She felt his hands against her tits. She felt her naked back against his naked chest. She felt her buttocks snuggled against the front of his body.

"Ohhhhhh, Burke…" she moaned quietly, tipping her head back to look at him.

He was grinning innocently. Her moan made the grin go away. His lips quivered. She felt the beat of his heart suddenly as he looked down over her shoulder and saw where his hands were, how they were filled with her firm, naked tits.

His fingers flexed, squeezing the flesh reflexively. "Monica…" he gasped. "Oh, Monica."

They both looked down. One nipple spiked redly between his fingers and throbbed. She felt a quick thickening through the bulk of his cutoffs and her bikini bottoms, and it swelled into the deep crack of her taut ass.

"Monica…" he gasped again.

"Burke – you're holding… you've got your hands over my tits!" Monica gasped.

"I sure do," he said stupidly.

"Ohhhhhhh, don't… let me go, Burke! Ohhhh…"

He gasped heatedly against the back of her neck and the side of her face, and she could feel him tremble as much as she was, his fingers still squeezing and kneading her heated flesh gently.

"Ohhhhhh, Monica – they feel so good! So firm and full! God, how I've wanted to hold you against me like this, you don't know!"

"Burke, stop – you mustn't! I – ohhhhh, stop squeezing them, Burke, you don't know what you're doing to me!"

"What, Monica? What am I doing to you? Tell me!" he gasped. "Oh, God – if you only knew what the feel of your sweet body is doing to me!"

"I can feel it, Burke!" Monica gasped, moaning when she couldn't help the way her tight, full butt cheeks clenched spasmically around the thickening hump of his cock as he pushed against her back.

"Oh, Monica – honey… I've never felt this way about any girl before, I swear I haven't!" he moaned, holding her tighter and tighter. "The way you look, the sound of your voice – everything about you drives me wild!"

Monica gasped again. She felt dizzy from the force of all the new sensations jolting through her young body. Yet, oddly, she felt a quick streak of jealousy at the thought he might have fondled another girl's tits – or more.

"Are you sure you're not just saying that, Burke?" she gasped.

"Monica, I swear it! Why else would I put up with the silly rules your grandfather has? What other guy would sneak over here and go through all this just to talk to you and be with you for a few minutes? You keep wondering what terrible things would happen to you if we got caught like this. But what about me? What do you think would happen to me? I must be nuts to take this kind of risk, Monica – and I am! I'm nuts about you, honey!"

He kissed the side of her face. He pressed himself tightly against her back and her full, round buttocks, not caring any more if she did feel the swell of his prick in her deep, wonderful asscrack.

Monica was nearly breathless. She let out a long moan of happiness and heat and turned in his arms. She pressed her front against him tightly, letting her tits flatten boldly against his naked, hard chest, letting the hump of his swollen, throbbing cock press against her hot, running cunt.

"Ohhhhhh, Burke!" she cried. "I feel so scary! Hold me, darling – hold me tightly!"

He did. His hands moved all over her back. They slid over her hips and cupped the full, firm cheeks of her ass. He pulled her quivering pussy tightly against his middle until their pelvises ground and slid together erotically.

They swayed together, gasping and clinging. Monica felt the big waxy seagrape leaves under her bare feet. She didn't know how it happened, but they were suddenly lying on the thick carpet of them, still embraced.

Burke lifted her face from the hollow of his shoulder and looked into her indigo eyes. "Monica, I love you," he whispered.

"I – I love you too, Burke."

"I wish… God, I just wish you could get out, away from this place. I wish I were good enough for you."

Monica drew back slightly and looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"You know," he said. "Good enough for your grandfather."

"No, I don't know, Burke," she said. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just a guy, Monica. My father's just a forest ranger off in the Everglades. My parents are divorced, and my mother just runs a dress shop over in Miami. That makes me a nobody, Monica – nobody your grandfather would want to have you associate with. Come on, you know it's that way."

She drew back further, blinking. "Burke, that isn't true!" she cried. "Grampa isn't that way!"

"Sure he is," Burke said darkly. He looked at her. His expression changed. "Honey, you mean you really don't know? My God, it's all over school! I've heard even Whit admits it. You're untouchable. No guy has a chance in hell of getting near you because of him – not unless his old man's another millionaire with a family pedigree ten feet long."

Monica stared at him. She didn't believe it. And then, suddenly, she did. It all made sense to her now – the restrictions, the chaperone whenever she wanted to go anywhere off the estate. She came against Burke with a sudden burst of emotion.

