Thief of Hearts: A Rogue Billionaire Fake Fiance Romance

by Carter Blake

  We're in the beginning stages of planning our wedding. Obviously, it will be somewhere remote and it will be just us.

  Even though I’m in love, and even though I'm a changed person since having met Marcus, I still like things my way. And luckily, he respects that.

  He comes over to me and rubs my shoulders. His touch sends pulses of electricity through my body. I can never say no to him, and I'm always craving him. It's a perfect world.

  "Babe," I say with a groan, "you are seriously distracting me. I'm almost in the system."

  "You are? Well, that's not good. You shouldn't be able to penetrate it."

  "Did you say ‘penetrate’?" I tease. "I'm almost in and that means bad things for your system."

  Marcus has a new security system on his bank. And my role is to try to hack into it on a regular basis to make sure that it's well-armed. I'm the newest member of his company's IT department—and I'm also the best.

  I've moved into Marcus's penthouse and it's a welcome change from my old life. I never thought I could be this happy.

  I never thought that I needed another person or a place that felt like home. But with Marcus, everything has changed. He makes me desire a better life. He lets me know that it's okay for me to be happy.

  At the same time, we've started multiple charitable organizations. He's a billionaire, after all, and he can afford it. Besides, we both want to help the world whatever way we can.

  In fact, I have several overseas trips planned for us to see where we can help things along in terms of the refugee crisis and homelessness in other countries.

  We're going to Europe to look at their models of integrated health care and everything else.

  Marcus is rich and he has connections. I am fully planning on taking advantage of those connections to help people wherever I can.

  Even though I'm living this glitzy lifestyle, I will never forget how I started—as a kid on the streets, an orphan. No one wanted me, and that makes me determined to help other children find good homes and build better futures.

  Lucky for me, Marcus has helped me legitimize my business. Suddenly, hacking is a good thing and not a criminal activity.

  I don't steal anymore because I don't have to. With Marcus's help, we've been able to establish so many charities and so much publicity for them that I don't even need to steal.

  People are donating left, right, and center. It's as if we're creating a new standard for the world and we're doing it together.

  Marcus trails kisses along my neck. He knows that I won’t be able to resist. He spins me around in my swivel chair and pulls me up towards the bed.

  With a gentle push, he has me lying before him on his massive California King. He unzips my jeans enthusiastically.

  We kiss for a long time, appreciating each other and craving each other all at once.

  But then, I wrangle myself from under his touch and leave him lying alone on the bed.

  "I have work to do, Marcus. Do you want someone to hack into your system while I'm busy having fun with you?"

  He pulls my arm before I can get away and soon, he has me underneath the weight of his large frame.

  "You're not going anywhere," he says with a smile. "You're mine. For now and forever."

  I can tell by the hungry look in his eyes that he means business. I'm not going anywhere. He won't allow me to get off this bed until I'm sore and freshly fucked.

  "Okay, fine." I give up all resistance. "But let me just tell you this...You're going to have to pay me overtime."

  Marcus laughs and continues to peel off my clothes, layer by layer, piece by piece.

  I start to get so wet, and he can feel it through my thong. He bends down to taste me, moving the small scrap of fabric with his teeth so that he has full access to my pussy.

  I arch my back and try to take in the waves of pleasure that he's causing with his tongue.

  I know this is bliss. I know this is my happiness. Life might've knocked me down at the beginning, but it gave me strength and taught me how to fight for myself. This is something I had to learn on my own.

  Had I known what sort of fate awaited me, I would have been more eager to endure the hard times.

  If I hadn't grown up poor and alone, I wouldn't have known the harsh reality of life. My time in the trenches and on the outskirts of society have given me a certain perspective, a lens through which I can adequately see how to help people.

  I'm still a loner at heart, but I have Marcus at my side and together I know we can fight any battle.

  Finally, I have a partner-in-crime.

  And at this moment, he's tearing my lingerie off with his teeth and giving me a seductive grin.

  "Marcus," I say, "I can never get any work done as long as you insist on fucking me all day, every day."

  "And baby," he says, "that's never going to change."

  I lie back onto his soft comforter and just allow myself to soak in the joy of being with a man who understands me, a man who is not intimidated by my strength—and ultimately, a man who can contain my wild heart.

  I realize that I’m most myself in his arms, and this is certainly a surprise, considering I'm so used to being alone.

  I let go and soon, he has me seeing stars.

  Mad Love

  A Dark Psychological Romance

  By Aiden Forbes & Gage Grayson

  Copyright 2018 by Third Base Press

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work intended for adults only.

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  Jaxon

  The sound of flesh smacking into flesh is like music to my soul. The hard edge of bone being pounded close to its breaking point is poetry. A splash of blood flies through the air and lands in sprayed drops over my face.

  I feel a genuine smile creeping over my face. I don’t know if it’s the blood or the bitch sucking my cock that’s got me so warm and fuzzy. Probably both.

  I’m leaning against the hood of my limo. The parking garage is completely deserted on every floor. We’re a few floors up—one of my favorite spots to deliver justice.

