by Abby Angel
“Now,” I continue to say, flattening the palm of my hand against his cock once again. Then, a fraction of a second later, I push his boxers down and his cock springs free almost too violently, hitting my forearm as it jumps up.
Moving with cat-like movements, I roll to the side and climb on top of Arsen, my knees on either side of his thighs as I straddle him. I don’t even bother with taking my thong off, let alone my dress; I just take one hand between my thighs and, like he did before, I flick the fabric to the side. Grabbing his cock with my free hand, I angle it upward and then raise my hips, positioning myself so that my pussy hovers over the tip of his cock.
“You wanted it… Now you can have it,” he groans as I brush the tip of his cock along the length of my pussy, preparing myself for what’s to come. Surprising myself, I lower myself in a rush, impaling myself on his thick member in a fraction of a second. The moment I feel his twelve inches sliding all the way inside of me, it’s as if the whole universe has exploded inside my skull. Bright lights go off behind my shut eyelids, and it feels like there are burning coils under my skin.
Reacting to that avalanche of sensations, my body starts moving as if it suddenly gained a life of its own. I buck my hips fast, swaying them back and forth and riding Arsen with a kind of desperate anxiety. I lean into him, my hair cascading down my shoulders and covering my face, and I place both my hands on his chest, my fingers turning into claws as I dig my fingernails deep into his flesh.
Clawing at his skin, I keep on moving my thighs as his thickness pulses against my inner walls, sending shards of pleasure all the way up to my brain.
“That’s it, Ash… Go as hard as you want to,” he says and, even though my eyes are closed, I can feel in his tone of voice that there’s a giant grin on his face right now. “Keep fucking yourself on my cock,” he continues, taking both his hands to my ass and squeezing both cheeks at the same time, his fingers exploring the curve of my backside as they slide under the hemline of my dress and push it up to my waist.
“Fuck,” I hiss between my gritted teeth, my muscles growing exhausted with the effort. But I don’t give up – in fact, I do exactly the opposite. Taking a deep breath, I ride him even faster, more than ready to drive myself over the edge of pleasure.
I only stopping when I feel another orgasm creeping up on me, its sudden whisper taking over my mind and severing the connection between it and my body. My muscles start to twitch as I come and, at the same time, I let a loud moan erupt on my lips. I keep on moaning until I run out of the breath and then, finally succumbing to the sudden exhaustion gripping my body, I simply roll to the side and collapse on the sand, sprawling both my arms and legs as I try to catch my breath.
Before I know it, Arsen’s on top of me, his body between my spread legs. I open my eyes to meet his gaze, and offer him one tired smile. “Tired?” He asks me as if he can read my thoughts, and I don’t even need to think of an answer; it just takes shape in my lips by itself.
“No,” I whisper, “give me more.”
Grinning, Arsen takes both his hands to my shoulders and pushes my dress down my arms, the front drooping over my arms to reveal my bra. One of his hands moves between the sand and my back and, when he finds the clasp of my bra, he unhooks it and then yanks the whole thing off with one quick movement.
“Much better,” he says, more to himself than to me, and allows his fingers to go over the rising curve of my breasts until they meet my nipples. Pinching them softly, a purr of pain dawning on my lips, he then goes to his knees suddenly. Grabbing at my dress, he pushes it down my legs and them moves for my thong; instead of pushing it down, he simply hooks his fingers on it and yanks it against my outer thigh, ripping it apart and throwing it to the side.
Now completely naked, I feel my pussy growing wet and anxious to have his cock inside of my once again. “Come here,” I moan, throwing my arms around his neck and pulling him into me; I lace my legs around his waist at the same time, and he just lets himself go and lays on top of me.
His cock finds its way home in the blink of an eye. Throwing my head back and closing my eyes, I keep on moaning as his thickness fills me up once more, its warmness spreading through my body like honey.
“This… this is perfect,” I say, forcing me eyes to open so that I can see his face. Over his shoulder, there’s the sky – dark and sprinkled with pale starts, the bright moon casting its light over the world.
“It’s always perfect with you,” Arsen replies, thrusting softly and guiding all of his twelve inches deep inside my pussy. With one hand holding my head, his fingers between the sand and the nape of my neck, he keeps on sliding his cock in and out of my pussy, doing it in a kind of wild tenderness. His thrusts are soft and hard at the same time, and our bodies seem to blend into one as he does it.
Craning my neck, I part my lips and fit them into his, kissing him as if I needed to do it in order to survive. And, in a way, I do: after all, I don’t know what would be of me if I didn’t have him by my side.
Surrendering to the moment, we give our bodies to each other. Skin-on-skin, heart-on-heart. We do it for what seems like an eternity, one that stretches past human constructions such as seconds, minutes, and hours. Right now, time doesn’t exist - inside our little bubble, only the sand and the ocean exist, and the nakedness of our burning bodies.
From the edge of my unconscious mind I feel ecstasy coming for me again, warm fingers of lust wrapping themselves around my soul. Closing my eyes, I let that pleasure turn into sound inside my mouth, and then I arch my back as I feel my pussy tightening around Arsen’s shaft.
