Second Chance Baby Daddy: A Billionaire + Virgin Romance

by Vivien Vale

  “Braden, I—”

  “Couldn’t bear the thought of becoming a kept woman?” He chuckles as I scowl at him. He needs to stop finishing my arguments for me. “You might like it more than you think. Or, if you were interested…we could always go into business together.”

  I blink at him, shocked.

  “And what business would that be?” I ask.

  He takes my hands in his and presses my fingers against his lips.

  “Something exciting,” he teases.

  “With benefits?”

  His lips shift into a lopsided smile. “I can think of a few off the top of my head.”

  His hips start moving against mine again. His cock feels good and sweet and right inside me. His words are making my heart flutter.

  “Still, Braden…a baby…”

  “You’d make a good mom,” he says, running his thumb over my lower lip.

  “You’d make a terrible dad.” I laugh, but even so, my hips are moving with his again.

  “I’d learn,” he promises.

  There’s something so genuine and raw and eager in his eyes as he says it that I can’t help myself.

  I start to daydream.

  Braden kissing my belly while my stomach swells with his child.

  Braden with our baby cradled in his arms.

  Braden driving slow, checking his mirrors and taking nice, easy turns so our little bundle of joy doesn’t wake up from their nap in the back seat.

  “Fuck,” I swear. “Braden…”

  “Yes, darling?”

  “Do it,” I beg, resting my forehead against his lips. “Put a baby in me.”

  “Sweetheart,” he says and smiles as he kisses me. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  The next few seconds spill over into minutes. The minutes might be hours. Before I know it, I’m coming around Braden’s cock, hard and fast and without any restraint.

  Braden fucks me through the orgasm like he was made to wrack my body with pleasure. Like he’s taking out every last ounce of pent up frustration over the last few days and letting it loose on my cunt in the form of orgasm after orgasm after glorious orgasm.

  “Baby,” he breathes in my ear, “I’m close. I’m so fucking close.”

  “Give it to me,” I moan. “Give me your cum. Put it all in me. Fill me up—”

  “I love you, Jenna. I fucking love you.”

  “I love you too, Braden. Now come for me. Come for me. Fucking—”

  He lets loose on me, like the way his car raced past all the others when the afterburner kicked in. One minute we’re fucking, the next we’re flying.

  His cum pours into me, deeper than I’ve ever known. My cunt takes it all like it’s hungry for his seed, like it needs to be filled.

  Like my body want to be bred.

  I drain him. Completely. I take every drop of Braden’s cum inside my pussy, and he grabs my ankles while he gives it to me.

  He takes them in his hands and uses them as leverage to push his cum as deep inside me as my body will allow. He holds them thereafter, like he’s trying to tilt all of his cum directly into my womb.

  “I love you,” he keeps saying, over and over like a mantra. A prayer. “I love you. I love you. I fucking love you.”

  “I love you too.” I half laugh, half sob as he collapses against me.

  I shower him with kisses, more than either of us can count. It’s like I can’t stop. I can’t get enough of the feel of my lips against his skin.

  “There,” he says with a hard, final thrust. “Now you’re mine.”

  “Oh, honey. I was yours a long time ago.”

  “Hours?”

  “Days. At the very least.”

  He doesn’t respond. He just buries his face in my breasts, kissing whatever skin he can find.

  “It might not take, you know,” I remind him. Pregnancy is a weird thing, after all. I don’t want him to get his hopes up if a few weeks from now, it turns out that there’s no little Masterson growing inside me.

  “Hmm,” Braden muses. “Then I guess I’ll just have to try again, won’t I?”

  “How noble of you,” I tease.

  “Incredibly,” he agrees. “I’ll just have to fill my woman up every morning, afternoon, and night until she gives me a son.”

  “Or a daughter.” I giggle as he nibbles on my shoulder.

  “Doesn’t matter. As long they’re ours.”

  My chest heaves as I take a big inhale and exhale it slowly. I feel like my lungs are full of helium. Like if it wasn’t for Braden’s body on top of mine, I might float away entirely.

  “Are you sure we’re not taking things too fast, Braden?” I ask, searching for scraps of reality in this insane, blissed-out state.

  “Jenna, honey, have you met me?” Branden grins down at me. He’s got an incredible smile. This is the brightest I’ve ever seen it shine. “Fast is kind of my M.O.”

  When he kisses me, it feels like campfire burning through the middle of the night.

  Jenna

  I wrap up my little speech to my pupils as their eyes glaze over. I know when to stop. It is also time to call it quits anyway. Our lesson for the day is over. Parents are waiting to pick up their charges.

  “Okay, guys,” I say, and smile brightly. “Time to call it a day. Don’t forget to read over today’s notes. It’s just as important to know how your engine works as it is to drive.”

  Braden teaches them how to drive and I teach them about the mechanics of the engine.

  When we first thought of opening a driving school, I wasn’t sure what my role would be. It was Braden who suggested we incorporate theory with practice. It was he who said knowing about the workings of the engine was just as important as driving. And he was right.

  The students grumble something that could be agreement or something else. It’s too hard to tell. But I don’t care. I know they’re learning.