  No cameras, no people this time of night. Just peace and quiet. You know, aside from the moans and screams.

  The bitch sitting on the hood behind me wriggles, her legs wrapping around my waist from behind. I take my eyes off the show in front of me for a few seconds to lean back against her.

  Her bare, bouncy young tits feel incredible as she grips me from behind, grinding her hips into my back. Her pussy is giving off heat against me as she watches her friend on her knees in front of me, going to town on my cock.

  I already fucked them both in the limo on the way here, of course. We picked them up…oh, fuck knows when. I can’t remember.

  I was raging on a high at that point as we nabbed our good friend Senator Dickens. My blood has been running hot for this fucker since yesterday’s six-o’clock news.

  He had stated in a public press conference that I am a ‘loose cannon’, whatever the fuck that means. He explicitly said those exact words!

  “Jaxon Covington is a madman. He cannot be trusted. All his political dealings are suspect. He is a loose cannon, and I will not have meetings with him. My integrity will not be damaged by any interactions with him or his outfits, and I suggest that my colleagues do the same if they hope to keep their image clean in the upcoming political race.”

  My fists clench just thinking about it. I look back at the scene in front of me. Instantly, I feel soothed.

  I have four of my best guys working over Senator Dick right now. T
he cunt is in his fucking pajamas—can you believe that?

  We plucked him at 9:00 p.m. right out of his four-poster bed. Who the fuck is in bed at 9:00 p.m.? Even more, the whiny little shit was crying and blubbering the whole fucking drive.

  Made it pretty difficult to keep a boner, but these two sweet little bitches here made it work.

  I even offered him use of one of the girls, just to see his face. It was fucking priceless. I had both tandem sucking my cock at the time.

  One of my guys had yanked his pajamas down, and the girls laughed and said, “There’s no fucking way!” before he could even say yes or no.

  They had given the senator cheeky looks and giggled the whole time they worked their tongues up and down my giant cock, just taunting him.

  Credit to him, though. The sick shit kept watching!

  It was a moment of pure pleasure to lean forward, fix him with my gaze, and whisper, “You might want try to convince them, buddy. You might not have a cock to play with before the night is over.”

  He had already run through the “You’ll never get away with this” and the “Someone will stop you” by the time we got here. Honestly, it was starting to get annoying.

  When I leaned against the bonnet and pushed the redhead onto her knees, I had my guys drag him out of the car and start working him over. Senator Dick just started blubbering, his whiny screams of “No!” and “Help me!” echoing through the parking garage.

  My boys surrounded him in a ring, shoving him from one to the other like a fucked-up game of catch.

  He’s kept on his feet for some time now. Honestly, I’m a bit impressed. For a mid-fifties guy in blue striped pajamas, he’s coping well.

  I’ve seen drug dealers tap out and start crying for their mommas much quicker than this.

  I put a hand on the bitch’s head, gripping her skull through the red hair. I force her head down so my cock goes right into her throat. At the same time, one of my guys punches Senator Dick hard.

  Blood and teeth hit the ground. I rock my hips, and the bitch gives a little cry through a hard gag.

  Looks like my huge cock might be too much. Damn shame.

  By their looks, I had thought they’d be a little more skilled. At least that rules out them being hookers, right?

  They had been walking down the street when we were on our way to Dick’s house. Both dressed a bit punkish—the blonde behind me even has a few piercings, and the redhead has some nice tattoos.

  They had taken my money, drank my booze, and smoked my cigars as I traded between them. But hookers or not, they’re going to do as they’re fucking told.

  I hold her head down, and she gasps as my cock jerks down her throat. She tries to swallow, then pulls away, gasping, eyes watering. She sways on her knees, looking all hurt and vulnerable.

  If she doesn’t stop it, I’m going to get rock-hard all over again.

  The blonde holds me tight against her, licking my neck and nibbling my earlobe. Her hands creep around and pinch my nipples.

  Her friend looks up at her with those teary eyes, but she just keeps on working at me. She might be fun, this one. A bit spicier than some others.

  Usually, I like my girls to be a bit cleaner, but these are fine for a few hours. When we’re all done, I’ll give them to the boys for a while.

  The senator is down on his knees, crying and bleeding. They start kicking his guts but not too hard, just drawing out the torture.

  Meanwhile, the blonde’s attentions are getting me hard all over again. I turn around, my cock still hanging high and stiff out of my fly. I pull the bitch toward me and impale her with no hesitation.

  Were they wearing panties when they got in the limo? I can’t fucking remember. She’s wet and warm and gasps as I pull her naked ass across the hood.

  My cock slides straight in, and she leans back, skirt around her waist, top bunching up.

  I hear violence behind me as I yank up her top and take her nipples between my teeth roughly. She shrieks and bucks under me, and I pin her down with my cock, thrusting deep and hard. After only a few strokes, she’s whimpering and whining, already close to orgasm.

  I jerk her legs up and wrap my arms around her thighs and slam her with my hips, banging the fuck out of her.

