Ladies Prefer Champagne Alpha Male Romance Mega Bundle

by Champagne Jackson

  “No… None.”

  “Good. Well, one of your old clients wants to see you.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to see him.”

  I waited to see what he would say.

  “You make me angry sometimes, Latoya…” he growled.

  “Do I?”

  “You do. And I think you like making me angry.”

  “I smiled in spite of myself.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “We’ve got tickets for a red-eye to Paris. It’s first class. I’ll have my driver pick you up.”

  I froze.

  “You’re joking.”

  “I don’t joke, Latoya. Not about things like this.”

  And then he hung up.

  I sat down in shock. Had he really just invited me to Paris for the weekend? That was like an eight hour flight! That was insane. There was no way I could go. No way.

  But then I checked my email. It had to be a joke.

  But no. There was the ticket. The ticket to Paris.

  Attached to the email was a little message.

  “Don’t disappoint me. Be ready to go at 4 AM. And you’re going to miss your Monday classes.”

  I groaned inwardly. I had a test on Monday. What the hell was I supposed to do?

  Jesus Christ, Latoya. What is there to do? Go to Paris. Go to fucking Paris on this billionaire’s dollar.

  ~

  And so, the next morning, I was up bright and early. Bright, maybe, is a misnomer—it wasn’t yet bright outside yet. The sun had not yet risen and people were still partying from the night before, dance music still blasting through the streets and down the halls of my building.

  But I didn’t care. I was going to Paris.

  At 4 AM sharp, a black car rolled up outside my building. I knew what it was even before I got the call.

  “Ms. Wright?”

  “Yes?” I asked, answering the mysterious call from a hidden number at four in the morning. In any other situation, it would have been terrifying but here, it was magical.

  “The car is waiting for you downstairs.”

  And so, taking a day bag with a few changes of clothing (the nicest stuff I owned) and a backpack with my laptop and notebooks (to do homework… fat chance), I trudged downstairs, too excited to be sleepy.

  I expected to see Birch in the car when I climbed in but I was greeted by an empty back seat and a garment bag.

  “Er, are we picking up Mr. Birch on the way to the airport?” I asked the driver timidly.

  “Mr. Birch won’t be able to make the flight—he’ll be on a later one. But he sent the garment bag along for you—a few items in there that you’re to take on the flight.”

  Items, huh? As the car pulled away from the curb outside my apartment, I unzipped the back and gasped. A blood red Vera Wang dress. It was gorgeous and it looked like it would fit my curves beautifully. I didn’t know what to say.

  And of course, I brought my necklace. I wanted to be perfect for him.

  Perfect. I did want to be perfect for him. Okay, David Birch. You win. We can play this game and I’ll let you win. I’ll lose, so long as this is what losing means…

  I got to the airport in record time owing to the empty streets. The driver courteously opened the door for me as porters rushed over to collect my bags. I could tell that David had planned this all out. He was clearly showing off, even now—and it showed.

  And he hadn’t been lying about first class. Let me tell you, if you’ve never flown first class… Well, I never once in my life thought I’d be flying first class but it truly is an experience. Most everyone else on the flight was asleep but the flight attendants immediately brought me a glass of champagne and a small tasting plate of caviar—seriously.

  My stomach delightfully full of salty fish eggs and fine, dry champagne, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, only to awake in Charles de Gaulle international airport…

  ~

  Birch had booked a room for us in the Bristol Hotel. When the private driver pulled up to the hotel, I had to gasp. In a city fully of beautiful, luxurious sights—this one really took the cake.

  They were expecting my arrival too. Even though it was early, the porters seemed perfectly on their toes and dashed about, taking my bags and leading me up to my room—a magnificent suite with a gorgeous view of Parisian rooftops and, in the distance, with the sun rising behind it, the Eiffel Tower.

  And there, in the room was…

  Holding a glass of champagne in his hand, shirtless, having just come back from a run, apparently (who drinks champagne after a run?)…

  Was David Birch.

  “Bonjour, mademoiselle,” he said with a perfectly delicious, perfectly cold smile.

  “You!” I squealed in delight, dropping my bags unceremoniously on the floor. The porter behind me dashed over to pick them up.

  “How… how did you get here before me? I thought you missed the flight?!” Was he capable of time traveling now in addition to everything else? It made no sense whatsoever!

  “I did. In fact, I had never planned on being on the flight. I’ve been in Berlin all week for a conference and I decided on a whim to see if the Bristol had any vacancies. When I found that Kanye had cancelled his reservation for this room… Well, I just had to snatch it up.”

  He began to glide over to me, taking a long, slow sip of champagne.

  “And who better to share it with than you, my dear?”

  He finished the glass in a single gulp and tossed it to the porter who caught it, though not without a truly alarmed look on his face.

  “We’re going to be busy but bring us another bottle in… Shall we say two hours?”

