I shake my head.
“I’m sorry,” Jessica says.
“That really fucking sucks,” Marino agrees.
“It’s okay. It made me realize what I sounded like. Going around expecting to be forgiven but not able to forgive. Everything about fucking me all the time. But not anymore.”
I look at them and feel so fucking grateful.
“You guys have taught me so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you, Marino, for buying this house for us.”
“You’re welcome,” he says. “I’ve invested in some other properties as well. Both commercial and residential. Maybe we’ll get accused of being slumlords, but that’s about all anyone could have on us. We’re on the straight and narrow now.”
“Well, mostly,” Jessica says, taking off her clothes and doing that fucking sexy dance of hers. “I still know some filthy moves.”
“Come here, you,” I say, grabbing her arms and pinning them behind her head. “There are a lot of dirty filthy things I want to do to you.”
“Me first,” Marino says, jumping on top of her while I still have her pinned down. “I just know I’m going to be the one to impregnate you.”
I laugh, but I have a feeling he’s probably right. And he deserves it. Because none of us— not to mention our future kid— would be here if he hadn’t pulled us all back together. And I can knock Jessica up the next time around. It’s only fitting that we produce a pair of brothers.
Marino
I’m on top of Jessica, riding her deep and slow while Dante plays with her nipples.
As he takes them into his mouth, I speed up my rhythm, thrusting hard and fast inside her.
“Oh my god,” she moans, moving her hips closer to me because Dante has her arms pinned back. “Marino, you make me feel so good.”
“I’m going to put a baby in you,” I tell her, as she comes on my cock. “I’m going to shoot my cum into your naked pussy.”
I can’t believe that just a few short months ago she walked into The Fun House and changed my life and Dante’s too.
This is going to be another one of those moments I’ll never forget. The moment when I realized that I could have a fucking happily ever after. That the three of us could, together.
I had conquered the obstacles and true love had won out. I had made my own decisions without Dante’s approval or guidance and it had all paid off. And I had been able to keep the people I love in my life.
“Let me get in there,” Dante says. “Please. I need to be inside her too.”
“All right,” I tell him. “It’s only fair that we share everything.”
And I know I’ll be the one to get her pregnant. I’m going to be the best fucking dad. And the best fucking husband.
Suddenly I think of something.
“How are we going to get married?” I ask, and they both just look at me, annoyed that I interrupted the sex to ask such a practical question.
“I’m sure there’s some loophole you can figure out,” Dante says, as he flips Jessica around so that both of us can fill up her pussy with our cocks and shoot our cum inside her. “Why do you always have to think so much? Just enjoy the ride. We’ll get married when the time is right. But right now the time is right for both of us to fuck Jessica, and one of us to knock her up.”
“Is that a marriage proposal?” Jessica asks, turning around to flash us her sexy grin.
“You behave,” I say, slapping her curvy ass. “We’ll propose when we figure out how we can both marry you.”
“That’s like saying when hell freezes over,” she pouts.
“Do you want us to fuck you or not?” I ask.
“Of course,” she says, sticking out her perfect ass and pussy, showing me that they’re mine for the taking.
But I wasn’t trying to change the subject. I know we’ll get married, I just have to figure out how. Just like I said earlier, it’s a new year and a new start. We’ll celebrate tonight and then we’ll get started on some new year’s resolutions.
I want to be a stable presence in Jessica’s life, and Dante’s life, and our kids’ lives, forever, just as Dante always was for me. But first I’m going to listen to my older brother, and enjoy this fucking threesome.
Jessica
The best part of my job is that I no longer have to investigate the guys I’m in love with. I’m free to fuck them to my heart’s content without consequence, now that their jobs don’t involve running a seedy strip joint that’s the target of local lawmakers and authorities. And I plan to do just that in 2017 and beyond.
This new house that Marino bought us is really nice. He already furnished it with this big king bed. I grab onto its ornately decorated wooden headboard as Marino enters me. Then I feel Dante’s cock enter me beside his.