  I’m so hard now I want to take my time, but if I do, Senator Dick might pass out. I want to talk to him first.

  I lay in a few hard, deep thrusts, groaning under the weight of sensation. It’s so hard to feel things that times like this nearly overwhelm me.

  Violence, sex, pain. It’s running through my veins like fucking honey, or inner peace or some shit.

  We all just tick differently, don’t we? Don’t try to understand. Just ride it.

  Whatever feels good. Go for it.

  I blow hard into the little slut, jerking her hips up as I come. She leaves a mess on the hood as I pull out and get my cock tucked away again.

  The redhead is still sitting on the concrete. Maybe the alcohol is wearing off or something.

  “Roll with it, honey,” I say with a smile.

  She looks up at me, startled. I laugh at her, running a hand down her cheek.

  Fun time is over. Time to talk to Dick.

  I walk over, joining the circle around the senator. He’s on his hands and knees, bleeding from the mouth. A nice red puddle is forming underneath him.

  He’s moaning and spitting out teeth. Both his eyes are sickeningly black.

  “Get him up.” I give a gesture as I command.

  My boys pick him up from under the arms and get him on his feet. I come up close, so close his ragged breathing sprays blood over my face.

  “What did you think you were doing? Huh? I thought we had a good deal. We were starting to become good friends, I thought. I have something you need, you have something I want. It should’ve been a simple exchange. But no, you had to go snooping, didn’t you? Decided all on your little lonesome that I was dodgy. That some of my dealings may even be ‘legally questionable.’” I finish with playful air quotes at the side of his head.

  His eyelids flutter close as his head lolls. I slap him hard, and his eyes open and focus on me again.

  “What was the issue here, Dick? Didn’t like how much power I have? Think it belongs to you? Why do you get to decide who’s dirty and who’s not? Huh? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  I pull out my favorite knife, flicking out the blade. His eyes go big and wide as I bring the knife close to his face.

  “Maybe I should just kill you, man. I’m fucking pissed off enough. But you know what’s better? Getting people to compromise themselves. Seeing how far people will go. So, let’s see your bargaining skills, Dick. What will you give me for your pathetic little excuse of a life?”

  Without warning, cars come screaming into the lot. The second they hit our floor, the lights and sirens come on.

  Clever cops. They didn’t announce their presence. Interesting.

  I drop the knife and step back, casually putting my hands behind my head. This is really fucking fun now. I can feel myself grinning.

  What a fucking night!

  Cops surround us, yelling “Freeze!” and all the usual stuff. My guys drop Senator Dick and comply. The girls scramble to hide in the limo.

  The man in the suit comes out from the line of uniforms, holding his badge and handcuffs.

  “I’m here to arrest you, Jaxon Covington,” he says gruffly.

  “Not a problem, Officer. I’m sure this is a misunderstanding. These men work for me, but they are…ah…socially challenged? Can’t always control them, you know? They get very protective of me.”

  “Is that right?” The detective smiles as he brings my hands down to cuff me.

  Even with my hands caught behind my back, I’m completely calm.

  Honestly, the cold metal feels pretty good on my wrists. I’ve been running pretty hot-blooded tonight.

  “Get the others. Somebody interview those women.” The detective gestures at my boys, and
uniforms come forward to restrain my guys, who comply without a word. “And get a medic.”

  A younger detective comes through out of the spotlights. He walks over to us, looking at a tablet.

  “We gotta haul you in, Mr. ‘Jackson’ Covington. Quite a sheet here we need to go over with you. What were you thinking, huh, Jack?”

  He looks right at me as he says it. There’s ice down my spine. I can feel my face freezing as a grin creeps across my face.

  I roll, landing on my back. I flip my feet through my locked hands and spring up, smacking Young Detective in the jaw with both hands.

  I get three good whacks in before the other cops jump me. Bodies slam me against the concrete. I come down near Young Detective’s wrecked face, pouring blood onto the concrete.

  “Don’t call me Jack,” I whisper at his unconscious form.

  Alison

  I’m sitting in the second row, trying to keep my mind on the trial. Jaxon Covington—the most interesting psychiatry case to date—is being sentenced for conspiracy and intent to harm. There are a host of other possible crimes, but I’m not taking that into consideration as I make my observations.

  The prosecutor is droning on with such a dull, monotonous tone I think half the jury is asleep. Jaxon is on the stand, looking perfectly calm. His hands are clasped before him, watching the prosecutor with an easy smile as he makes his case.

  Anyone this calm standing trial with these accusations is either utterly innocent…or a sociopath.

  I’m finding it hard to keep my eyes open with this fucking prosecutor. He’s still rambling. Granted, I didn’t sleep much last night; I stayed up late to process cases and to make my mental checklist for today.

  I fight it, but a small yawn escapes my mouth. As it does, Jaxon looks right at me with a smile on his face—one much different than that of the mask he’s put on for the prosecution.

  A chill runs down my spine as my eyes meet his pale, icy gaze. For a single moment, we’re the only two people in the courtroom. I gulp.