  Braden gives them a nod and they leave. He walks with them to their parents. I watch like a proud parent. It’s more rewarding to teach than I first thought it would be.

  If someone told me a year ago I’d enjoy teaching students about cars, engines and stuff, I would have told them they were crazy. And yet here I am. Here we are. Braden has taken to his new role like a fish to water.

  I love that about him. He doesn’t just say good-bye to his students; no, he makes sure they’re taken to their parents. Sometimes he exchanges a few words with a mother or a father of one of our students. Obviously one of the reasons we’ve become so successful.

  Our driving school is thriving. We’ve had to create a waiting list, that’s how popular it is.

  When Braden first had the idea, I wasn’t sure at all. But just like with most other things, Braden was pretty convincing.

  I watch him bound back to me. His lips are curled into a devilish smile. He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the office.

  “You do know how exquisitely sexy you look in that black top and tight skirt?”

  His fingers flick my hair off my face. I laugh. I pretend to smack his fingers, which accidentally brush against my breasts on the way back from my hair.

  In return he grabs me harder.

  “You can’t get away from me,” he mutters and locks the door.

  As soon as he turns back to me, he pulls my top off. Then he strides to the blinds to pull them down. Quick as flash, he comes back and unclasps my bra.

  Then his lips lock onto mine. I melt into him, ecstasy gripping me, and I arch against him. Just like the first time we kissed, I fall under his spell. His lips are demanding and his tongue pushes past my lips and starts to duel with mine.

  I don’t hold back. I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. He holds me tight by my hips.

  As I drown in the intensity of his passion, I can’t help but think of my state. There’s a slight hesitation in me. I think about the life growing inside me right now. I can’t believe I’m almost twenty weeks pregnant. I press my belly against Braden, keen on
sharing the experience with him.

  Braden’s lips leave mine. They go down to my breast, where they start sucking. Soon someone else will be demanding access to this. The thought is very strange. I giggle, wondering how Braden will feel about that.

  But his hands, which are exploring my body, distract me. Fingers caress my back and squeeze my ass. I groan and fumble with the button on his pants. I need to free his throbbing cock.

  When I get it undone, I push his pants down onto the floor. With incredible nimbleness, Braden steps out of them. He pushes me backwards toward the desk. His teeth are biting on my nipples. My hands reach for his cock.

  His mouth leaves my breasts and moves up toward my neck. Butterfly-like, he kisses me all over. My pussy is so wet and ready for him I can barely contain myself.

  Without asking, Braden pushes my back onto the table. He stops. I glance at him. His eyes are fixed on my tummy. So far there’s only a little bulge, barely visible. Those who don’t know I’m pregnant can’t see much. Sure, my clothes have become a little tighter, but I don’t have the huge ball sticking out in front yet.

  Gently, softly and full of love, Braden puts both hands on my belly. He smiles. His eyes light up. Briefly I grab onto his hands, and we’re all connected—the baby, him and me. A little family.

  “You okay?” His voice is husky, his eyes full of lust and desire.

  I nod.

  “Fuck me, Braden, please. Fuck me now.”

  His hands move to my pussy, where they’re met with my slick juices.

  I groan and thrust my hip up toward him. I want his cock in me right fucking now. I want to fuck him so bad it hurts.

  His fingers play with my clit and tease me to the point of orgasm. The lips of my pussy are shuddering against his fingers. I don’t want to come, not just yet.

  I pull him toward me. This means he’s partly lying on me. I kiss him again. I demand entry to his mouth and explore it like I’ve never been in it before.

  His cock is pressing against my pussy. We were made for each other. Braden adjusts his position to shove his cock inside me.

  His hands are holding my hips. He slams against me. I can feel his balls hitting my skin. He thrusts deep and hard, in and out.

  I throw my head back in sheer pleasure. His hands leave my hips and grab my breasts. He massages them and keeps thrusting.

  Braden grunts, and I know he must be close to coming. I use my fingers to find my clit as he keeps thrusting in and out. I love his cock inside me and I love when his hands play with my nipples. My pussy is starting to spasm against his cock.

  Since I found out I’m pregnant, fucking Braden has become even more intense. My orgasms are even more extraordinary. It’s beyond words.

  I lift my head to look at him. His muscles are tense. I can feel his passion with each powerful thrust.

  It won’t be much longer before I come. He’s getting close, too. I can feel it.

  He slows down a little. Then he stops. His breathing is hard and fast. His lips find mine. He whispers into my ear. “You still okay?”

  The tenderness is overwhelming, and I almost cry. I nod. I may be pregnant, but I still feel the need to have him come inside me.

  “Do it, Braden. Don’t stop fucking me. I want you to come inside me,” I demand, and thrust my hips to meet him.

  Braden starts again. My fingers now dig into his back. I’m so close to the edge.

  His rhythm is increasing. I feel the orgasm build deep within me. My muscles tense just as he starts to tense up as well. We come together. Shockwave after shockwave of pleasure rips through me. I groan and moan in ecstasy. All of me is tingling with pleasure. Brandon calls out my name as his muscles start to spasm and he empties his hot cum into my pussy.