"You're near me, darling!" she cried, pressing her tits boldly against his chest again, lifting her mouth to his, kissing a boy for the first real time in her life.

"Ohhhhh, Monica!" Burke gasped.

His lips parted. She felt the tip of his tongue slide into her mouth. The touch of it was thrilling.

She felt his hands roam over her back and her butt again, and she yielded to him completely, feeling a spark of rebellion inside her as she did.

She gasped and puffed. She didn't resist when his hands slid between their bodies and cupped her tits fully again. Burke drew back and looked down at her, and she felt a surge of modesty rush through her.

"Ohhhhh, don't…" she gasped, flinging her arm over her tits, quickly working at the misplaced halter to cover them up.

"No, don't – don't cover them, Monica!" he cried quickly. "Let me look at you – all of you! Oh, God, you're beautiful!"

He held her ann. He lifted it gently away from her tits. She was on her back. She gasped again and again, watching the expression on his face. The way his eyes moved over her face and lips and breasts and the swell of her bikinied hips was like a warm caress, and she couldn't keep from squirming under his gaze.

"Nobody's ever looked at me like that before, Burke," she whispered, lifting her arms over her head, stretching the lithe, slim length of her half-naked body.

"I feel so damn lucky," he said nearly reverently. He reached forward slowly. His fingertips traced the outline of her firm tit, and she moaned under his touch, feeling her nipple sprout from the end in a red, rubbery nub.

"I – I've never even been kissed before, Burke – not like that!" she gasped. "Oh, I can't believe I'm lying here like this with you looking at my naked tits and feeling them with your fingers and… ohhhhh, Burke!" she shivered, letting out a harsh gasp of shock and delight and surprise.

His head dipped. His mouth opened. His lips became a soft, wet oval around the end of her tit. She felt her throbbing, thrusting nipple be sucked into the warm slipperiness of his mouth.

His tongue flipped and licked at her standing tit, and she panted harshly with sensation. Her spine arched high, making her tit thrust deeper into his mouth.

His hand cupped around the mound and made a cone of it. It felt as if he were eating her alive. Her hands flew to the back of his head to push him away, and then her fingers curled in his hair and pulled his mouth closer.

"Ohhhhh, my God! My God!" she cried, her eyes closing against the sun and the deep green hideaway enfolding them. The sweet, clear tone of a mockingbird came to her through the buzz of sensation in her mind.

She felt his lips pull and tug at her tit end. She felt as if her breast would explode inside his mouth, the way it was swelling and throbbing.

She felt his hand slide down her side, along the pinch of her slim waist, to the side of her full hip. His fingers curled in the material of her bikini bottom, and she felt him tug at the garment.

"No! Ohhhhh, no!" she gasped.

"I want to see all of you, darling! Every sweet, beautiful inch! Everything! I want to kiss you all over and touch you and love you, Monica!"

Her hands flew to her bikini bottoms, and she held them up. Letting him see her tits and fondle them and suck on them was one thing. Letting him see her pussy was something a decent girl just wouldn't do.

"Burke, don't spoil it!" she cried.

"I'm not going to spoil it, honey – I'm going to make it even better, even more beautiful!"

She lifted up on her elbows, gasping, fear widening her eyes. She couldn't keep from staring at the front of his cutoffs. She saw the outline of his stiff, throbbing cock inside them. There was no question about the state he was in.

Even though she'd never seen a cock before, not even Whit's, she knew about fucking. She'd watched a pair of dogs do it one day at school while she was waiting for Chester to come pick her up.

The dog's cock had gotten hard and red and pointed, and he'd pumped it up the bitch's pussy with a lot of growling and jerking and biting, making the bitch howl and snarl with pain.

The sight had left her with a sense of fright and dread and a certainty that fucking wouldn't be much fun at all. The one time she'd tried to slip her finger up her pussy and had felt the sharp stab of pain had convinced her of it.

So, she stared at the hard line of Burke's prick in his cutoffs and saw from the terrible size of it that anything that big trying to fuck up her tight, virginal pussy would make her bellow with pain.

"No, Burke!" she cried again. "Don't take my panties off!"

"I just want to see your pussy, honey," he whispered. "I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life – you all stretched out on the seagrape leaves, naked and beautiful!"

"No, no – you're going to try to fuck me! Burke, don't fuck me. Don't hurt me!"

"No – oh, honey, I wouldn't hurt you for anything!" he gasped, his hand sliding all over her flat tummy. "I just want to see and feel and…"

"Ahhhh, God, Burke!" Monica cried sharply.

