Romance: My First Time With The Tycoon

by Ally Nelson

  “There will be plenty of time for that later, love.”

  I smiled and nodded, wrapping my arms back around his neck. He pushed up my dress and lifted me up, wrapping my legs around his hips. He lifted one hand up to his mouth and sucked two fingers between his lips, pulling them out and sliding his tongue up and down them.

  His wet hand moved down between us, slipping inside of my undershorts and rubbing the palm of his hand against my pussy. I had to bite down on my lip to keep from moaning too loudly. It was pure bliss to feel his hand on me there, grinding and rubbing against me. My entire body was on fire, my thighs beginning to soak themselves as he readied me. He dipped two fingers deep inside of my pussy, his mouth moving to my neck to cover it in affectionate kisses.

  “I’ve never been with a girl like you, Iris. I hope that I don’t hurt you.”

  “No hurt, just pleasure. Oh my lord, the pleasure.”

  I could feel him smiling against my neck, his hand swiftly pulling away my undergarments. He moved his hands to my ass. He pulled my hips tight against his, his hand moving back down between us, this time to position his cock at my pussy entrance. His lips worked their way from my neck to my mouth, his tongue finding its way into my mouth again just as he pushed himself inside of me. I let out a groan of pain as I felt him break through my virgin barrier, my nails digging into his neck.

  “Shhh, I’ve got you, Iris. It won’t hurt for long.”

  I nodded, burying my head into the crook of his neck, letting him kiss and tease my earlobe as he slowly pushed into my pussy deeper. He stayed still, buried deep inside of me for a few minutes, allowing my body to adjust to him. When my body had accepted him and stopped clenching out of pain, he began to slowly thrust in and out of me, pressing me hard against the rock each time he pressed in.

  “Are you alright, Iris?”

  “Mmhmm, please, more. I need more.”

  Malcolm nodded and thrust deeper inside of me, picking up his pace until he found a nice, steady rhythm for the both of us. I was moaning against his neck while he was nibbling on mine. My body was trembling and shaking within his hold, my heels digging into his lower back as I tried to push myself onto him harder. As if animal instinct had taken over my body, I thrust myself into each of his thrusts, riding his cock, moaning and whimpering as he worked me up to the edge of orgasm. I could feel his moans and grunts vibrating against my neck, his cock throbbing inside of me. I could feel it against my inner walls. It only made it that much more exciting. My breath was getting lost between my lips and lungs, my skin covering itself in sweat and goosebumps.

  “I love you, Malcolm. I love you.”

  As the words left my mouth, Malcolm thrust into me harder, taking his mouth off my neck and moving his right hand to the back of my head, pulling my head up to face him.

  “I love you too, Iris. Oh, hell, I love you more than anything in this world.”

  He pulled my head into his, crushing his lips hard against mine, devouring my mouth with need and desire has he pumped himself into me harder and more determined. I moaned against his embrace, feeling my whole body shake as a rush of release moved through my body. I could feel myself clenching around his cock, feeling it throb even harder. I screamed against his lips, feeling his own screams echoing through my mouth and vibrating against my tongue. I could feel him emptying himself inside of me, pounding between my thighs in hard, short strokes, making sure every last drop was wrung from both our bodies before we both collapsed onto the ground, barely able to breathe.

  Chapter Nine

  I lay there, wrapped up in Malcolm’s arms, both of our backs getting covered in desert dust as we enjoyed just being together. Occasionally, he would kiss my forehead and pull me tighter against his side.

  “Malcolm, can I ask you somethin’ and you not get mad?”

  “Of course, my sweets.”

  “What happened between you and my daddy?”

  “Oh, you want to know that?”

  “Yes please.”

  “Well, what did your daddy tell you?”

  “Nothing except you were wanted by the law.”

  “Alright, I’ll tell you. But no hating on your daddy. He was only doing what he thought was best.”

  I just nodded, waiting for him to tell me the story.

  “Well, he surprised me in town, found my home and noticed there was no horses around. I tried to lie and say I had just sold my herd and wasn’t going to get new colts till the spring. He wasn’t believing me, and went he went back into town to ask people about me. He came across the wanted poster with my name on it. Listed some of my crimes, was not very good. He came back out to my house and yelled for a good long while, then threatened that if I ever try and contact you in any way, he’d tell the law men where to find me, and ensure I never get out of jail again.”

  “Is that why you wrote Sonya instead of me?”

  “Yes ma’am. I didn’t want your daddy intercepting the letter, or doing something worse. But I had to meet you, had to see the woman who had captured my heart with only a few letters.”

  “I’m glad you did. Being here is wonderful, and being there was awful.

  “Well, there is no going back now.”

  “I only want to go forward with you, Mr. Stenson.”

