A far cry from the passionate trysts we were used to. After the dust had settled and Dom was three years old, it happened. I was sitting in a warm bubble bath one night after dinner, soaking in luxury. Rose petals, champagne, strawberries and cream, the works. I got pretty excited when she took off her dress and let it fall to the floor. She slipped out of her underwear and wiggled her cute butt in front of my face. As she stepped slowly into the tub with me, I felt the familiar hoist of the flag. The jolly roger was prepared and ready for battle.

She moved closer to me, soap in hand, and lathered her beautiful breasts as she smiled seductively. I reached out and stroked her plump, firm breasts, nipples erect and full. She reached for my shaft and caressed it. She came close so that her mouth was on my earlobe. Then, she whispered.

“Guess what, my sexy man.”

“What have you got planned for me, you little sex bomb?”

“A bigger team, ” she whispered.

“A bigger team? What do you mean a . . .”

She lay a devilish grin on me before she said, “I’m pregnant.”

Before I could respond, she took me into her mouth. I held on tight to her as she rocked me to orgasm. My head was spinning as I floated in the afterglow.

“Well played, you wily fox, well played. Just one question. Who’s the father?”

She burst out laughing and threw a soaking sponge at me.

“I’m going back to that medieval store first thing in the morning. The bloody chastity belt is useless!”

“I love you, Joe.” Her eyes were dancing.

“I love you back, gorgeous.”

Little Dom banged on the bathroom door. “Mama, Papa, open the door! Guys.”

THE END

READY FOR THE NEXT INSTALLMENT?

Ruthless Captor - Corrupt Minds Book 3 - Available to Pre-Order NOW!

http://mybookto/ruthlesscaptor I don't take what isn't mine... but I decided to break the rules with her.

She should never have been there.

Wrong place, wrong time.

When I saw the terror in her eyes, those beautiful eyes, I knew what I had to do.

So I took her.

Now she's mine to do with what I please.

She may hate me, but that only makes me want her more.

In the end, she'll see who I really am.

In the end, she'll come to me.

In the end, she'll be mine.

 

Also By Camille Alexander

THE CORRUPT MINDS SERIES

Forbidden Desires (Book 1)

Hidden Deceit (Book 2)

Ruthless Captor (Book 3)

THE OBSESSED BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE SERIES

The Brokerage - Book 1

The Catacombs - Book 2

The Catacombs II - Book 3

The Catacombs III - Book 4

The Sentinel - Book 5

THE OBSESSED BILLIONAIRE BOX SET

REVIEWS

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Facebook: Author Camille Alexander

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PREVIEW: THE OBSESSED BILLIONAIRE

Camille Alexander

Introduction

A controlled and highly disciplined billionaire travels the world doing business and living the life most of us only dream of, discovers at auction something that rocks his world and eventually threatens his very stability and the safety of a country.

When a woman worthy of his interest appears on the scene, we discover she is unmatched in sexual experience, but is equal in every other measure. And she does not go quietly into the night. She knows her worth and negotiates it well at every turn.

Will he earn her heart and the freedom to bed her? Can he keep her safe?

The Brokerage is an organization that has for almost two centuries sold the bodies, skills, and services – sexual, and otherwise – into consensual arrangements with wealthy patrons accustomed to the very best. See for yourself what this one brings…

Chapter 1

It was the best place to find an assortment of women and occasionally a man who was looking for… Unique employment. Sometimes they became a sugar-baby to a wealthy exec, sometimes a hooker, paid for each transaction, or a valet or butler with a very special specialized set of skills. Occasionally, a virgin was interested in launching their entire future self into this defined world. Other times, they were common corporate assistants, or estate managers looking for a different set of expectation; ones more clearly defined.

The one thing they all had in common was the extensive research into their backgrounds to establish their pedigree and qualifications for the category they had enrolled themselves in. They were put through extensive and extremely rigorous, almost harsh, checks for consent as well. There was no one here remotely close to an indentured servant or from a slave trade unless that was their kink. Never, ever, anyone from a real sex trafficking operation. This exchange was based on an honor system, and the patrons would not tolerate even the merest hint of scandal.

Every time The Brokerage was open, which was only once per quarter, the dress code was unforgiving. White tie. Never anything less, and the house always provided service at a level that matched the dress code. Every suite had a butler unless there were two patrons sharing a suite, then they each received their own butler. The suites were spacious. Sixteen in total. Elegantly appointed, typically redesigned to match to each patron’s style prior to the auction – even if there was a last-minute cancellation, the room was perfectly matched to the guest. The Brokerage events had a waitlist, so no doubt décor items for each patron were obtained,

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