Her elbows flew from beneath her. She went flat onto her back. Her tits jiggled and thrust skyward. Her spine arched wildly. Her pussy lifted high into the air, and her thighs trembled open widely when his hand slid under the white, clinging material and his fingers wrapped softly around her wet, puffy cunt.

"Beautiful!" he cried. "God, I just know it's a beautiful pussy!"

Sensation shot through her young body, wild surges of it that made her feel electrocuted. His fingers tangled in the rich coppery-colored tangle of her wet pubes. They massaged the bloated meat of her cunt lips and squeezed slippery, virginal pussy juice from them that smeared over her whole crotch.

She felt the length of one finger slide along her silken gap and ripple over the clitoral bump at the top of her cleft, and she cried out again, feeling her whole body shudder and pulse.

Her asscheeks clamped tightly together, and she could feel the friction of the bikini material rub against her throbbing asshole and add to the sensations she was experiencing.

"Burke!" she gasped. "You're touching my pussy! Ohhhh, don't play with my pussy! Don't fuck me!"

"I won't! I promise I won't, honey! I just want to look and feel… ohhhhh, let me see your pussy too!"

She grabbed his forearm, wanting to pull his thrilling hand from her panties. Her hips pumped up and down. His finger slid along her silken gap, and she could feel the tip of it press all around the wet, trembling mouth of her red cunt.

She couldn't pull his hand out. She didn't have the will to. She didn't want the wonderful sensations to stop. She lay there and twisted and moaned under his fingering and felt a great wave of something building inside her young body.

"Ahhhhh!" she cried shakily.

"Let me look!"

"Yes! Ohhhh, yes, darling – look! But don't fuck me! Ohhhh, don't fuck me and make me hurt!"

He worked feverishly at her bikini bottoms. She lifted her ass and squirmed and helped him shamelessly, and then she felt the cool air fan over her super-heated twat and fan through her damp curls.

"Ahhhh, God! Monica! What a beautiful cunt!" he cried. "I want – honey, I'm going to kiss it!"

She let out a squeal of protest. The sound became wild and quivery. Before she could do anything, he'd dipped his head and opened his mouth and covered her bloated pussy meat with his soft, parted lips.

The top of her head nearly came off. She felt the thrust of his tongue against her wet meat. She remembered the sensation of his tongue tip wriggling inside her mouth and tickling over her lips, and she knew he was doing that to her pussy right now.

He lapped and licked at the silky flesh of her twat. Her juices poured from the virginal hole. Her clit thrust and throbbed from the top of her cleft.

She felt the hot puffs of his breath against her sweltering mound and the way his thumbs pried the bloated pussy lips wide apart. She knew he was staring directly into the pink, quivering maw of her pussy hole, and the knowledge that she was so shamelessly letting him do it made her shake all over.

"Burke! Burke!" she gasped. "I feel – so funny, Burke!"

"Ohhhhh, my sweet, innocent Monica! You haven't been fucked before, I can see your cherry! You haven't even been kissed right before! God, don't you know what's happening to you, darling?"

"No! Ohhhhh, it feels – so funny!"

"You're going to come! Do it, Monica! Come hard!"

"What's – ah!" she cried sharply. "Ahhhhhh, Burke!"

He dipped down again and covered her whole throbbing twat with his sucking, pinching lips. He battered the tip of her clit with his velvety tongue and held her hips high.

Monica's emotions seemed to soar into space. Her body tossed and churned. She felt her pussy mouth shudder incredibly, sending vibrations all along the slippery, satiny sheath of her vagina and into her belly. Clear through her belly and into the tips of her tits and even the tips of her fingers.

"Yaaaaah!" she cried throatily, lifting her pussy high, letting the wild shudders take her and toss her helplessly.

Her cunt tunnel squeezed and pulsed. Juice poured through the ragged little hole of her cherry and flooded over the flapping meat of her spasming cunt lips. She felt him licking the honey away as fast as it flowed.

At first, she thought that was a terribly disgusting thing for him to be doing. But then it seemed right. It seemed that the more juice she let pour forth the happier he would be with her, and she let it all go, holding nothing back.

She couldn't keep from lifting her hands to her throbbing tits and squeezing the swollen balls of firm flesh. She'd never felt them so hard and full before, so big.

Her first orgasm whipped through her with fury, tossing her helplessly. It lasted for an eternity, and yet it didn't last long enough somehow.

"Ahhhhh, my God – my God! What happened, Burke! Ohhhhh, I'm scared! What happened!"

He lifted his head. His lips and nose were shiny with her pussy juice. His eyes were shiny with love and lust and happiness.

"You came, darling?" he said tenderly. "Ohhh, you came hard!"

