Yours Forever

by Bella Winters

  “Touch yourself,” he rasps. “Just for a minute. I want to watch you.”

  This is a new game, a kinky game that I like. I guess me and Kian haven’t had nearly enough time together yet to fully get to know one another and what we like. Things have been so crazy around us, it’s been hard to get some alone time. I can’t wait to find out more, I’m looking forward to learning everything about Kian.

  My fingers stroke down my thighs and back up again. Then I take them to my highly sensitive nub and I gasp out in pleasure as I finally get some relief. Of course I would much rather it be Kian touching me, but having him watch me is fun too.

  “Oh fuck,” I groan, falling into the bed sheets as the pleasure gets me. “Oh, Kian.”

  When I say his name I think the passion must get to him because I can feel him against my butt in a heart beat. His rock hard erection rubs against me, which makes me cry out for him. My body screams, my hips roll, I desperately need to feel him inside of me.

  “Stop teasing me, Kian,” I gasp desperately. “It’s been too long. I can’t take it anymore. You’re driving me crazy.”

  I peer over my shoulder, flicking my hair as I do and I watch him grab himself tightly. He fists himself a couple of times causing a ball to lodge itself into my throat, then he angles himself and pushes in, filling me completely. My fingers are still brushing against my clit so with each trust the intensity in the pressure grows. The pleasure starts off like a hot pool deep in my toes and it rises through me as Kian’s thrusts get harder and more desperate. My knees bang against the bedframe, my free hand has to grab onto the sheets just to keep me upright, but as my head spins violently I just don’t care. It feels too fucking good, this is the best that I’ve felt in a very long time.

  “Holy shit!” I scream as the hot pool spreads through my stomach. “Oh my God, Kian.”

  “You just keep touching yourself,” he says in a shaky tone. “Don’t stop, don’t you stop.”

  I do as he commands as I feel him shudder behind me. My lips wrapped around him earlier has brought him to the brink probably much quicker than he wanted but I don’t mind that at all. I’m very close myself, teetering on the edge actually, and we have all night to do this again.

  No, not all night. All life. We have the rest of our lives for this.

  Finally, the pleasure hits me like a tsunami of waves. It washes over me, it rolls through my body, and the whole time the entire world has shrunk down to just me and Kian. No one else matters, nothing else exists. It’s only me and him and that’s just the way I love it. My heart thunders, my knees buckle, my body shudders and shakes, but Kian holds on to me, keeping me safe and protected the entire time.

  “I love you,” I mutter afterwards as I can feel the pleasure bursting from him. “I love you, Kian. So damn much.”

  It isn’t until we’re lying in one another’s arms afterwards, panting and clinging to one another as if no one else exists in the world that I realize in the heat of the moment that we acted a little irrationally. I didn’t think about it at the time and I’m sure Kian didn’t either. We didn’t use protection.

  I’m sure it’s fine, I think reassuringly to myself as I roll onto one side to gave up at Kian. I’m sure that being reckless once won’t matter. I won’t get pregnant after just one time… surely?

  Epilogue - Tia

  Six Months Later…

  I rub my swollen belly, shaking my head once more at my utter naivety. I didn’t think I’d get pregnant so quick which is why I ignored all the early signs. I put the morning sickness down to the stress of flying back to New Zealand and the stress of moving into Kian’s home. I assumed that the endless tiredness was just me trying desperately to get back into the swing of things, I though I was just gaining a little weight because I was finally happy.

  Now, I know for sure. I can’t deny it anymore with this rock hard round belly, and I think I’m just about getting used to the idea which is a good thing because in three months time, me and Kian will be inviting our baby daughter into the world.

  How is he more adjusted to the idea than me? I think bemusedly. I’m the one carrying the baby and I forget sometimes, but not Kian.

  He’s super excited, and his parents are too. For a while they all hoped that it would be twins, I suppose to replace what’s been lost, but I have to admit I’m glad that it isn’t. One baby is going to be enough to deal with, never mind two. I’m not convinced I have it in me to be a good enough mother to keep just one child alive. I just hope that everything changes when the time comes and it’s just natural to me.

