Virgin Fiancée: A Fake Engagement Romance

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Virgin Fiancée: A Fake Engagement Romance Page 20

by Nikki Chase


  “Especially then,” he says, his vocal cords vibrating against my cheek as he speaks. “I promise I’ll do my best to make you happy, princess.”

  “I’m already happy.”

  “I know. Me, too.”

  Extended Epilogue

  Piper—One and a Half Years Later

  “Rafe? You’re not supposed to be here,” I whisper in the dark, half-asleep.

  “Are you scared we’d get into trouble?” Raphael whispers back as he gets into bed. The mattress dips under his weight.

  I can’t believe he’s doing this, but I have to laugh. “What? We’re not kids, Rafe.”

  “Obviously,” he says, wrapping his arms around me from behind. He moves one hand up to my tits, while his other one travels down to my thighs. “No kid would have a body like this.”

  “Rafe, I’m serious.” My voice sounds unconvincing, even to myself. “You really should…” My sentence hangs in the air as I bite my bottom lip, trying to stifle a moan. Raphael is kissing the back of my neck, and it's starting to feel really good. I’m starting to want him to stay, too.

  “What, what should I do, princess? Tell me.” He pinches my nipple through the thin cotton of my old shirt, while rubbing my clit over my panties.

  “You should leave,” I sigh, even as my fingers dig into his arms, not letting go. The moonlight streams through the slats of the bamboo blinds and hits the stone of my engagement ring just right, making it shine.

  It's a warm night, and I'm always dressed light for sleep on a night like this. I’m only wearing an old shirt and panties.

  After one year of living together, Raphael knows this. He also know exactly how to get me into the mood. I squirm as he teases me with light kisses all over my neck and shoulders.

  “Why? Nobody's stopping us,” Raphael says.

  “That's because nobody knows you're here,” I manage to say between hitched gasps.

  “You don't think they'd just find it adorable that we still can't keep our hands off each other?”

  “That's not the point.” I moan, revealing my true desires. “It's bad luck.”

  “But you're mine. These are mine,” he says as he grabs my tits and my pussy to make his point. “Nobody is going to keep me away from you.”

  “But you’re not supposed to see me tonight.”

  “No, that's where you're wrong. I'm not supposed to see you in your dress. But you're not in your dress, are you?” Raphael slips his hand into my panties and run his fingers along my wet folds.

  Damn it. Now he knows how wet I’m already getting. He's not going to leave me alone now.

  Don't get me wrong; I love how much Raphael still lusts after me. That flame in his eyes still ignites for me, and it makes me feel wanted, craved, desired--makes me feel like a woman.

  But we're getting married tomorrow. Does he really need to do this now?

  “Shit,” Raphael curses.

  “Huh? What’s wrong?”

  “Your shirt. It’s pretty long, princess. I’d say it could be mistaken for a dress,” he says. “We should get it off you before we get cursed with bad luck.” Raphael pulls my shirt up and caresses my tits.

  Without even thinking, I arch my back, pushing my tits forward into his big hands and pressing my hips against him. Against his thick, hot, rock-hard cock.

  I’m a goner.

  I lift my hands up and let Raphael take my shirt off all the way, sighing and moaning, no longer trying to hide or deny my arousal. I gasp when he pushes two fingers inside me, removing my panties with his other hand.

  “You like that, princess?”

  “Yeah,” I say. There's no stopping this now. I'm already naked and wet, yearning to be filled up by the cock poking into my ass.

  “Yeah, I can feel your pussy grabbing onto my fingers.” He rubs my clit as he continues to pump in and out of me.

  It sounds wet. I hope nobody happens to pass by the door and hear these obscene noises.

  “You ready for my cock, princess?” Raphael asks as he thrusts his cock forward, making me wish he’s already inside me. His fingers are no longer enough.

  “Y—yeah,” I moan.

  “I know. I can tell,” he whispers as he nibbles on my ear lobe. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”

  Raphael pulls out his fingers, making me whimper. It suddenly feels so empty inside me.

  He quickly yanks off his own clothes and gets back behind me. His skin feels hot and smooth, his body hard and unyielding.

  “Fuck me, Rafe,” I moan, knowing how much he loves it when I lose control and beg him. “Please.”

  “Of course I’ll fuck you. This hard-on isn't going to go away on its own,” he says as he pushes his cock against my opening. Damn, he’s really hard.

  I stick my ass back to give him a deeper angle. He slides all the way in, then he slaps my ass cheek and grabs it.

  “You're so fucking sexy, princess. I can't believe I’ll get to fuck you for the rest of my life. I can't believe this is all mine.”

  I want to tell him I feel just as lucky, because he’s responsible for many earth-shattering moments in my life. But instead, I grip the bed sheets and bite my bottom lip, unable to do anything but hold on. My body is already starting to tremble from the arousal building up within me.

  So I reach one hand behind me and grab his ass. My nails dig into his perky cheek as I pull him close, wordlessly begging him to fuck me harder.