  “Oui, monsieur!” the porter said with a quick nod, still slightly panicked from having seen the glass almost break as he wandered out of the room and shut the huge, gorgeously carved oak doors behind him.

  “Now… Why don’t we shower? I’ve just had a workout and I’m sure you’ve had a long flight.”

  I bit my lip and followed him, as if in a dream, into the huge, luxurious bathroom. It was all marble and gold fixtures, with—god, incredible!—its own balcony. There was even a hot tub out on the balcony. A bathroom with its own open air hot tub and balcony!

  Birch began to strip off his sweat pants and in a second, he was totally naked. I found myself whimpering a little in delight and anticipation, admiring his chiseled abs, his powerful pecs, those broad shoulders, and powerful legs… And the flaccid, though slowly hardening cock in between his legs.

  “Well, are you just going to stand there?” he asked with a quick, easy grin. “You can’t shower in those clothes!”

  I was jerked out of my reverie when he crossed to me and began to strip me—by force. He caught my lips with his as he forced my sweatshirt over my head and deftly undid my bra. I gasped in surprise, feeling my breasts, my sensitive nipples, pressed up against his hard, powerful chest.

  “Oh, David…” I murmured softly, running my hands over his moist, sweaty skin, savoring his powerful scent—the smell of a man who was physical and primal and, more than anything else, in charge.

  “Latoya… I want to give you everything…” he whispered as he began to slide my Juicy sweatpants down, hooking his fingers into the waistband and working them down my long, shapely legs, along with my panties. “I want to make you mine… I want you to submit to me completely…”

  Yes, this was what he had wanted all along. Could I give in to him? Did I dare?

  Yes. Yes, I did dare.

  “Yes, David… Please… I want that…”

  “Good girl…” he cooed, running his hands over my hot flesh. Now, all I wore was the Tiffany’s necklace. Gently, he reached behind my neck and undid the clasp, removing it and laying it delicately, with enormous care, on the bathroom counter.

  “Don’t want this getting damaged… We might get a little rough. A little wild.”

  “Really?” I asked, grinning as I sank to my knees. I knew what he
wanted. I knew what he liked first.

  “Really.”

  “But what about this, first?” I asked, sliding my lips along his cock. He was already hardening—had gotten about half hard by the time he had undressed me—but I felt the blood in his dick come alive when my lips touched it. I loved the way his cock awoke under my lips, under my tongue, twitching as I wrapped my lips around his shaft.

  “Good girl…” he cooed, running a hand through my hair. I gasped as he pulled hard and whimpered as he gripped me hard, letting me lick, letting me slurp as I ran my tongue and lips all over his shaft, sloppy at first and then more practiced, more delicate.

  His length was fully hard now, his thick, pink-purple cockhead standing at attention proudly. I ran the tip of my tongue from the base of his dick all the way up to the tip, teasing the hole at the very top and eliciting hot, hungry grunts from his lips.

  “Don’t tease me like that.”

  “You act like we don’t have time to tease…” I insisted, running my fingers along his balls and teasing them every so slightly.

  I gasped as he gripped me hard by the hair.

  “Now you’re in my world. Now, I use you, Latoya—for what I want.”

  Those words sent delicious, electric shivers up and down my spine as he forced his cock into my mouth. I gagged but I was a pro at this: I let it slide down my throat with barely a whimper as I began to bob my head, taking his length deep, deep into my throat, letting it slide out fast before engulfing it once more in my hot, wet mouth.

  “Fuck, yes, that’s right… That’s right, Latoya. Suck my cock. Suck my cock.”

  He groaned in delight, his hips thrusting involuntarily into my mouth. I gagged and gasped onto his dick, surprised by the sudden invasion of the back of my throat by his cockhead. But I kept it together. I kept deep-throating him, just like every good whore knows how to…

  “You’re mine now, Latoya. You don’t realize it yet but I’m going to mold you into the perfect woman… I don’t care what you’ve done in the past. You’re going to be my little sex slave—my perfect, beautiful little girl.”

  His words kept turning me on more and more. I groaned in delight onto his cock, dropping a hand down to my hot pussy to touch myself. I was sopping wet. I wanted this bad. I wanted whatever it was he was proposing—I wanted him to be my master and most of all, I wanted to submit to him, to give him pleasure in all things—however I could.

  Faster and faster I sucked him, the bobbing of my head coming in time with my fingers stroking my clit. I closed my eyes in delight. The muscles in my throat were growing sore and stiff and so I focused on the delicious pleasure emanating from my clitoris and spreading all throughout my body, lighting every cell of my being on fire.

  “That’s it… Faster…”

  I moaned onto his cock as it twitched and spasmed in my mouth. I knew it wouldn’t be long. I knew he would cum soon, would fill my mouth with his delicious seed. I wanted it. I wanted it bad—wanted his cum in my mouth, in my throat, filling me up with his hot cum.