  Malcolm smiled and kissed my forehead again, sitting up and pulling me with him, helping me up to my feet after that. He brushed as much dirt as he could off of my dress, smiling as he rubbed away the smudge of dirt on my face.

  “I never expected to find such a wonderful bride through the mail service.”

  “Bride?”

  Malcolm smiled and kneeled down on one knee, holding up a ring made of string and grass.

  “I know the ring ain’t much. I’ll get you a prettier one eventually, but . . . Iris, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

  I was blushing and fanning myself. I wasn’t sure if my words were even words—they sounded like strange squeals—but I said yes and tackled him onto the ground, covering his face in small kisses as I said yes over and over and over again. I was so excited to become Mrs. Stenson. I didn’t care if he was a cowboy on the run—he was my cowboy on the run.

  “I want nothing more than to be your wife.”

  His arms were wrapped tightly around me, kissing me one last time before he tossed me up onto the horse. I cringed as I felt a stab of pain from my freshly abused thighs. I wrapped my arms around his waist when he joined me on top of the horse. He yanked the reins and guided the horse to carry on with our journey.

  We didn’t spend much of the journey running. We took our time, letting the horse trot most of the distance, stopping every once and awhile for rest or drinks. We traveled like that all the way to the edge of the country, finding a nice, quiet spot near the ocean that nobody knew existed. Malcolm built a house for us there, and we used the money he had stolen from the bank to buy a few colts, starting up our own horse-breeding ranch just like Malcolm had spoken about in his letters. He taught me to ride a horse with and without a saddle, I taught him to talk with a bit less of a foul mouth—but joined him in his bad words every now and then—and we made love under the stars almost every night.

  It wasn’t a surprise that I became pregnant so quickly after we had gotten together, which had us planning a real wedding so that we could be married before I began to show. That was the part of the fairy tale that I never got to live, though. In planning our wedding, we had no idea who we should and should not trust. I, of course, invited a few of my friends, and my mother, to come see me get married. I knew I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t have my mother there with me. Unfortunately, my mother handed the invitation over to my father, who used his connections across the country to track us down, along with the authorities.

  Daddy was there on my wedding day with a sheriff and three deputies, all armed with pistols, waiting to take Malcolm off to jail for all of his crimes, including robbing the bank of Weston and kidnapping me. I tried to explain
that I was never kidnapped, but nobody would believe me, not even my daddy, who never once looked me in the eye after he had found me. He had officially shunned me, considered me soiled and no good, claimed I was not his daughter and refused to acknowledge me as such any longer. I tried not to be too hurt by it. After all, if being shunned by my daddy meant a life with Malcolm, I’d accept it. Malcolm meant everything to me, and so did the baby growing inside me.

  Regrettably, the world did not see fit for me and Malcolm to remain together, and the law made sure that Malcolm was never seen out of a jail cell ever again. I spent a few months visiting him every day, bringing him gifts and sweet breads, singing and reading to him, telling him how the pregnancy was treating me. Eventually, though, he asked me not to come anymore, told me it was too hard to watch me growing bigger with his child, knowing he’d never be able to hold the baby or me again for the rest of his life. I left that day crying, going to my momma and daddy’s house for comfort. My momma welcomed me with open arms, but Daddy just locked himself in his study, giving me only one choice if I wanted to be part of the family again.

  Epilogue

  It’s been a few years now since I’ve seen or heard of Malcolm Stenson. They had moved him to a jail far away from Weston. They also moved me away from Weston, delivering me to the doorstep of Flint the baker. He accepted my daddy’s proposal of marriage because he knew I was marrying him out of need, not money, and I accepted the proposal because I was five months along and it was the one condition my daddy said I had to follow in order to be considered his daughter again.

  Not that it mattered much. Once Flint and I were married, I never spoke or heard from my daddy again. He stayed in Weston and refused to respond to any of my letters. I supposed he only said he would forgive me in order to save the family’s reputation. I finally understood what he had meant when he said I was no better than my mother. Her stories about my real daddy being a cowboy were true; she had run off with a cowboy while engaged to my daddy, and returned to him heartbroken and pregnant a few months later.

  It made sense why Daddy hated me so much after Momma came clean about that. She did so to gain permission to see her grandson, Malcolm. Yes, I named him after his daddy, because Malcolm will always be a part of my life, and I will always hold him in my heart. Everyone that knew frowned at the idea of me naming him after the bad cowboy that had kidnapped me and held me hostage for months without any word to my family, but my son knew the truth. I told him the story of his daddy every night at bedtime. It wasn’t the type of stories my mother would tell me about my daddy, though. No, I painted this cowboy in the perfect light, spoke of how sweet he was, how he built us a home with his bare hands, how excited he was when he found out that I was pregnant. How he had always hoped that it was a boy, and how proud he’d be of the boy he was.

