Falling for my Dirty Uncle: A Virgin and Billionaire Romance

by Alexis Angel

Ethan swats my ass several times in quick succession. “How could I ever be anything but happy, when you’re mine? When you’re with me? When I know that you love me and understand me like no one else ever could or will.” His voice cracks a little. I’ve never heard so much emotion in his voice. “If you had said no,” Ethan says, his voice more hushed than I’ve ever heard him. These words are hard for him. It breaks my heart to hear him like this, and I grab one of his hands and squeeze it, and I curl myself against him on his lap. “If you’d said no, I just don’t know what the hell I’d be without you. I’m not a modest man, or a man of modest means, but you can burn me and this whole world to the ground and it is all the same if I don’t have you.”

  Ethan swats my ass several more times, all these spanks on the same spot. And they’re making that good sting. My pussy and ass so thoroughly used today, it makes pleasure zing through me like a nice bubble bath, only a thousand times better.

  “I love you, too, Ethan. But you don’t want to bath before bed?” I ask. I realize he’s told me something incredibly emotional and here I am going, hey, we are super filthy right now. And I realize that I don’t care about being filthy. “Or not. Tomorrow,” I say with a yawn.

  “Yeah, we’ve got all the time in the world to get clean tomorrow. Tonight, let’s savor our dirty selves, together.”

  Ethan rubs my ass and turns me around, pulling me against him for a passionate kiss. He keeps his arms around me and pulls the blanket from under me. Ethan stops kissing me and puts the blanket around me, and then crawls under it with me. Pulling me in his arms, Ethan kisses my neck softly for what seems like an eternity.

  “Have you ever written fiction?” I ask him.

  It comes from nowhere, sure, but it also doesn’t.

  This man is my great love. I have everything I want now, and it makes me think about how the enduring love stories have made such big deal to me my whole life.

  “I haven’t actually. Though I will be writing our vows. Teacher/student is a taboo relationship, but I can’t use ‘She Walks In Beauty’ since our crowd is bound to laugh at us for picking a poem that a brother wrote for his sister. That’s even more forbidden than us,” Ethan says with a laugh.

  “I think I want to try my hand at fiction. Romance novels. You’ve inspired me with our great love,” I tell him. “You see, I always think about you in terms of being this great Romantic hero. Except none of the tragedy, never again I hope. I think I’d like you to have the lowercase romantic hero instead…meaning you’ll survive and we get to live happily ever after,” I say, leaning back to kiss him.

  “I am your great love? Only two English majors would have that full contextual understanding of all the wondrous things you’ve said to me. I can say without a doubt that my soul is made of yours, that you are my enduring great love,” Ethan says.

  The emotion in his voice has my eyes watering. I pull him tight, grind my ass against his cock — oh that man cannot be hard! No, false alarm, his cock is just huge. I mean, we were both yawing.

  “You need to know, though, Ethan, that despite the bad things you think about yourself, they aren’t true. You’re a good man. You’re not a devil, you’re not crazy. I think we’re both melodramatic. But we can be happy, forever, I just know it. Our troubles are fading faster and as long as we have each other, we’re set for life,” I tell Ethan. I mean every word.

  Ethan is quiet at first. “We are most certainly melodramatic. That’s why we study ancient works of a combination of usually just 26 letters. And why we care so much about fictional characters. But I care more about you then anything in my life. Than even myself. And I love me, I do…” Ethan laughs. “But you’re right, I’ve left myself weigh down my own opinion of myself. In loving you, and having your love in return, I know now that I can be happy, I can be good. With you, I’m everything.” Ethan says these words.

  I know we have an age gap romance. I know that we are supposed to be different levels of maturity. That he’ll always be much older than me. And we have a startling co-dependency. But together, we are still perfect. He and I are everything we need to be to each other.

  And like any great romance heroine, I don’t give a fuck about the problems. I don’t give a fuck that we’r not perfect.

  Together, we are perfect. “You’re my world,” I say, pulling Ethan’s hands around to hold me.