My moan turns into a scream, one that grows into something wild and wicked as I feel Arsen cock throb violently inside of me. Tightening the hold of my legs and arms, I lock him onto my body and start bucking my hips against him as I come, almost desperate to make him cum as well.
And that’s exactly what happens.
Groaning, he places his head next to mine and presses his forehead against my shoulder, his cock pulsing hard as it gushes Arsen’s warm seed inside my pussy. I keep frozen in place as he cums, my own body and mind still burning on my orgasm, and my skin prickles as I feel his cum dripping out of my pussy.
“So good… Like always,” he whispers against my ear as his cock finally stops moving inside me. Sliding it out of my pussy slowly, he then rolls to the side and collapses on top of the sand, his ragged breathing blending with the sound of the ocean.
Looking up at the sky, I search for his hand and, finding it, I lock my fingers on his.
“You’re my everything, Arsen,” I say, the moonlight bathing both our naked bodies.
“No, you’re my everything,” he whispers gently, his voice still heavy and betraying his exhaustion. Smiling to myself, my chest rising and falling hard, I bite down on my lip as I realize that I will never forget under this moment. Laying down, completely naked on one of the most beautiful places on Earth, with the song of the ocean as our soundtrack, pleasure still burning inside our bodies…
There’s only one word to describe this moment, and that word is perfection.
Man has been chased. Now it’s time for Woman
Here next is the first Top 100 Book I ever had!
And then we have:
Python by Alexis Angel
Woman of the House by Abby Angel - Never before seen!
After that we have a BRAND NEW short story called Kristin’s Harem!
After that, we have another BRAND NEW short story called Baby Makes Five by Abby Angel. Loved writing this one!
Our goal in this is simple.
To entertain you as long as we can to give you the best customer experience with the words that we hold so dear. Because while we may be in various corners of the world, the fact that we are sharing these brings us closer together we feel.
Thank you so much for reading!
xoxo
Alexis Angel
Wicked Lil’ Brat: A Secret Baby Romance
Descr
iption
The best way to enjoy my lil’ brat is to make her beg...
No woman can tame Mason Kane. Trust me, plenty have tried.
They get caught up with my bedroom eyes, ripped body, and massive...bank account.
But then I go too far.
Now I’m stuck in a loveless sham marriage to a soulless ice queen to save my company from the mistakes of my past.
But it gets worse.
There’s a little brat running around the house.
Teasing me. Tempting me. Making me have forbidden thoughts.
So what if she’s 16 years younger than me?
So what if we all sit around a table and share a wholesome family dinner every night?
Because it’s only after dinner – when everyone is asleep - that this bad boy of Wall Street is going to go up against his biggest challenge.
A wicked lil’ brat.
Wicked Lil’ Brat is a full-length standalone romance that will have your naughty bits twitching with delight. No cliffhanger. HEA? You know it, babe.
Mason
SQUELCH!
That's the sound that Stacy's pussy makes as my hard fucking cock drills her over the sofa she was sitting on.
Her grey skirt is bunched together and hiked around her waist. I already tore the panties off of her before you even got here.
"Oh my God, Mason," Stacy shrieks as I pull her hair back and slap her ass like a fucking pirate. She's on her fucking knees and her hands are holding onto the sofa cushions for dear life. Her blouse is unbuttoned and her bra is unclasped so her tits are hanging free.
I don't really know much about this girl. What I do know is that her name is Stacy Sawyer. She's an anchor for MarketWatch Journal, the pre-eminent financial news organization in the world. And up until maybe twenty minutes ago, she was finishing up yet another standard and pretty boring interview.
Oh, right. Where are my own fucking manners. Let me introduce myself, as long as you don't mind me talking to you with my cock up some slut. I mean, I already know your name. No, don't roll your eyes at me. I know who's reading me and who's not. And no, I'm not going to say your name out loud just to prove to you that I fucking know it.
In fact, you know what? I'm going to call you Gorgeous from now on. You got that, Gorgeous?
Anyways, so who the fuck am I to take such liberties with you?
I'm Mason Kane, billionaire CEO and founder of the investment bank Kane Price.
That's right.
That CEO that you see pictured on the cover of TIME Magazine saying that he's going to change Wall Street.
The CEO they made the movie about. Where they called me the King of New York. Funny how that name fucking stuck. Everyone seems to know it.
You probably saw the movie, but you're probably rolling your eyes at the over-the-top lifestyle that I live in. Everything I have around me is larger than life. My personal fortune stands just shy of $30 billion dollars. Sure, a good solid 85% of it is tied to the performance of the stock in the company I started—the investment bank and private equity shop known as Kane Price.
That's right. I started Kane Price with nothing. Built it up to a massive, globe-girdling corporation that today employs over 300,000 people all around the world with offices and operations in over 180 countries.
The Mason Kane that you see on the cover of People Magazine. Yeah, they love taking pictures of me, trying to figure out which fucking slut I'm currently banging, or if I'm doing more than one at the same time. I mean, they've covered me with everyone, from that one chick that won the fucking Oscar for Best Picture, to the first female Senator from Hawaii, to those billionaire twins, to even a pop singer. I mean the fuck list goes on and on.