  The pleasure wave we ride is fucking unbelievable, and as he finishes, he lays down on top of me, gently.

  I kiss him on the neck. He’s breathing heavy and I feel his sweaty chest against mine.

  I wrap my arms around him, overcome with emotions.

  “I love you,” he whispers into my ear.

  “I love you, too,” I whisper back.

  I watch him grab his clothes and put on his pants again. He helps me up and his eyes linger on my little baby bump.

  “You okay, little fella?’

  I laugh. He’s going to be such an awesome father. I can feel it in my gut and heart.

  I pull my clothes back on. Life’s good. No, life’s great. Perfect.

  “Ready?” He holds out his hand and I take it. I smile at him.

  We head out the door together to go for our customary evening drive. I glance out the window before looking at Braden as he manoeuvres the car along the road.

  His skilful fingers are pure poetry in motion. I love watching him drive a car.

  We’ve come a long way. We’ve mellowed a fair bit, and I can’t wait to welcome the newest member of our family into the world. Will it be a wild child like his or her father?

  I smile. It doesn’t matter.

  I turn to Baden. “Do you miss our wild days?”

  He smiles and puts his hand on my thigh.

  “What’re you talking about? Sounds like you’re talking past tense. We’re still living our wild days, and they’re about to get wilder.”

  We both laugh and I grab a hold of his hand to give it a squeeze. Like I said, life’s absolutely perfect.

  Hard Luck

  By Vivien Vale

  Copyright 2017 by Crimson Vixens

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work is intended for adults only.

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  Sienna

  I take a handful of my thick, long golden hair and twist it tight, securing it in place with pins.

  Then I ease on the wig and adjust the glossy black bangs so they sit at the top of my brow. I make sure the part is straight, as if it were made by a knife. I smooth down the hair around my face, moving my head from one side to the other.

  I’m assessing myself, critiquing my reflection.

  My new hair shines under the overhead light of the hotel’s dressing room. The cut hits under my chin, a dramatic frame for my face.

  My gaze moves down, taking in how the soft gold silk dress I’m wearing hugs my hips and falls around my legs, rippling when I move. I look as if I’ve been dipped in honeyed ambrosia.

  The dress has turned my hazel eyes to gold.

  I planned my look this evening especially carefully. I want to walk out of this room onto the casino floor and into my new life as part of Roger’s Inner Sanctum, the elite escort service I’ll be working with from now on, and to exude power and mystery.

  Of course, it’s my bad luck that my debut has to take place in the back rooms of the Alchema, the sleek and elegant hotel and casino owned by none other than Leo fucking Asher.

  Leo’s come a long way from the boy who raced around the grounds of my father’s estate.

  His father worked for us; his mother lost a battle to cancer when he was a toddler. Growing up, Leo and my brother, Jax, would spend their days teasing me and racing around the grounds of our California ranch.

  We grew older.

  Jax went east to boarding school; Leo won a scholarship and followed.

  I stayed behind.

  When the boys came home on holidays, Jax’s teasing turned into sharp jabs at my expense. His friendship with Leo had cooled significantly.

  Maybe it was simply a case of growing older and growing apart, but I don’t know what happened. Jax would get annoyed when I’d ask and Leo would ignore the question completely.

  By the time they went to college, neither one was speaking to the other, so Leo turned his attention to me. He woul
d call me Golden, because of my hair and eyes. We would talk or sit together quietly for hours.

  Then, ten years ago, he left California and transferred to Harvard. He only came home to visit once. It was the summer I turned eighteen.

  Three months before my father had to shutter the mines that made the Reids the prominent family we were.

  Five months before the beginning of the legal wrangling that left my family broke.

  We lost everything.

  Meanwhile, Leo made a name for himself in New York. Opening bars and then clubs, he had the golden touch because every establishment he worked on was a wild success.

  Now, at 30, Leo Asher is a hotel and casino magnate. He not only owns the 55-story Alchema Hotel in Vegas, but the Nocturne in Monaco.

  If I see Leo, I want to be the opposite of the girl he must remember: she was young, gentle, eager, shameless, and curious.

  I try to assure myself that I won’t see him because otherwise I won’t maintain my calm.

  Ten years ago, when I was eighteen and hungry to explore the things he made me feel, Leo ran his finger across my jaw one afternoon.

  I let him see me shudder.

  He called me Golden, and I opened myself to him.

  Gave myself to him.

  Gave him everything.

  The memory quickens my pulse. I can see the flush on my cheeks reflected back to me in the mirror, feel the heat on my skin as it reddens before me.

  My nipples harden under my dress, the fabric feeling suddenly restrictive, invasive, and giving me attention I don’t want because I memories I can’t forget.

  I exhale and try to push the thought of him out of my head, angry that he still has this effect on me after all this time.

  Control is exactly the thing I don’t want to grant him; it is precisely the thing he has over me now.

  I want control of my body, but my reactions leave me as helpless as if his hot breath was between my thighs right now while he looked up at me, searing my soul with that wicked blaze in his eyes from that night.

  “You won’t see him,” I say aloud to remind myself that even if I do see him, he won’t recognize me because I’m disguised.