  “And you’re mine,” Ethan says, squeezing me so tight for a second, I can’t breathe.

  All this time with Ethan, and I’m tired, spent, satisfied.

  And I’m thinking about great loves. I fall asleep dreaming up characters, and creating conflicts for them that I’ll write in my first romance novel.

  Because do you know how a romance novel ends and the great loves finally get to be together?

  When everything that keeps them apart isn’t strong enough to keep doing so. My brain can dream up new characters, because it doesn’t need to try and solve the problems between Ethan and me anymore.

  We’re living happily ever after.

  Emmaline

  Three Months Later

  My mother is trying, she really is. I see the smile she offers me, and then Ethan, and I’m grateful and smile back. It's been three months since Ethan versus my mother went off on full tilt. Now I live with Ethan, we’ve decided to stay engaged until I’ve graduated, and Ethan and my mother are even forming a tentative revival of their friendship.

  I close my hand over Ethan's on one side of me, and my mother’s on the other. These are two of the most important people in my life and I’m so happy that they can be friends again.

  My father clears his throat, but when I look up, I don’t see the look of disapproval that I might. Instead, he raises a glass.

  “To Emmaline and Ethan,” he says, and I’m shocked.

  “Dad?” I whisper, so shocked at this illicit approval.

  “Emmaline, you’ve always been such a smart, precious girl,” my father says. “You were always complicated, intense, emotional, all of these things in incredible ways. It's part of what drives you and what makes you an amazing woman. There’s nothing you set your sights on that you don’t get,” he continues.

  I think I’m going to cry, and I’m smiling so much. Ethan and my mom are both squeezing my hands back.

  “You know, there’s only been one other person in our lives that was that level of intelligent and ferociously passionate, in a way that even your mother and I couldn’t understand, and that’s Ethan,” my father says, tipping a drink to him.

  I look to Ethan and see the surprise read on his face. It warms me inside and out to feel such love in this room right now, and I can’t recall ever feeling so happy at one of these family dinners that Ethan and I go to every week. We wanted to not be the older man, younger woman couple that was hiding from our families or anyone in the world. We're serious about being together, and I have always been close with my family.

  But this is more than I could've ever hoped for with us. At least not so soon, if ever, did I think one of my parents would be so accepting.

  The truth is, my father is quiet. I had no idea that he saw me like this, or Ethan, or the two of us together like this.

  “I believe the two of you are going to be very happy together. And I know things got to their own rocky start, but so many relationships do. It doesn’t matter how you start, hell, sometimes it doesn’t even matter how you finish. It does matter what you do in the middle. You two are in the middle, and you care for each other. You treat each other as equals. As long as you love my daughter, Ethan, you’re always welcome in my home,” my father says, and then he laughs. “But if you break her heart, I want you to understand that I’ll have to wait in line behind her to break your kneecaps, and that’s probably messy so we’ll keep that outside.”

  Everyone laughs, and it isn’t forced. I let go of my mother and Ethan's hands and I walk over to hug my father. Then I grab my water glass and I toast with everyone else.

  “To Emmaline and Ethan,
” my father says.

  My mother repeats the words, “to Emmaline and Ethan,” and to her credit, she actually sounds like she means them.

  I look at Ethan and I can tell that he’s shocked, too. Neither of us expected this, and we’re both so grateful.

  I remember that night my mother confronted us. I thought it was a little odd that my father said nothing but things to try to calm my mother down…but I had no idea that he could actually approve of my relationship.

  I mean, let’s look at the facts. I’m dating a man who was my professor, who tried to start something with my mother when they were younger, and here we are sitting at a table with dinner where I’m not even old enough to drink.

  Surely, there’s all sorts of reasons my father could disapprove.

  “Thank you for seeing the man that I love,” I say, raising my glass. “Thank you for seeing the person I am, always, dad,” I say, and I start to get choked up.