  Ring, ring… Ring, ring…

  I grab my phone and look at the screen, smiling as I see my mom’s name. We get on much better these days, which might well be because I’ve grown up and she’s in a much better place in her life too… or maybe it’s just because we live in different countries. Maybe that’s the only way we can have a good relationship.

  “Hi, Mom, you okay?” I say warmly into the phone.

  “Yes, I’m good. Just about to head out with my friends. Just wanted to check in on you and the baby.”

  By ‘friend’ I think she means date but she’s too embarrassed to tell me. I don’t mind, I’m happy for her to move on now that she’s divorced from Dad. She deserves some happiness in her life. I just hope that this time she’s picked someone wisely and it isn’t another idiotic criminal just to keep her rolling in the money. Me and Kian certainly don’t have a flash lavish lifestyle, but we’re comfortable. That’s all I care about now.

  “Good, thanks.” I rub my belly again, smiling down at my unborn child. “All id going really well.”

  “I have my trip out to see you booked just after your due date.” I roll my eyes as I try to consider how hard that’s going to be. Still, I can’t keep her away from her grandchild, that wouldn’t be fair. “So that will be nice.”

  I hear the door click open and I swing my eyes excitedly around the room. Kian has been off on some job today, all very mysterious, and I can’t wait to find out more about what he’s been doing. I can talk to my mom about how ‘wonderful’ her visit will be some other time.

  “Oh, I have to go, Mom. Kian is home, but I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Yes, yes, U have to go too. I’ll speak to you then.”

  I jump up excitedly and I move towards the door to see Kian. Even now after all this time my heart beats faster and I get butterflies in my stomach every time I see him. He manages to have a powerful affect on me and I don’t think that will ever end.

  “Hey, baby,” I call out. “I can’t wait to hear about your day… oh.” The words fall away from my lips as I see him kneeling in front of the door with an open ring box in his hands. “Oh my goodness.” My hand claps against my mouth in shock. “What is this, Kian?”

  “I love you,” he chuckles, his eyes already filling up with water. “I love you so much that I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to do this.” He breathes a couple of times as if he’s trying to collect himself. “I love you, Tia, and I have done for ages. Maybe even from the very first moment when I met you… even if you were calling me a different name.”

  A tear trickles down my cheek at the memory. When I thought he was Stephen and I chased him out of the club. How crazy our journey has been. It’s just a good job that I have it all recorded in my best selling novel, The Beautiful Disaster.

  “I want you to be my wife, especially now that you’re carrying my baby.” He reaches out to rub my belly. “I want to make you happy, I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy because you deserve it. I was us to be together forever, you know.” He holds the box out to me again. “So what do you say? Will you be my wife?”

  “Yes,” I reply with utter certainty. “Of course I will.”

  He leaps up to push the princess cut diamond ring onto my finger and then he wraps his arms around me to hold me close. As he does the tears roll free, but I’m happy crying. This is the happiest that I’ve ever been in
my whole damn life. Me and Kian, Kian and me, we’re the real deal. Me and him forever more.

  “We might have to get married soon,” I warn him. “Unless you want my mother to visit twice.”

  He groans and rolls his eyes, before laughing at me. “You know what, you’re worth it. I suppose I can put up with her. Just because I love you.”

  I press my lips against his and kiss him softly. “I love you too, Kian. Forever and always. This is just the start of yet another journey and I cannot wait to share it with you.”

  Claimed

  Blurb

  Prince Milos Dobrimil, the royal playboy lives a life of excess and luxury, constantly fulfilling his sexual desires during his escapades into the city. When his father falls ill, eventually dying, Milos is left with his last wishes, to see Milos married and ruling the Kingdom with wealth and pride.

  This request, however, comes as an ultimatum, and Milos is left scrambling to try to save the royal line and still keep his freedom. Thinking he has the ultimate solution, he makes an indecent proposal to a sassy and free-spirited stripper who just may turn his world inside out.