  He obliges. He puts one hand over my waist and pulls me onto him.

  “Come for me, princess,” Raphael growls into my ear as he pulls me by the hair.. “Cream yourself all over my cock.”

  I cry out when he starts to play with my clit, sending me over the edge. Electricity crackles throughout my body. Sparks snap at the tips of my fingers and toes. The charge in my core grows as Raphael fucks me with abandon, doing me hard and fast. I feel him grow slightly harder, and we both explode together.

  My whole body quivers in Raphael's arms. I throw my head back onto his bare, brawny chest. He continues to pump into me a few times, until he has shot every last drop inside me.

  “Aren't you glad you let me stay?” Raphael asks, teasing me.

  “Yeah,” I say, as if I ever stood a chance against him. I’ve never been any good at telling him no. I add, “That was amazing, Rafe.”

  “I’d better leave before someone finds us,” Raph grins. He plants a chaste kiss on my temple, even as his cock remains buried inside me. “Tomorrow, you’ll be my wife. And then nobody would be able to keep us apart again. No man, woman, or silly superstition.”

  He leaves just as quickly as he entered.

  I lie alone on the bed, naked. It's like he was never here, like he was just a figment of my imagination. The only evidence of him ever being here is the warm liquid dripping out of me.

  Déjà vu.

  I feel like I’ve seen this scene before, a million times, in my mind.

  Sunshine filters through the stained glass windows of the church, casting splotches of color on the old wooden floor. I see yellow, red, and green on the aisle.

  I hold on to Dad’s arm as we make our way toward the altar, the train of my white lace dress dragging over the floor.

  Dad and I are getting along so much better, now that he's gotten his act together. He's too scared of losing the house again to half-ass his job now.

  I like this new, improved Dad. I just wish Mom were alive to see him. She would've wanted to be here, too, to see me get married to the love of my life.

  I swallow to push down the lump in my throat. I can’t cry now, not with so many eyes on me.

  I look up to see Raphael—my rock.

  He's standing tall beside the minister, giving me his usual wicked grin. He looks impatient, but I can't walk any faster with the slow tempo of the old church organ, not to mention the high heels.

  Eventually, I reach the end of the aisle. I thank my dad and let go of his arm.

  The corners of my lips curl up to form a big s
mile as I put both my hands on Raphael's.

  Knowing him, he must be uncomfortable in his three-piece suit, but he doesn't seem to care. He's got his eyes on me and he's no longer paying attention to his surroundings.

  The priest speaks with a thick French accent.

  I'm not going to complain, though. It's hard enough to find a church that looks photogenic enough to suit Raphael's family’s tastes and whose priest could conduct a wedding ceremony in English.

  Luckily, Diana’s wedding planner managed to find everything on their checklist. She's a godsend; somehow she has managed to wrangle all eighty of our guests into various private and commercial flights to Paris, and herd them into their rooms at the mansion.

  Marie has also been amazing at accommodating everyone. She seems excited about hosting such a big event, and I’m sure Elise and Diana have given her a long checklist to go through, as well.

  As for me, I only have one thing on my checklist: the man standing in front of me, the one staring at me with love and devotion.

  He repeats the words the minister says, but they mean so much more coming from his mouth.

  “I, Raphael Holt, take you, Piper Ford, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.”

  Tears already prick my eyes as I listen to Raphael's vows.

  I guess it's acceptable to cry in public on my own wedding day, but I was hoping I’d be able to maintain my composure.

  Now, I know I should abandon all hope. My voice is cracking already as I begin to repeat the traditional vows.

  “I, Piper Ford, take you, Raphael Holt, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse…”

  I try to speed through the words before I start tearing up, but I can't hold it back anymore. My vision blurs and, the next thing I know, tears are streaming down my face.

  I pause for a few seconds while I find my voice, before I pick up where I left off.

  “...for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.”

  I look up into Raphael's brilliant green eyes for strength, and find complete acceptance there. He doesn't care if I’m crying or if my make-up is running. All that matters is we’ll always be together from today onward.

  “You may now kiss the bride,” the minister says.

  Raphael lifts my veil and whispers, “Hey, it's been a while since I last saw you.”

  I giggle, remembering how he slipped into my room last night. I hope we'll always be this playful and happy around each other. I hope we'll never get enough of each other.

  In front of all our loved ones, we seal our union as Raphael kisses my smile.

  Life will never get boring with him by my side.

  Thank you for reading!

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  Preview: His Virgin

  A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

  Chapter 1

  Caine

  “Hey! There’s a line here!” shouts a man somewhere behind me.

  He sounds angry, but I don’t give a fuck. The Chief of Medicine himself said we’d always get the priority here, so that guy can go to another hospital if he wants.

  I guarantee, though, that there’s no place in the world where everyone is treated equally. That’s just a hippie pipe dream.