  I moaned a little bit louder onto his cock, and then gasping, pulled off. I took a deep breath and then lowered my mouth onto his dick once more, impaling my face on his meat, stretching my lips and my jaws to accommodate his girth.

  Mr. Birch rewarded me with a primal grunt, grabbing me by the head and thrusting his cock down my throat hard. Tears came to my eyes, threatening to flood my orbs and crash over the cliffs of my lids. And then, suddenly, I was cumming.

  I gagged and squeezed his cock with my lips, moaning like a whore onto his cock as I stroked my spasming, swollen clit even hard, all but sobbing on his cock as I choked on it. I couldn’t keep it together anymore. I just couldn’t. It really was all I could do to keep from biting down on him.

  “Fuck!” David groaned and suddenly, his cock was spasming too and he was pumping, pumping cum into my mouth. Salvo after salvo of hot, thick, sticky cum hit the back of my throat, clinging to my throat, filling my mouth with his hot seed. God, but it was tasty. It was delicious. I swallowed greedily, hungrily. I swallowed with delight.

  “That’s it… Drink it down…” he instructed. “Drink down every single drop.”

  And I did with pleasure. I wanted to please him, after all.

  Finally, gasping and panting for air, I slid off his cock, my lips a little swollen and smeared with cum.

  “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

  “Not bad?!” I exclaimed. I saw from the smile playing at the edges of his eyes that he was joking but still—I was ever so slightly offended. Here, I had just sucked off his sweaty cock, choked myself on it and brought myself to orgasm at the same time—and that was ‘not bad’?

  As I got myself a glass of water, David ran the shower for us and climbed in. Once I had brushed my teeth, I joined in, sighing in delight as the hot water hit my hungry flesh.

  “Yes… This hits the spot…”

  “I’m glad it does…” David whispered back, gripping my ass hard. I yelped in surprise as I leaned back, getting my hair wet. I caught his lips in mine and we kissed hard, our tongues dueling as he spread me open from behind.

  I whimpered as I felt his fingers on my asshole. I remembered that he liked it like that. Well, I frankly had no objections—it had been incredibly last time.

  He bent me over and knelt behind me and I gasped as I felt the hot water flood my ass, cleaning me out.

  “I’m all clean for you now…” I said with a giggle and then gasped as I felt his hot tongue begin to lick me, starting at my clit and then working its way up and up and up along my slit… Finally coming to my asshole. Then, he licked back down, running the gamut and getting me even wetter. It was amazing.

  With the electricity running through my body, I barely noticed the way he spread my own wet juices over my asshole, teasing my tight hole and getting me relaxed and stressed out. He pressed me up against the wall of the shower and then bent me over and then, I felt his cock at my asshole, the tip pressing into my tight hole, just barely spreading me open.

  “Oh, god…” I whimpered. “Be gentle… please…”

  And then I threw my head back, gasping in pain and pleasure as he forced his length in, ramming his cock deep into my tight back cavity. It had only been a week or so since he had taken my ass but it felt like I was a virgin all over again.

  “Oh, god…”

  “I absolutely won’t be gentle,” David whispered, puling my hair hard and forcing my head back, almost pulling me harder and farther onto his cock. “You’re mine now… And you’re not getting away without some kind of discipline…”

  I squealed and whined as he began to fuck me… And fuck me hard. It hurt bad but each thrust was like electricity, flooding my body with delight. I wanted it harder and harder and harder. I wanted him to pound me, to make me his bitch. I wanted him to ride me hard like his property, like a mare for him to use and abuse…

  “Please, harder!” I squealed. “Fuck my ass harder! I can take it!”

  And then, oh god, he complied with my demand. He began to pound my ass harder and harder and harder, slamming his thickness into my tightness, tearing me apart. Tears were falling freely from my eyes now, getting lost in the shower water as I sobbed with pleasure and pain.

  “Please, please, sir!” I groaned.

  “Sir… I like that…” David whispered. “Sounds like some Fifty Shades of Grey bullshit. I bet you read that and you love that, don’t you?”

  I had to admit, I was a fan. I had enough weird sex in my life that I probably didn’t need to read more of it but I couldn’t get enough. I guess I had picked the right part time job.

  “I’m no Christian Grey. I’m the real deal,” David warned me, his voice dripping with danger and lust. And that was exactly what I wanted.

  I gripped my tits hard, pulling fiercely at my nipples as he plumbed the depths of my ass, ripping into me, ripping deep—I groaned and cried out, shaking and thrashing in delight and agony.

  “Please… Pl
ease sir… harder…” I moaned even though I was sure if he fucked me harder, I might die—might explode with passion and delight. “Please, I need it…”

  “That’s right, you need it…” he growled. And then, I felt it—his cock expanding, spasming inside of me, pumping… And pouring his seed into me. I threw back my head in ecstasy as I reached back to spread my ass cheeks open wide, taking his cum deep into my ass, letting it fill me up.