The Triple Crown Club: Complete Series

by Madison Faye

  “Maybe she didn’t warn me about ones that kissed like you.”

  Her hands pushed inside my jeans and my boxers, and when her fingers curled around my thick cock, she moaned into my lips.

  Fuck, I knew it was a bad idea. I knew with that crowd that night, the chances of her being a student at Gilman were real good. But when my lips seared to hers again, and when I swallowed those sweet, soft moans and felt her body hungrily wrap around me, I knew it was a lost cause. I knew I was a lost cause, when it came to her.

  My jeans dropped to my feet, my hands tearing open her blouse as I eased against her. I hooked her little panties to the side, our tongues swirling together as I pushed the swollen head of my cock against her slick opening.

  “Last chance to say no, baby,” I growled, every muscle in my body tensed and my cock pulsing as it leaked pre-cum over her lips.

  I knew she was running from something. Hell, I knew I was, in a sense. I knew this whole thing was bad fucking news. But she just shook her head, one finger raising to press against my lips as her eyes blazed with raw heat.

  “Fuck me,” she whispered, trying so hard to sound casual and sexy, but not doing a very good job of hiding the trembling innocence in her voice.

  Last chance gone. I’d given her the out, and now, she was going to be mine. My lips crushed to hers, my my hips pushed forward, and she moaned into my lips as I slowly drove every thick inch of my cock deep inside her velvety soft, slick little cunt.

  She rocked against me, legs clamped around my waist as I pinned her to the door and started to fuck her. We clawed and kissed at each other fiercely, going hard and fast, my cock plunging inside her tight little pussy again and again. Soft, mewling little cries of pleasure fell from her lips, her hands clawing at my back as I drove into her hard and fast.

  We moved faster, and slammed together harder. This was raw, animalistic, frantic fucking, and I could feel every single cell in my body craving even more of her. I kissed her like I wanted to possess her, grabbed her like she was already mine, and fucked her like I never wanted her to forget the feel of me filling her up.

  No words. No names. No faces. But I knew just from the sounds of her moans when she was close. I kissed her hard, slamming her against the door as I drove my cock to the hilt inside of her until I felt her fucking explode around me.

  She screamed into my mouth, her hands clawing at my shoulders and my chest and her legs locking around me as she came. I groaned, tasting the moans from her lips as I felt my cock throb deep inside, crashing into her until we came to a gasping stop.

  Slowly, I pulled free of her, slipping her panties back into place and groaning hungrily at the thought of my cum filling them. I set her down on shaky legs, watching the way she took a deep breath and smoothed her skirt down, her face flushed as she re-buttoned her blouse.

  “I, uh...” She bit her lip looking up at me like she wanted to say something. Fuck there was so much I wanted to say too — that what’d just happened had been the hottest, most explosive sex of my entire life. That nothing in this world had ever felt so real, and so totally and completely good, and like it completed a part of me I didn’t even know was missing before.

  But she shut her perfect, soft lips and shook her head, and the moment was gone.

  “No names, huh?”

  “Someone told me it’d be more fun that way,” I growled, pulling her close and leaning down to kiss her. She moaned into my lips, draping her arms over my shoulders until a pounding on the door shook us from it.

  “People are waiting to pee out here!” A girl’s voice screeched through the door over the music.

  “Guess we should go.”

  “Guess so,” I said tightly, my jaw clenched and my anger rising at the idea of letting her walk away from me. I was a big boy, I knew what random, no-strings sex was.

  …That had not been random, and there sure as fuck were strings.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said quietly. She leaned up, pecked me on the cheek. Then she whirled, yanked the door open, and slipped out.

  I was still standing there, blinking, shaking my head, and trying to figure out what the hell had just happened when one of the mermaid chicks burst back in, screeching at me to get out of the girls room.

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  Sneak Peek: Claiming His Mountain Bride

  Claiming His Mountain Bride

  My mountain. My cabin. My rules. And she’s my woman – she just doesn’t know it yet.

  I left civilization and my demons a long time ago, seeking solitude up on Blackthorn Mountain. Just one ex-Marine, a remote cabin, and the wilderness, with no distractions.

  But then she turns up, blowing in with a winter’s blizzard like a very fucking big distraction.

  Blonde, beautiful, and mouthy as all hell, even when I save her from freezing that sweet little ass off.