  Hey, I don’t make the rules. I just happen to be good at this game called life, and I’ll admit there were also quite a few lucky rolls of the dice.

  So there are benefits to being a Foster. You can hardly blame a man for taking advantage of all the privileges he’s been given, especially at a time like this.

  A young nurse behind the laminate counter fixes her green eyes on me like she’s ready to chew me out. “Sir, I’ll have to ask you to go back to the end of the—”

  “Listen,” I say calmly, cutting her off. “Maybe you’re new and you have no idea how things work around here, so I’m going to let that attitude slide. You’re going to do exactly as I say or you’re going to lose your job. Understand?”

  She looks bewildered, her pretty green eyes big as saucers. No doubt her training hasn’t prepared her for this. To her credit, she shuts up and gives me a small nod.

  There’s a hint of defiance in the way she clenches her jaw. She’s indignant, but she doesn’t want to get fired. Smart girl.

  Under normal circumstances, I’d crush every little sign of impudence in her. She looks exactly like the kind of girl I’d enjoy doing that to. But this is not the time.

  “Daisy,” I say as I glance at the name tag on her chest. “Get someone who’s in charge and tell them Robert Foster needs immediate attention. Repeat the name for me so I know you understand me.”

  “Robert Foster,” she says with a pair of furrowed brows over her angry eyes. She’s not happy about being treated like an imbecile, but I need to know she’s going to relay the correct message. My father needs immediate medical attention; who cares if her feelings get hurt?

  “Good girl. Now go,” I say.

  I’d love to watch her walk away. The baby-blue scrubs she’s wearing don’t cling to her body, but I can just make out some little indications of the tantalizing curves underneath. I’m sure I could get a better idea if I took a better look.

  I have more important things to do, though. I turn around to see the automatic glass doors of the main entrance part to let Pop into the lobby of St. Peter’s Hospital. Some guy from the office has managed to find a wheelchair for him.

  Pop is clutching his chest. He looks like he’s in pain. His breaths are labored, his whole body covered in a layer of cold sweat.

  Seeing him in that condition makes me want to shout at somebody to fix him right away, or at least give him something to get rid of the pain. The man seems weak; it just looks wrong.

  “Mr. Foster?” A voice from behind the counter calls me. A man’s voice this time, alert and ready to jump into action. When I turn around, I see him already taking big strides around the counter to approach me.

  Good. This is the kind of urgency I expect from one of the biggest recipients of our corporate charity program.

  “My father needs help.” I put one hand on the back of the man in scrubs and lead him toward the wheelchair. I have no idea who he is, but he knows who we are and that’s all that matters.

  He rushes toward Pop, a couple of younger men in scrubs following behind him.

  I watch from the sidelines as the men do what they do best. This is the best damn hospital in San Francisco, and this is exactly why we’re so generous toward them—for times like this.

  I take deep breaths and follow the men down the hallway. Depressing fluorescent lighting and the smell of disinfectants fill my senses. My muscles slacken a little, knowing Pop is in good hands, even as my heart continues beating faster than usual.

  I ball my hands into fists. If it weren’t for them, my father wouldn’t be in this condition.

  Fucking cops.

  Chapter 2

  Daisy

  “Are you okay?” Katie touches my arm softly, but it’s enough to make me jump in surprise. She gives me a mischi
evous grin when I turn to look at her. “I love when I accidentally manage to prank you. I wasn’t even trying.”

  I shoot her a dirty look. I’m not in the mood for any of her shenanigans today.

  Don’t get me wrong, I love how fun Katie is. That’s why we hang out a lot since we were in nursing school together, and also why we decided to get an apartment together.

  Turns out she sucks as a roommate; she’s messy, loud, and makes a habit of bringing home a carousel of men into her room—a different one every weekend.

  But she’s my best friend, and my surrogate family. The only family I have, other than Jack.

  “What happened? You look like you want to stab those potatoes to death.” Katie drops her plastic tray on the table and pulls out the chair across from me, the metal legs dragging noisily against the linoleum floor. She ignores the annoyed stares of other hospital workers around us in the cafeteria.

  “An asshole happened,” I say curtly as I impale another piece of potato with my fork and put it in my mouth.

  “Oh, that’s right. I heard you met Caine Foster.”

  “Yeah.”

  I’m not surprised Katie knows his name. Apparently, I’m the only person in the entire hospital who hadn’t heard about that guy. Caine Foster, everybody says, his name always mentioned in full and in a voice full of admiration.

  “Tell me all about it.” Katie picks up her ham and cheese sandwich and looks at me with anticipation.

  “There’s nothing to tell. An asshole came. He was rude. That’s all.”

  “Damn. Everybody else is raving about how hot he is and how lucky you are to have talked to him. And here you are, acting like it was nothing.”

  “It was nothing.” I shrug.

  “Yeah, sure. That’s why you’re fuming. Because it was nothing.” Katie takes a big bite of her sandwich and raises her eyebrows.

 

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