Buy Me: The Complete Series (Mistress Auctions #1-3)(68)
“More, Sir. More. Fuck me.”
Her pregnancy hormones have been off the charts, and her body is always ready. When we f*ck, she wants it all, and I let her have what she wants like always.
Moving back up, I press my cock to her opening and thrust hard while I rub her clit. “You know I need the taste of * on my face when I cum.”
“Kiss me,” she says, wanting to taste it too.
I lean over her swollen belly and press my lips to hers, sharing her honey. “Your * is sweeter when you’re pregnant. I think we should keep you this way.” Mandy throws her head back, moaning at my words, and I sit up, rubbing her clit until she starts pulsing around my cock. “That’s it, kitten. Give me everything.”
Her body tenses and she pulls at her cuffs, cumming hard and long. She shouts out my name, and seeing her in all her beauty sends me over the edge. As I cum with her, I can’t help but think about how gorgeous she is right now, round with my child and lost in pleasure. She gets more beautiful with every day that passes, and seeing her like this is pure paradise.
She lies there, trying to catch her breath, and she looks up at me and smiles. “Again, Sir.”
Goddamn, I’m a lucky devil.
His First and Only
His First and Only
Alexa Riley
Ethan James has searched for her since the day they were ripped apart. He's built an empire to prove he's worthy of his first and only. After almost twenty years, he's nearly given up hope. Until he sees her...on his billboard.
Tiffany is the new star of the hottest show in Vegas. Men pile at her feet wanting a taste of her sweetness, but her heart was taken a long time ago. When Ethan comes storming in and literally sweeps her off her feet, will their happily ever after finally begin?
Warning: This book is packed with so much cheesy goodness, it makes Velveeta jealous. This story is guaranteed to melt your heart as well as your panties and leave you in a sticky mess. Enjoy!
For Yukon…
Copyright ? 2016 by Alexa Riley. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected] http://alexariley.com/
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Edited by Aquila Editing
1
Tiffany
“Here's another,” Nora says, slamming down a flower vase so hard on my dressing room vanity, I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter on impact. The sound makes me flinch in anticipation of the worst.
Not waiting for a response, she huffs out of the room, her high heels clicking on the tile floor.
I’m not sure if I’m more annoyed at her or the freaking flowers. My dressing room looks like a damn florist shop. It’s bad enough I have to deal with other girls in the show hating me and wanting my spot as the main attraction, but I also have to deal with entitled rich men thinking they can buy me. Plucking the card from the flowers, I read the message.
Foxy Bow,
Have dinner with me this evening. I’m staying in the high roller suite.
Brent McCloud
I can’t stop the eye roll as I toss the card in the trash. Like I needed to know the man was staying in the high roller suite. Or how about the fact that he couldn’t even be bothered to find out my real name. Because he doesn't care what it is. He wants Foxy Bow. The showgirl who’s flirty, sexy and bubbly. Someone I play on stage. Someone who isn’t me. I’m Tiffany Smith, but no one seems to care who she is. Why would anyone care about a girl who grew up in a trailer park? A girl who lost her heart to the foster boy who lived next door. Who cares about a girl who ran away from home at fourteen years old and spent a few years on the streets? Until I was headlining a show in Vegas, nobody gave a shit about me.
The urge to pick up the vase and throw it across the room is almost more than I can bear. Plopping down in the vanity chair, I refresh my make-up, knowing I have to be onstage in minutes. A stage I used to enjoy being on once upon a time. I worked hard to make myself the main attraction. The money is good, and it’s something to keep my mind busy. But now that I have it all, I seem to become more agitated about it every day.
Maybe because now I have nothing to work for anymore. I have zilch to drive me on or keep me motivated. No, now I just move through the motions with no end goal in sight. It seems like I keep hitting one disappointment after the other.
I was born into a family that never really wanted me, and they made it clear. I’d only ever known a sliver of pure happiness in my life, and it was snatched away from me at such a young age. Who knew your heart could be taken so young? But mine was, and I know it will never return.