I’m so glad Marino decided to forgive me. And that Dante followed his lead. I don’t know what I’d do without these two strong, handsome men in my life. And in my pussy.
They’ve stretched me as far as I can go, both physically and emotionally. And it feels so fucking right, as they would say. I lean back and let them push themselves all the way inside me, until I’m filled to the brim with both of their cocks.
“Oh my god, you two,” I say, bouncing my pussy back and forth on their cocks. “That feels so fucking good.”
“I’m glad you’re still giving us lap dances of sorts even though it’s no longer part of your job description,” Dante says.
“Let me get even further inside you,” Marino says, pulling my hair a bit as he thrusts himself even further in than I thought was possible. “I need to aim my cum really good so that we can make a baby.”
I relax and feel their two cocks pumping in and out of my pussy.
I can’t believe I’m going to make a baby with them. But that feels fucking right too. Because they’ve taught me to let go and be who I really am. To find love and happiness with two people because I deserve it.
I rock back and forth on both of their cocks as they alternatively pump in and out of me, and then both of them do it at the same time. I can feel both of their cocks getting even harder and fuller. And I’m flooded with every kind of amazing physical and emotional feeling that exists.
“I’m going to come,” I tell them, panting slightly and leaning all the way back into them. “I’m going to come on both of your cocks.”
“That’s the way we like it,” Dante says, grabbing hold of my ass and thrusting even harder. “You’ll always be our VIP room slut, even though we’re going to make you our wife and the mother of our child.”
“I’m coming,” Marino says, as I feel him shoot his cum into me.
He groans as his cock pulses and then Dante’s soon follows.
“I’m coming too,” Dante says. “This feels so fucking good.”
“I love you,” I cry out, as another round of an orgasm hits me. “Marino. Dante. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Dante says, and Marino collapses beside me on the bed, out of breath.
“And so do I,” he says. “I love you.”
Dante soon joins us on my other side and they wrap their arms around me.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to us,” Dante says. “Even though you were supposed to be the worst thing.”
I lay snuggled in the cocoon they’ve jointly made around me, so glad I had to do the undercover assignment that was supposed to advance my career but instead made me the happiest woman in the world. Because I found the love of not just one but two amazing guys. And I’m never going to let either one of them go.
THE END.
Subscribe to Jules’ News and Sizzling Hot Reads
and get a free book exclusive to subscribers
Your Free Book
Join Jules’ News and Sizzling Hot Reads Mailing Lists
and get a free book exclusive to subscribers.
Additionally, you’ll be the first to know of new releases at limited time discount prices, free and special sale boo
ks, exclusive bonus content and giveaways and drawings for Amazon gift cards and other prizes and swag.
Click here to join or type this URL into your browser: http://hyperurl.co/jules
** *
Thank you for reading and for your support.
If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review.
View my entire catalog at my Amazon Author Page
or my website, JulianaConners.com.
Like my Facebook Page or follow me on Twitter for updates and news,
Including giveaways and contests.
Sold as a Domme on Valentine’s Day: A Virgin & Billionaire Romance
Copyright © 2018 by Juliana Conners and Sizzling Hot Reads.
All Rights Reserved.
Chapter 1 – Bianca
February 13
Have you ever had one of those ideas that sounded great in your head — perfect and well thought out, just the thing to give you what you were craving — only to discover your great idea gives you the exact opposite of everything you desired.
Well, I’m currently having one of those moments.
When I thought this afternoon, Hey, I know! To get away from Valentine’s Day and all of its commercialized reminders of how nonexistent my love life is, I’ll go to the ski resort in Aspen! I’ll take a solo trip and enjoy being single! Enjoy not having to see one xoxo, or one pandered holiday-themed anything, in a mountain of snow, it sounded ideal. Like the kind of vacation that would put me far, far away from feeling any lack in my life. And all because of one stupid day.