  With love, betrayal, sex, and power, this book will take you for a ride through a modern-day adult fairy tale. As you explore the deeply hidden desires of a girl from the slums and the inner struggle of a boy from another world, the truth will reveal itself in ways that will tantalize your fantastical mind while pulling at your lustful heart.

  Chapter 1: Adriana

  The smell of stale cigarettes and cheap perfume have been permanently stained into my nostrils from working at the club for so long. The client section of the Caspian Cabaret was built for royalty with its large stone archway, red velvet carpets, and stainless-steel counters, but all I ever saw was the shoddy backroom and the glaring red lights pointed at the stage. It was almost time for me to head out there, and I felt jittery. I always did before my first dance of the night.

  I looked down at the gold bodysuit I was struggling to get my ass into. Now I understood why Reg, the owner, always gave me nasty looks when I shoved anything fried into my mouth. I swear, if he had it his way, his girls would be pumped with silicone and live off two carrot sticks and a glass of water a day.

  Every time I start thinking about how much I hate my job, I remind myself that it’s better than the alternative. Being stranded in Prague with no money and no one to call was terrifying to me, regardless of how many days I’d spent backpacking across Europe. Having money in your pocket was always reassuring.

  I had spent years saving up for this trip, hiding my savings from my alcoholic mother and counting down the days until I could jet off, living the free life as a nomad with a savings account. I didn’t realize how meager of a savings account I had until I ended up stranded in Prague with just my backpack and a smile. Smiles don’t go very far under the unforgiving city lights.

  Shaken from my thoughts, I watched as Sveta bounced into the room, happy and carefree as ever. This girl was top notch, and she did not give a damn about anyone. Her tight curves, huge tits, and petite stature made her the focus of almost every man in the audience. She played that charm to her advantage, but on the inside, she was really a stone-cold bitch, which of course was why I loved her.

  Sveta leaned down and kissed my cheek. Her strong perfume wafted through the room. She always made me feel better, especially knowing that this was not the job I ever wanted to have. She plopped two shot glasses down and a bottle of vodka, smiling as she filled up our nightly dose of liquid courage. I only ever took two shots, but it was just the right amount to get me to drop the nerves and move my hips.

  “So, who do you think will pay our bills tonight?” she asked.

  We had this conversation every night.

  “Personally, I’m hoping those Russian guys come back,” I replied. I pulled up the straps on my body suit, adjusted my tits so they would pop, and pulled the g-string up, so I got the jiggle effect. “They liked my giant ass.”

  “I hope those rich Chinese businessmen come back,” Sveta replied, before taking a shot and sucking on a lemon. “I didn’t understand a word they said, and they were obsessed with my tits. They paid me just to jiggle them in their faces.”

  “Nice, or those two Irish boys vacationing on daddy’s credit card,” I replied, laughing. “They liked my English ass. They kept asking me to say things because they thought my accent was fucking hilarious.”

  “Whatever,” Sveta said, pouring another shot. “You’re still waiting for Prince Charming to walk through the door and whisk you away from this place.”

  “Yeah, right,” I said, laughing. “Like Reg would ever let that happen.”

  “Asshole,” we said in unison, clinking our shot glasses and tipping them back.

  Prince Charming. That’s funny. I hadn’t thought about a Prince anything since I was a little girl, back when I’d still been oblivious to the cold hard truth about men. I had given up on the fairy tale dreams a long time ago. Mostly as a result of my mother getting wasted and banging a new guy every night, and the string of creepy “uncles,” as my mother called them, hugging me a bit too long and looking at me with their nauseating stare and greasy palms. Now, I was just determined to make enough money to continue on my way. Sure, I could go back to Liverpool, but there was nothing there for me anymore. I was pretty sure my mother didn’t even realize I was gone.