  “To family,” my mother says, clinging my glass together. “Ethn, you’re part of this family now. I never thought you’d marry my daughter, but now I can’t see a future that the two of you aren’t in, together. That’s hard for me to comprehend until I see how you two are together. Emmaline isn’t like other girls, but Ethan, you’ve never been like other men. I know you two will continue to be very happy together,” my mom says with a wide smile. It is genuine. “Now, let’s eat before we all get choked up and this food gets cold!”

  We laugh but we all go to our forks. It's true, we were all feeling the love so much, a perfectly good dinner could've gone to waste!

  The night winds down. We do dessert, we do after-dinner coffee, and we all share stories. I update everyone on my progress with school — and, of course, I’m doing great. The new English professor is not up to par with my current one, so I’ve been doubling up on other ancillary classes. Theatre has been my latest obsession and the drama teacher is absolutely my favorite this semester. She’s got a deep appreciate for classical plays, and that is part of the literature that I know and love.

  Ethan and I are taking a summer trip to Italy to see, among many things, the Keats-Shelley house. I’m getting my Romanticism education, in literature and love, from him. Ethan is working on a book, and while we’re there he’s getting interviewed as he’s the foremost writer about Mary Shelley in the world now.

  My parents are both up to great things — the company they work for has promoted them both, and they’re still climbing. My parents have always had a quiet ambition, nothing like my boisterous one, but they’ve found their paths.

  My family is so perfect right now that I feel a deep sense of contentment like never before.

  “Thank you both for a wonderful evening,” I say, kissing and hugging my parents goodbye.

  “Yes, thank you so much for everything, Joelle, Daniel,” Ethan says. Both of my parents hug him, and it doesn’t look forced. I’m so grateful for the acceptance.

  The fairy tale ending, me, Cinderella swooped off with her Prince Charming, the Beauty to Ethan's Beast, it all feels that much more perfect with my parents totally accepting just how well Ethan and I work together as a couple.

  Living together has been a dream.

  Not going to lie the instant we get back in the car, I’m grateful that Ethan has opted to have a driver again.

  Because I know that the instant we get in the car, I don’t need him driving. I need his hands all over me. Already, the hand at the small of my back feels extra warm, and I know the instant my parents are back in their house, it's going lower.

  Yeah, that’s one of the best parts of the fairy tale. I love this man, and he loves me. And we can’t keep our hands off each other for a second, really.

  “You’re so fucking gorgeous in this dress. I think you should leave it on for your first orgasm,” Ethan says with a growl, teeth against my ear.

  When we slide into the car, he slides his hands right into my dress and runs his fingers over the damp triangle of my panties. I’m always so wet for him, and he hadn’t already got me wet, his voice vibrating against my skin would've done it.

  “Your pussy is so soft, so wet,” Ethan growls. His knuckles run under over the fabric of my thong, and then his fingers dip inside.

  I blush at his words, even though he’s whispering. It's incredibly obvious to the driver that we fuck in the back of this car almost every day now, and that’s surprisingly not a problem for me.

  How did Delia put it? Oh, yeah, she said from virgin to porn star, that’s where I want. Because let me tell you, her and I have had many a bowls of popcorn over the wild and crazy sex that I have with Ethan. Delia told me she’s actually envious of my sex life, and did we ever think that day would come?

  “That’s because I want you to fuck me, Ethan. My pussy is so wet because I need you inside me,” I purr, hardly able to breathe when his fingers keep on me like this.

  “Your clit is twitching, Emmaline,” Ethan says, his mouth on my neck now. “I think you need to cum soon, so I promise I won’t tease you too long.”

  I reach my hand out to grab his cock over his trousers, desperate to feel that velvet wrapped in steel under his clothes, but I’ll settle for stroking the massive bulge. His fingers slide inside me, it feels like three huge fingers inside my pussy, and his thumb circles over my clit. I cry out at the sudden invasion.

  Ethan pumps his fingers in and out of my pussy, keeps his thumb stroking my clit.

  Warm pressure builds up in my belly and I’m aching for release. I’m so close already, and I can barely breathe.

  Ethan brings his other hand to my throat, fingers closing around it, his claiming touch enough to send me over the edge. He grips me and pumps harder into me. Our eyes meet.