  My son always enjoyed hearing the stories, and liked the fact that they were our little secret. He knew Flint was very touchy on the subject, especially when my other children were around, but Malcolm always knew if he wanted to know about his daddy, all he had to do was ask me to tell him the story again. For a while, it saddened me that I didn’t have wonderful stories of love and adventure to tell my other children, especially my daughter Marissa, but instead of dwelling on how me and her daddy got together, I decided to support her in finding her own love and adventure, as long as it was a man not wanted by the law, and I told her the only reason for that rule was because I never wanted to see her cry, especially not for seeing a love behind bars as I had. All my children followed that simple rule, and all of them grew up happy, in love and with their own families, and when I see my son Malcolm holding one of his own children, I can see that same shimmer in his deep, leather-brown eyes as his daddy use to have, when he imagined holding our son in his arms.

  Reverse Cowgirl on the Billionaire Cowboy

  By: Erin Walsh

  Reverse Cowgirl on the Billionaire Cowboy

  © Erin Walsh2016 – All rights reserved

  Published by Steamy Reads4U

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return it to the seller and purchase a copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Warning

  This book contains graphic content intended for readers 18+ years old.

  If you are under 18 years old, or are not comfortable with adult content, please close this book now.

  Chapter One

  Nothing in life had been the same since Ruth had become a widow. The crops had mostly died, the animals had gotten ill and fallen one by one, and the emptiness of her heart and home had been overwhelmingly devastating. When William had passed away, Ruth was left with a young baby boy and the increasing debt from her late husband’s creditors. Losing him had been hard, surviving without him had been harder.

  If it hadn’t been for her brother, Dave, she would have most certainly lost everything by now. Dave moved in with her in an attempt to save the farm. Although he managed to keep the banks and creditors away for over a year, he had only gained Ruth some time and now that time was up.

  “I am sick of eating eggs and tomatoes.” Dave dropped his fork to the table as he griped.

  “Shh.” Ruth picked up his fork and spoke softly. “I just got Billy to sleep, you better not wake him. Besides, we are lucky to have food on the table, even if it is only eggs and tomatoes to fill out bellies.”

  “Sister, I did not mean to offend you, times have just been rough and my spirit is low.” He took the fork from her hand and began easting the eggs. “You are right. I am lucky to have food to eat.”

  “It will get better.” She told him. “Maybe the farm will sell soon.”

  “Perhaps.” He took a bite of the sliced tomatoes.

  They both knew that nobody was going to buy the farm anytime soon, at least not with the price they were asking. The price had to cover the bank loans and debt Ruth was responsible for. There had been a drought in the area and everyone was suffering. Hardly anyone had money to pay their own bills, let alone by her farm. On top of that, her farm did not have much to offer except a house that needed work, a barn with a leaking roof, and a field that was in a dire need of rain and labor.

  “I saw something in the newspaper the other day that may be an option.” Dave looked up at her with his blue eyes, so much like hers.

  “What is it? Employment nearby? Are they beginning the railroad?” Ruth knew that her brother was not much of a laborer, but she hoped he would step up to help them out.

  “No, the railroad project will not be starting until spring, but this was something you are qualified for.” He reached in his pocket to pull out the ad.

  Ruth and Dave had not grown up in a farm. Their parents had owned a small grocery shop in town. The shop did not make them rich, but it allowed them the comfort of a nice childhood without the worried her own son would surely know. Still, the two siblings had not learned much skill to gain employment elsewhere. They could stock shelves or use a cash register, but all the shops in town employed their own relatives or friends.

  “Is it a job opening at one of the shops? Is Ms. Jameson hiring now that her daughter is getting married?” Ruth started to get excited at the thought of having a job that could bring in money to her home.

  “No, it is nothing of that sort.�
� He sat the newspaper ad on the table and slid it across the table to her.

  She picked up the ad and looked it over. It had been torn from the paper, a small ripped out square, and then folded to fit in her brother’s pocket. Unfolding the paper, she looked down at the ad and read the printed words.

  SEEKING WIFE

  Young, able, and rich rancher seeking young bride to join him on his ranch in Texas. Rancher is a widower looking to find happiness again. Bride must possess good moral character and be attractive. The rancher will entertain all offers and potential women.

  Ruth dropped the ad and stood up quickly from the table.

  “How could you even think I would be some stranger’s mail order bride?” She was angry with her brother for even suggesting it.

  “Sister, calm down and here me out.” He pointed to her empty seat. “Just sit down and listen.”

  “No!” Her voice got louder. “How dare you?”

  “Ruth, lower your voice before you wake up Billy.” Dave picked up the ad and held it up to her. “The rancher is a very successful and very rich man. He is a widower and needs a bride. His ranch is in Texas and is nothing like this ran down small farm.”

  “How do you know all this?” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at her plotting brother. “The advertisement did not mention all of that information.”