  Even when I’d been standing completely broke and scared in Prague, auditioning for amateur night at the Caspian seemed like a better idea than calling my mother. So, three shots and two drinks later, my tired ass was shaking it for a bunch of dirty old men, whistling from the audience. Surprising to me, I actually won the contest. Not surprising, the owner, Reg Evers, refused to pay me. He was a bastard of a man with huge muscles and a bald head. He had a knack for covering up his deadly persona with bad jokes and cutesy stripper names. But there I’d been, facing off with him.

  He offered me a job and an apartment. I stood there under the giant stone entryway and considered my two options. I could stay here, dance a little, make some cash, and then be on my way. Or I could walk out into the cold streets of Prague and find myself homeless with a little less pride than when I started. So, I took the job. As I shook Reg’s hand and stared into his cold eyes, I could feel part of me float away into the red lights of the stage.

  In the end, I guess it wasn’t really that bad. I had a crappy apartment, just like in Liverpool, except the rent wasn’t quite as expensive. That might be because I share it with six other girls, but what’s the difference? It was like staying in one of the hostels I visited on my travels, except with a lot more nudity and way more crazy women. On my one night off a week, Sveta and I would hit the city, dancing with each other, shooing off the guys, and laughing until dawn. When you work at a job where you are constantly ogled by dudes, the last thing you wanted to do was pick one up on your night off so they could grope you for free.

  The money I earned was actually pretty decent, despite the amount taken out for rent, and whenever Reg wanted to be an asshole. I probably could have left, but I was afraid I’d find myself just one country over, doing the same thing again, but probably not in an elite place like the Caspian.

  “Okay I’m up,” Sveta said as her music came up.

  “Titties out and only accepting twenties,” we said, as if it was our motto.

  I smiled as I watched Sveta bounce on stage, wearing her g-string, tiny tutu, and a push-up bra.

  Sometimes I wondered why we even wore anything at all out on the stage. The men didn’t let us keep it on for more than a minute after the song started. But, once I got my top off and I heard the roar of the crowd, my nerves would calm. I would pretend, for just five minutes at a time, that I was the most desired woman in the world. Well, at least in Prague. The longer I worked here, the more I realized something strange about myself. Deep down, I liked the rush of the lights, the smell of hot lust from the men waving money at me, and the feeling that I could seduce just about any
one. It was also incredible, feeling the control.

  I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to, even though Reg highly frowned upon turning a client down for a lap dance. But, in reality, if all I wanted to do was dance on stage, I could do it. If I wanted to give a hundred lap dances a night, I could do it. Even if I wanted to let some perv rub his dick all over me, although I wouldn’t, I could do it if I chose. It was all about my control, something I didn’t have growing up in the sleaze house in the junky, run-down part of Liverpool. What am I saying? Every part of Liverpool was junky and run down.

  I took a deep breath and strapped on my six-inch heels, knowing when Sveta was done, I would be called up on stage. Reg liked my long legs and had this weird thing with the eighties. He always dressed me in leotards, cut abnormally high on the hips and incredibly low in the front. He also made me wear huge, flashing translucent heels. But I didn’t care, the men seemed to like it, and it’s not like it stayed on very long. Good thing, too, because this g-string hurt.

  I looked in the mirror and grabbed the eyeliner, going for the deep, sultry look tonight. Dark, thick eyeliner always made my bright blue eyes pop, and out here, they loved the blonde look. So I made sure that I teased my hair extra high with big, bouncing curls. I could see the men’s eyes moving up and down my body when I bounced across the stage. My huge tits, my curls, and their eyes danced in unison. During lap dances, when I spoke in my British accent, the men went absolutely fucking nuts. I didn’t know how many times I got three seconds into a lap dance and watched as the guy busted a nut in his pants. That was fine with me because that meant I did a little work for a whole lot of money, and they would most likely come back the next night and do it all over again.

  I stood up and stretched my ankles, getting ready to twist and turn on the stage. No one wanted a sprained ankle, and no one liked a stripper falling to her doom from the red velvet stage. I climbed the steps to the curtain that opened up out onto the walkway, bending my neck and stretching my legs. Reg poked his head around the outside door and looked at me.