But, nope. Here I am sitting in the bar, nursing a pink-sugar martini (no, they didn’t just bring it out for the holiday — I drink them regularly) right in the middle of Love Central. Match-Made-In-Heaven Mecca. Even in the dark, neon-edged embrace of the bar, all I can see are couples.
People in love with life and in love with each other, having found the one to spend the rest of their lives with. And love is everywhere my eyes fall. In every combination, like this bar doesn’t just mix drinks in the perfect combination, but they have heart ice cubes, and straws decorated with sickening heart sparkles, too.
I see guys in love with girls; girls in love with other girls, guys in love with other guys. I even see the rarest animal of them all: two men in a loving relationship with one girl. A threesome of the heart, it seems. And not just in the sheets. Not just for the kink.
So sweet, I think, watching them share a plate of olives, meats, and cheeses, but that just makes me realize how much more alone I am. I sigh, halfheartedly. Here those guys can get two Mr. or Mrs. Rights, and I can’t even land one man who can handle what I have to give him.
I take a sip of my cocktail and savor the light pink liquid between my lips, enjoying the bitterness of vodka mixed in with the sugar sweetness of strawberry flavored cream.
Feeling depressed and hating everything about love, I take another sip of my drink. This one’s larger, but I still savor it. Roll it around my tongue before swallowing.
“Great idea, Bianca,” I whisper to myself, staring down into the milky, soft ice, “go to the bar of one of the most sought-after romance destinations in the state to get away from romance!” I mock myself, resting my chin in my hand. “My mother was right. Getting older doesn’t make you smarter. Using your brain does.”
I take another sip of my drink. One that takes me nearer to finishing. Something I regret doing in the next moment, however. A cocky face stares at me through the foggy bottom. My mother was right about that too, I think, already not liking the curve of his lips or eyes, even with the glass distorting them. You don’t find the answers to your problems at the bottom of the glass. You just find more problems.
I lower the glass from my lips and stare at my visitor. A short, bulky guy. Muscular, but soft too. Particularly around his stomach region. I glance at it before meeting his face. A face that’s way too self-assured to be coming anywhere near me. His eyes and mouth are too shiny. Greasy almost, as if he’s eaten too much of the bar’s finger food. Either that or he has a thing for Chapstick. I look at him, sweeping my long, naturally curly hair out of my face. As I do, my bracelets tinkle gently.
“Hi.” My greeting is as fuck-off as I can make it. “Can I help you?”
The guy sits right down next to me as if he owns the place. “No,” he says, sweeping his hair back like he’s the man I’ve been waiting for my entire life, “but maybe I could help you out.” He looks me up and down, taking special care to commit my cup size and cleavage to memory. I’m staring at him staring, and he wisely brings his eyes back to my face.
"I wasn't aware I needed any help."
"Sure you do," he says, licking his lips." I can help you out of that dress, and in to some wild games in my hotel room.” He smiles, whistling at my curves like I’ve never seen them before. “Man, with a body like that, I’m sure you’d be hours of fun, wouldn’t you, girl?”
He dives right into whatever fantasies he’s got, listing a few for me. “Oooh, I could fill my tub with all the silver dollars I brought with me, and you could bathe in it, while I give you a nice clit-fuck with the rim of one.” A pause. Then, “And then I could decorate those firm, tanned tits of yours with some wax. A little leather.” He licks his lips again, actually trying to check out my ass from the side of my seat. “And I could whip that big, curvy ass until it’s red,” he whispers, obviously thinking his idea of a good time is universal, “mark it up really nicely, so you have something else to show off besides your tan.”
I blink and sigh with disinterest and fold my hands together. “That would be a no.”
Greaser Boy looks offended at my complete lack of interest. Not offended enough, unfortunately. My rebuff of him only seems to peak his interest, get him clambering into more of my personal space.
“So you're picky, huh, girl?” He puts his hand on my shoulder, adding, “Well I’ll teach you not to be so picky. After a night with me, you’ll be lapping up everything and anything I serve you.”