  A rough mountain man like me should want nothing to do with a rich little city girl like Katrina. Except one look at her sweet, tempting curves, and one taste of those sassy, pouty lips, and I want everything to do with her.

  I saved her from freezing, but maybe it’s her who’s going to save my frozen heart.

  We’re trapped up here for the storm, locked in a cabin with only the heat between us to keep us warm. Her wealthy, city family thinks they can marry her off to some rich little shit. But they’re very wrong.

  My mountain. My cabin. My woman.

  I’ll make Katrina my bride, and I’ll be damned if I let them take her from me.

  Heads up - I’ve gone totally off the rails with this one. This book is pure, unfiltered, growly-alpha-claims-his-woman smut at it’s finest. It’s sweet, it’s filthy, and it’s completely ridiculous. You’re probably going to love it ;). Safe, no cheating, and HEA guaranteed.

  1

  Katrina

  The blast of freezing cold wind hit the car like a thunderclap, making me jump. The Land Rover jerked on the icy road, the steering wheel lurching in my white-knuckle grip as I eased on the gas and wrestled back control. I shivered despite the heat cranking inside the vehicle, my eyes narrowed as I tired to peer through the wall of white coming down in sheets across the small mountain road in front of me.

  Shit, maybe this was a terrible idea.

  But then, I hadn’t known what else to do except run. My gut instinct had been to flee to the only place I knew where I could just escape everything. Of course, I hadn’t exactly expected the snow storm of the century coming down like some sort of biblical plague.

  My mind slid back to three hours before, back at the restaurant where Paul, my fiancé had decided to remind me exactly how much of a piece of shit I always knew he was.

  “Excuse me?!”

  “C’mon, Katrina, calm the fuck down. This doesn’t change anything.”

  In a way, he’d been right.

  I can’t say I was heartbroken having just been told by my fiancé that he was screwing another woman. Heartbroken would imply that I’d cared enough for Paul to well, be heartbroken. But I hadn’t, so it wasn’t broken. I was pissed the hell off though.

  The truth is, I’d never wanted to marry Paul, but in the world I grew up in, things like that don’t matter. Paul and I marrying just “made sense,” as my father Milton put it. After all, the Bartholomew’s were a family just as connected, and stately, and rich, and well, obnoxious and pretentious as mine. Paul’s father was a VP at some huge financial institution, just like mine was. We’d gone to the same level of snooty, snobby private schools, had the same stern-faced, hugely expensive nannies growing up, and had gone to the same calibre of bought-and-paid for ivy league colleges. In the world I grew up in, Paul and I would get married, he’d become VP of some other bank or hedge fund, and I’d sit at home redecorating our mansion on the shore every two months and popping out three perfect little children.

  And to some girls, that was the dream. To some people, that was a life worth living.

  But
to me?

  …The thought made my skin crawl.

  I hated the idea of being a stepford wife — of being this trophy sitting in some rich, smug asshole’s big pretentious house. And on top of that, I really didn’t like Paul, like, as a person. He was a prick, and rude, and the thought of being physical intimate with him made my stomach heave. But thankfully, it hadn’t come to that yet. See, if I was going to be forced into this bullshit, antiquated arranged marriage thing, well then, I’d do it antiquated all the way. They wanted to force me to marry some jerk like Paul as if we lived in Elizabethan England? Fine, then I‘d pretend I was a woman of the same time, and women of arranged marriages did not sleep with their betrothed until marriage.

  Yeah, take that, assholes.

  I can tell you, watching the smug look fall from Paul’s face when I told him point blank he wouldn’t be getting any was almost worth the lifetime I’d have to spend with him. But then, apparently, Paul had gone out and gotten a little side piece. And told me about it, in the middle of a three-star restaurant, two minutes before our parents walked in for a dinner where we’d be discussing wedding locations.

  “You’re a real piece of work, Paul,” I’d spat out shaking my head and jerking my arm away from him.

  “Listen ice-queen, you brought this on yourself. A man had needs, Katrina.”

  Again, I wasn’t upset about Paul fucking some other girl — hell, she probably deserved a medal. I’d certainly never done anything with him, but a girl I’d gone to private school with apparently had, and through the rumor mill, I’d heard every gross detail about how small he was and how downright abusive in bed he’d been.

  Yeah, no thanks.