"You didn't fuck me?"

"No, of course not, honey. I told you I wouldn't. Not until you want me to. Not until you're ready!"

She looked at him for a long moment and trembled again, feeling the turgid pulsings of her pussy lips after the hard orgasm. She felt suddenly at ease with him, trusting and not at all embarrassed by what had happened.

She saw him stand on his knees between her spread legs and reach for his zipper. His fly was swollen with the fullness of the hard prick behind it.

Her heart hammered as she watched him work the zipper out and down over the lump of his cock, and her eyes widened. The full, throbbing length of him came springing free, and she sucked in her breath with a harsh gasp.

"Burke! Don't fuck me!" she cried again.

She stared at his big prick. It wasn't shiny and pointed like that dog's prick. The head was rounded and velvety looking, like a pinkish mushroom.

There was a big eye that held a drop of clear oil in it. The shaft jerked and pulsed upward from his pants, and there were ridges and veins in it.

"Ohhhhh, Monica," he moaned, wrapping his hand around the heavy stalk. "I've got to come too, honey!" he gasped.

He lowered himself toward her. She sucked in her breath again and again. "Don't fuck me, Burke!" she cried.

"Just… rub…" he gasped.

He lay on top of her, pressing her back into the carpet of leaves. His naked chest rested against her tits, flattening them, making sensation sweep through her body again.

Their bellies blended together, and she felt his hips against the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thighs. He moved his hips, and she felt the hot, trembling shaft of his cock fit into the groove of her slippery pussy and press tightly there.

"Ahhhhh, God!" he cried huskily, kissing her mouth fully.

Monica's emotions spun again. She smelled the heady scent of her pussy on his face, tasted her flavor on his lips. She felt the weight of his body against hers, and it was a good, comforting kind of sensation.

But most of all, she felt her quivering pussy lips fold wetly around the throbbing shaft of his cock and hold it tightly as he began to move against her and slide his prick up and down her slippery, silky twat groove.

"Oh, Burke! Oh, you're fucking me! Ohhhhh, it's wonderful!" she gasped, hugging him tightly.

He moaned, kissing her again and again. "Not fucking, honey – not really fucking," he gasped.

She didn't care what it was. She loved it. His prick sizzled back and forth over the nub of her burning clit and made her feel absolutely wild.

"Burke, I'm going to come again! I can feel that big tickling start deep inside my pussy. Ohhhhh, darling – hold me!"

They clung together. She heard him pant and gasp. She lifted her hips high and wriggled under his rubbing prick. She felt the wide, soft head of it slip to her pussy mouth and go partway inside her virginal cunt.

Her tissues stretched. There was a sharp pain. "Ah!" she cried.

Burke moaned and backed away, good to his word, even though it took all the will power he had to keep from plunging his flaming prick into the slippery, silky maw of her sweet cunt and fuck her deep.

"Honey! Baby, I'm going to come!" he gasped suddenly. "Ohhhhh, I can't believe how slippery and warm and sweet your pussy lips are around my cock! God, I'm – ahhhhhhgh!"

He growled in her ear. She felt him tremble and shudder mightily atop her. His hips bore down against hers, and his pock bucked and pulsed wildly against her throbbing clit.

Just as she lifted up and squealed in his ear and came again, her pussy tunnel sucking and squirming and begging for something more than it was getting, she felt the hot, warm spurt of his sperm.

It shot in wads from the tip of his prick. It flowed over her belly and abdomen. It made their bellies slip and slide erotically together, and she wondered what it would have felt like inside her pussy if all that sperm had gone there.

"Ohhhhh," he moaned after a long moment. "Oh, honey – I can't believe how damn lucky I am to be in love with you! Monica, you've got to tell him. You've got to make him understand that you're grown up, now, that you need to be free and in charge of yourself!"

"Tell who, Burke? Sweet Burke," she said, running her hands over his naked back and through his hair, feeling the tickle of his warm sperm running down the sides of her waist from the puddle on her belly.

"Your grandfather, Monica. You've got to make him understand that we love each other and that I can be good for you, even though I'm just a nobody."

"Oh, Burke – you're not a nobody. Not to me! Yes, I'll tell him. I'll do what Whit did, and I'll make him let me out of that luxurious prison."

They hugged tightly and kissed. Monica's heart soared. She'd never felt so happy or at peace in her whole life. Burke was good. He could have raped her just then, and he hadn't. He loved her and didn't want to hurt her, and she knew that now. She knew she could trust him. She knew she would have to make her grandfather see that she'd be all right with Burke.