Sure, the press inevitably find out about the women. Hell, the women are the ones that go to the fucking media. . After they get told by my assistant that I'd received their messages and would call them back when I was free, and they never hear from me. They go running to the newspaper and the press goes on to report to the nation how I made yet another one of America's Sweethearts cry because she missed my cock.
Yeah, just to make sure you have the right Mason Kane, I'm the one with the gigantic 12-inch cock. The one that Playboy called the foot-long gift from God to all women of the planet. Swinging between my legs, its the first thing people glance at when they know who I am, and are meeting me for the first time.
Seriously, I shit you not. People I've never met before—male and female—will shake my hand as per protocol and their eyes will try to pass briefly over my crotch. But they'll notice the bulge, and how it continues, and they'll forget all the rules about staring and their eyes will go wide.
The women at least will start trying automatically to get me out of my fucking clothes. Some of them succeed; I mean they say a fuck a day keeps the doctor away, right? Not that I really need a doctor, to be quite perfectly honest. I'm like the pinnacle of human evolution.
I stand fucking 6' 3" tall. I've got broad fucking shoulders and a cut fucking body with defined pecs and a set of 8-pack abs that ripple with enough power to make any man feel inadequate. My eyes are cobalt blue and they penetrate deep into your soul when I look at you.
But you're not noticing all of this if we're in a room together.
Just like Stacy, you'd be salivating as I took off my shirt and showed you my ripped body. Your eyes would look over my defined pecs and 8-pack abs. Seriously, you probably haven't seen that many guys with an 8-pack of abs. Those guys that they have on the covers of other books don't have 8-packs. You gotta train hard to get it. And that's what I do. My body is a temple for fucking.
Yeah, Gorgeous, your panties would be fucking wet and you'd be taking them off.
In fact, why don't you just take my fucking advice and take your panties off right now?
I fucking guarantee you that it will save you the effort later. You won't have to do laundry on another pair.
You might want to also go somewhere a bit more quiet so you can fucking read; you know what I mean?
Get that fucking vibrator out and get ready, because this shit is about to get real. My 8-pack abs are about to start caressing your body as I start fucking kissing your neck.
The party is about to start, so fucking feed your family and go get in bed.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Although, I don't think I need to warn you.
I know you'd have a bit more class than Stacy did during our interview.
All during the interview, Stacy made no secret of the fact that she was in fucking heat. She wanted to shuck herself on my flagpole.
"So you really are bullish on the market then?" she purred during the interview and I remember fucking smiling. I mean, it wasn't hard to figure out what she wanted all throughout the interview; her eyes were already undressing me the moment I walked in. Sure, it was a boring interview to watch for the viewer, but for me, watching her cross and uncross her fucking legs got me hard. And Stacy could see it. She watched as my cock came to life, began to twitch, and then started to bulge on my trouser leg. She smiled as she asked me, "And what are your predictions about banking stocks in the next quarter?" as she gave me a fucking lascivious stare.
"Very, very hard to keep from rising right now," I remember telling her and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt we were gonna fuck. That's why as soon as she said, "Great, thank you for sitting down with me today, Mr. Kane," I wasn't surprised to see her order the cameraman—who was the only person in the room aside from us—to go get the makeup artist without a second to spare.
Now I'm fucking making her moan like a whore as I pound her pussy mercilessly with my 12-inch cock. I can feel her squirming and her walls closing around me, and that's the cue that she's having an orgasm.
"I'm cumming!" she yells breathlessly, her eyes closed and her face contorted in this fury of fucking lust. "Oh, God. I'm cumming!"
Her entire body is fucking trembling. It's fucking amazing what my cock is able to do to women.
But you know what, Gorgeous? I'm not really into this bitch that much. I mean, sure, she looks okay. She doesn't have the tightest pussy. Her body is giving up. She's not really even much of a fucking nice person. She ordered around people before our interview like she was some kind of fucking princess. And of course, she's just fucking me because she's horny. But she's probably going to go to 21 afterwards and tell all her broadcast journalist news friends that she fucked Mason Kane.
And then she's going to go home to her fucking husband who lives in Connecticut and kiss her kids on the mouth a few hours after she used it to give me a lick-smacking, dirty-as-fuck blowjob.
So yeah, I don't have much respect for her at all.
In fact, I slap her on the ass, hard.
This makes her body tremble even more and probably intensifies the orgasm.
I can feel her pussy milking my cock and I know I'm not going to last much longer.
Fuck, I wish we'd left the camera on. At least that way I'd have something to watch later on in my office.
I glance toward the camera and see it staring at me.
Hey, one fucking second. Is the red light on the camera supposed to be on?
That's exactly when the door bursts open.
"Guys, we're somehow still live and rolling!" the cameraman shouts.
Stacy is in the throes of the last of her orgasm and all she does is whimper. I don't even know if she realizes what's happening.
But I have a fucking reputation to protect. I can't be like that guy, what's his name? Lance Anders? The intern at the White House who almost started World War III by fucking the President's daughter in the Oval Office.
I have a fucking Board of Directors who will flip the fuck out as well as fucking shareholders who'll just roll their eyes and wonder if I've gone off the deep end.