I pull his hand off me.
As I expect, this immediately makes Greaser Boy’s brow furrow. His eyes to light up, but not with interest. He’s just realized I don’t find him charming, and he doesn’t like it. But I don’t care.
Men like him have zero concept of what else a woman might want besides being overwhelmed by their sweaty, cock-obsessed ideas of dominance.
“First of all,” I say, putting on my I’m-old-enough-to-be-your-mother voice, “I’m not a girl.”
Predictably, Greaser Boy scowls at my condescending tone.
“I stopped being one of those over 30 years ago, boy.” I roll my empty glass around on the surface, making the ice fill the silence. “And I have no interest in whatever you think I will be lapping up. I have no interest in spending another minute with you.” Carefully, I comb a ringlet behind my ears. “What makes you think I’d want to spend an entire night with you?”
With every word I utter, Greaser Boy gets angrier and more agitated. More and more insulted though it’s not my fault. He’s the idiot who dropped in on the time I was very obviously trying to spend alone.
“And you say you’ll serve me.” My voice jabs at him but at the same time it caresses. “I don’t think you know anything about service.” I gaze down at his gut poignantly. “At least, not when it comes to serving anyone outside of yourself.”
“You bitch,” Greaser Boy snarls, leaping out of the seat he took without asking, “that’s why you don’t have anybody! Nobody wants a stuck-up cunt like you.” He goes to put his hands on me. “I’ll teach you to talk to me that way.”
But before I even have to think about nunchucking him with my leopard-spotted purse sitting next to me, the bartender intervenes. He’s a young guy. Probably no older than 21, but he’s got a presence about him. Strong and intimidating, despite his young and fun-loving appearance.
“Back off, dude. The lady said she wasn’t interested.” He tosses down the rag he’s been using to wipe up spills and points a finger at m
y unwanted admirer. “Get outta here right now, or I’m getting security in here to throw you out.”
For a moment, Greaser Boy looks like he’ll take my bartender guardian angel for a trip across the bar top, but then he seems to think better of it. He stocks off, but not before cursing me out. Muttering some sad and pathetic story about how his ex must be fucking this up for him too, considering she'd fucked everything and everyone else already.
As Greaser Boy stalks off for the bar’s exit, the bartender adds, “And I don’t want to see you hanging around here anymore tonight.” He pauses, raising his voice. “If I do, the next thing you’ll see is the inside of a cop car.”
Greaser Boy just flips him off and pushes his way through the tinted front door. Around me, the bar has gone quiet thanks to the altercation. But now that the disturbance has passed, everyone settles back down. Back into each other’s ooey-gooey gazes.
“Thank you,” I say when my trouble is gone and hopefully not to be seen again. “I didn’t think he would be dumb enough to take it that far.” I smile, watching the bartender’s hands move smoothly, knowledgeably over the dark oak wood surface. He’s picked up his rag again and wipes down the spaces on either side of me.
The bartender meets my eyes. They’re caring and kind. Angelic, practically. “I’d say he had more alcohol than brain cells in him tonight,” he says. “Hopefully a few more die off, and he stays in his room.”
I laugh, grabbing my purse. “Let’s hope so, huh? Thanks for the backup anyway,” I add, slinging my purse over my shoulder. “Hope the rest of the night is a lot calmer for you.”
I know it will be for me, I think, letting my mind wander to the safety and solitude of my room. Got nothing and no one going on. As this thought crosses my mind, I’m not sure if the solitude is everything I want it to be. As exciting as I want it to feel. Well, I’ll just have to make it exciting, I guess. In my head, I begin to put together a small plan for the rest of my night. Not much compared to what all these other lovebirds probably have planned for tonight and tomorrow, but it’s also worlds away from the offer Greaser Boy thought I couldn’t refuse.
Four Billionaires for St. Patrick's Day: An MFMMM Menage Reverse Harem Romance Page 57