  “You want to cum, my sweet baby girl?” Ethan asks. The raw emotion making his voice thick, the lust heating his eyes on mine, all send me over the top.

  I get such a thrill out of how Ethan responds to me. It almost seems too good to be true that this gorgeous man could be all mine, and want me the way I want him. But our passions match and meet in the most incendiary way that I know that we’re made for each other.

  “Yes, please, Ethan, God,” I’m groaning, begging, my hips bucking up to meet him, my pussy walls squeezing around Ethan's fingers, desperate for release.

  “Cum all over my fingers, baby, I want to taste you,” Ethan says. His voice is pure need.

  The air between us is electric, and the lust surging through me explodes. I don’t hold back anymore and I breathe deep into the orgasm flooding my senses.

  Ethan's hand on my throat grips tighter, and his finger strokes my G-spot inside, his thumb working my clit impossibly faster.

  I rocket off to the moon for all I care, being loud and cumming hard as I can. That driver definitely knows what we’re doing, but I’m not really thinking about that right now.

  I’m thinking about how much I want Ethan's cock deep inside me. That’s where I want to cum. When I finally come down for a second, I see Ethan again as I open my eyes. Only when we make eye contact does he slide his fingers out of my pussy and into his mouth. I see them, glazed with my pearlescent arousal, and I like knowing that my cum is in his mouth. He kisses me, my cum coating his tongue, and I taste his mouth and my lust all at once.

  I’m almost painfully aroused right now. The pressure in my stomach has just started and I’m aching for more release, more Ethan. I need him. I need his arms wrapped around me and I need his cock inside me.

  I feel the car stop, and Ethan breaks the kiss to open the door. He unbuckles me and pulls me out of that car, slinging me over his shoulder. I think I actually see the driver laugh for a second, but I’m a little distracted. When a sexy guy throws you over his shoulder, you get to look at his butt.

  What a fine ass it is, too. As soon as we’re in the house, he puts me down at the door. We’re both desperate for each other, but I need to see Ethan, naked before me. He’s so gorgeous that I only fear death because it means I’ll never s
ee him naked again. Ethan, naked, hard, and looking at me like he wants to devour me is my exact sexuality. That’s what I crave, what I need, he’s everything that I’ve ever wanted in one perfect package of intelligent and physical perfection.

  He presses me up against the door, but I put my palm on his chest to stop him. He already has a hand trailing up my thighs.

  “Em, I need you,” Ethan says, his voice dark and thick with lust. I almost want to follow where that raw power and intensity in him goes, and be coy, but I need him too damn much to play games.

  “I need to see you. Naked. I want to see that perfect body before it crushes me against it. I want to see you everywhere, touch you everywhere,” I say, and I realize that I’m reaching out and grabbing his cock.

  “Oh, I need you too, baby. You do your clothes and I’ll do mine,” Ethan says, his breathing ragged.

  If we don’t fuck soon, we’ll probably die. That’s how bad we need each other.

  I start on my dress and step out of it, then pull off my thong. As I’m unhooking my bra, I decide that there is a little bit of tease in me right now, and I bolt to the library.

  Ethan follows quickly behind me, leaving a mess of clothes behind him. I get right to his big leather wingback chair and lay myself over the arm, pressing my ass up into the air.

  “Goddamn, good thing I’m not any older and I’m in such good shape, because that heart-shaped ass bent over my chair would give me a fucking heart attack,” Ethan says, his hands firmly gripping my hips.

  I’m turned around so that I can look at every inch of him, and he’s pure sculpted perfection. I turn around and hold onto the chair as much as I can, though, because I’m dangling off the edge and I need to hold tight.

  Because as soon as I turn, Ethan starts running the length of his cock through my bare, exposed pussy.

  I cry out, the intensity of the sensation already so overwhelming. My legs are shaking.

  Ethan's fingers dig into my hips and I crave that possessive touch. It makes me wild, over the edge of just fucking. When Ethan fucks me, he claims me. I couldn’t have it any other way. I crave him.