  So, whoever this side girl was, fuck it, she could have him. I didn’t have feelings for Paul, but I did have pride.

  “Sit down,” he’d hissed. “Sit your tight ass down, shut the fuck up, and smile pretty, Katrina.”

  My blood boiled.

  “Look, our parents are here,” he’d hissed, nodding past me at the door to the restaurant. He’d put a big plastic smile on his face and waved.

  “This marriage is happening. It makes sense for our families to be connected. We’ve got good genes, and our children—”

  “Not fucking happening,” I’d spit out.

  Paul had sneered.

  “The wedding is next month, bitch. And after that, you’re going to damn well learn to spread those legs and let me get a piece of what's mine.”

  Right then is when something in me snapped. Maybe it was the other girl. Maybe it was him talking to me like I was a piano he was buying for his house. Maybe it was the thought of having sex with him that made the bile rise in my throat.

  Whatever it was, suddenly, it all clicked into place.

  I didn’t want this life. I didn’t want Paul, I didn’t want that future, and I was not going to just sit there and let it happen.

  Horrified gasps erupted around us as I’d hurled the wine from my untouched glass right into Paul’s face. He’d sworn fiercely, staggering to his feet and sputtering.

  “You bitch! You fucking—”

  “Paul?”

  He’d froze.

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  And then I’d turned and walked away. I’d walked right out of the restaurant, ignoring Paul, and my father bellowing at me to get back there, and my mother echoing the same. I’d almost caught a cab, but instead, with a smug grin, I’d let the valet know that I’d be taking my fiancé’s car.

  Dick.

  I’d driven the extravagant black and chrome Land Rover back to my apartment, snagging anything that could fit into a small pack and changing into the warmest cold-weather stuff I could find. I’d turned my phone off, jumped back into the SUV, headed out of the city, and driven the two hours straight here, to Blackthorn Mountain.

  A blast of frozen winter wind slammed into the car again, making me gasp as the whole thing shuddered sideways on the road.

  Yeah, maybe this had been a terrible idea…

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  Also by Madison Faye

  Standalones:

  Trick And Treat

  Sugar & Spice

  Five Card Studs

  Dear Stepbrother, I Want You

  Blackthorn Mountain Men:

  Claiming His Mountain Bride

  His Captive Mountain Virgin

  Her Mountain Baby Daddies

  His Big Mountain Axe

  Her Daddies:

  Double Daddies

  Triple Daddies

  Bad Medicine Series:

  Doctor Babymaker

  Doctor O-Maker

  “Dirty Bad Things” Series:

  Hard Core

  Pretty Dirty

  Rough Stuff (June 2018)

  “Innocence Claimed” Series:

  His Little Bad Girl

  Tempting Daddy’s Boss

  Paying The Debt

  “The Triple Crown Club” Series:

  Royally Shared

  Royally Claimed

  Royally Tempted

  “Possessing Beauty” Series:

  Beasting Beauty

  Stealing Beauty

  Sharing Beauty

  Hunting Beauty

  Possessing Beauty

  “Forbidden” Series:

  Flirting With The Law

  Breaking Her Innocence

  “Three Times” Series:

  Bossed Three Times

  Taken Three Times

  Paid For Three Times

  “Twice” Series:

  Twice Driven

  Twice Bossed

  Twice Tackled

  “First Time” Series:

  Legal

  Professor

  Freshman

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  About the Author

  #1 bestselling contemporary romance author Madison Faye is the dirty alter ego of the very wholesome, very normal suburban housewife behind the stories. While she might be a wife, mom, and PTA organizer on the outside, there’s nothing but hot, streamy, and raunchy fantasies brewing right beneath the surface!

  Tired of keeping them hidden inside or only having them come out in the bedroom, they’re all here in the form of some wickedly hot stories. Single-minded alpha heroes, sinfully taboo relationships, and wildly over-the-top scenarios. If you love it extra dirty, extra hot, and extra naughty, this is the place for you!

  (Just don’t tell the other PTA members you saw her here…)

  @madisonfayesmut

  MadisonFayeRomance

  www.madisonfayeromance.com

  Original individual books Copyright © 2017 Madison Faye

  Cover: White Rabbit Creative

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.

  This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains extremely sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language which may be considered offensive by some readers. This book is strictly intended for those over the age of 18.

  All sexually active characters in this work are 1
8 years of age or older. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual.