Triple Major

by Lana Hartley

Having seen the dangerous side of life, I can say I’m stronger for it, but I still wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

  “You okay?” Nate asks.

  “Yes,” I take in a deep breath.

  “Well, you look sensational,” he says, eyeing my white silky dress.

  The limousine meanders through the long driveway leading up to my parent’s estate.

  As soon as I see the mansion, all of my nerves dissipate.

  We pull up to the huge front doors, and I get out before the car even stops. I run to the doors, open them, and rush inside.

  “Mom? Mommy?” I cry. “Where are you?”

  I see her at the top of the stairs, tears forming in her eyes.

  “Sienna,” she says, almost as if she can’t believe it I’m really here.

  “It’s okay. It’s me,” I say.

  I run up the stairs to my mother and dissolve into her arms. She holds me in a warm embrace. Tears flow freely between us at our reunion.

  Neither one of us can believe it.

  “I miss Daddy,” I say.

  “Me too,” she says, smoothing my hair.

  “Are you okay?” I ask. “Without him?”

  She looks at me for a long time before responding, “Yes, because Sienna, I know he’s still with us, somehow. I feel him, don’t you?”

  I do.

  I do feel my father around me all the time. In his mansion or fighting for my life in the heart of New York City, he’s still with me.

  I know he’s there watching out for me.

  Nate walks in, and my mom goes down the stairs to greet him.

  “Nathan, thank you for taking care of our daughter. She’s lucky to have found you.”

  He pulls me to his side, and I wrap my arms around his waist.

  “It was my pleasure, Mrs. Rose. It’s nice to see you again,” he says to her.

  “Please, come join us outside on the patio. I’ve had the chef make up some hors-d’oeuvres,” my mom says, forever being the hostess.

  And I sink into this moment.

  And I feel at last content.

  I’m with my mother at last. And nothing could equal that.

  But even as I walk the familiar halls of the mansion, I know that my true home is with Nathan now.

  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Sienna

  I’m putting the finishing touches on my hair.

  Makeup artists and stylists roam about the room, but all I can focus on is my image in the mirror.

  This is my wedding day.

  It’s certainly different than I ever could’ve imagined.

  For one thing, I’m getting married at home.

  Nate has bought me the most beautiful mansion in LA. He said that being with me erased all of the bad memories this town had brought him.

  The mansion is gorgeous and modern and chic. I hired scores of designers and architects to help build the place. It’s brand-new and perfectly acquainted to me and him.

  “Darling, you simply have to put these white lilies in your hair,” the stylist is saying.

  My hair is long and flowing with perfectly made up curls.

  “Okay, if you think so,” I say, trusting his judgment.

  I have the best stylists in town. Nathan’s made sure of that. He’s also made sure I have every extravagance and happiness.

  Ever since moving to LA, things have been different. Nate seem a little bit less stressed out. He’s successfully overtaken Edison Shaw’s business and made it more streamlined and approachable.

  Everything he does is legal. Because he would never want to put himself in harm’s way. He knows that I need him.

  And I do need him.

  Sure, we’ve been living here for the past few months, but not much has changed between Nathan and me. He makes love to me every night, often several times over. And in the heat of that passion, I find I’m continually changing, becoming stronger.

  Being with a man like Nate requires a certain amount of strength.

  He’s intense.

  And overwhelming.

  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  I’m his, eternally. And he’s mine.

  And today, we’re about to make that official.

  I run my fingers over the diamond necklace that my father gave me. I don’t take it off. It’s with me all the time, as a reminder of his constant presence in my life.

  And today, I need that reminder more than ever. My Daddy can’t walk me down the aisle. But I have to trust that he’s with me in spirit.

  Tears threaten to flow from my eyes and ruin all my makeup.

  It happens a lot, every time I think of him.

  Even though I passed through the fires of grief, the loss of someone stays with you forever. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over losing him, but I’m certainly happier now than I ever imagined I could be.

  I wipe the tears away before the makeup artist gets finicky with me.

  Who am I to mess with his creation?

  My mom comes in, and she looks gorgeous. She’s wearing the latest designer. And she’s had fun planning the whole affair.

  “Don’t you look gorgeous?” she says coming over to me.

  “You think so?” I say, smoothing the dress over my hips.

  “Absolutely stunning, Sienna. I’m so proud of you,” she says.

  “Okay then, are you ready?” I ask her.

  The stylists fluff and preen my hair and makeup even as I walk out the door.

  I take my mother’s arm, and she leads me down the grand staircase. She’s gonna walk me down the aisle instead of Daddy. But in my heart, both of them are here, giving me away.

  We walk towards the backyard, and my heart begins to thud against my chest.

  Oh my god. I’m about to marry Nathan Sharp. My dream man.

  It’s hard to calm down.

  Nerves and happiness course through me from every angle.

  I feel as though I’m walking on air.

  And yet it’s happening.

  This day is real.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart? Just calm down,” my mother says.

  I try to breathe, try to see straight, but all my emotions are intermixing. I’ve never been so nervous in my entire life.

  I take the bouquet of white lilies and roses that have been made up for me. And then, I turn the corner to stand at the end of the aisle, and I look up and see him.

  He stares at me intently.

  Dark eyes.

  Full lips.

  I walk to him. I started out as his prisoner, and now I find freedom in him.

  Passion.

  Want.

  Desire.

  Need.

  We lock eyes, and my nerves immediately settle.

  I know I’m in exactly the right place.

  I know I’m walking towards my future.

  Nate.

  Stolen

  By Lana Hartley

  Copyright 2018 by Dark Princess 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 is intended for adults only.

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  Jacob

  Leah Waterson is going to look so damn good when she’s looking up at me. By then, the only thing blocking my view of her would be my cock.

  Right now though, I’m on my knees before her, picking up the earbuds that shot from her ears when she whipped her head around. Not expecting me to be in her hallway.

  Well, I wasn’t expecting her to be here at all.

  I’ll probably fire this crew because they didn’t inform me that another person would be on the premises. Though I was going to fire them anyway. I don’t keep a crew.

  After all
, I’m a tech and finance billionaire.

  I don’t need to steal art. Of course, rarely do I need anything.

  Not like the way I need those pink lips she’s biting to be wrapped around my cock. Her delicate porcelain skin is reddening, and she wouldn’t look me in the eye after I pressed the earbud back into her ear.

  “You must be Mrs. Waterson?” I ask, but I know that Mr. Waterson is really her father.

  I heard what he did to his son, and he must be hiding his daughter. Because if this was his wife, he wouldn’t be meeting me right now. He’d be burying his cock in her.

  I lurch inwardly thinking he might be planning to do that later.

  Peter Waterson is a sick fuck.

  Those green-blue eyes look into my own, and my cock is jumping in my slacks to have those eyes looking at me.

  “No,” she says in a soft little voice. “I’m Leah. Peter, um,” she pauses to correct herself. “Mr. Waterson is my father.”

  “I see,” I say, trailing my eyes purposely down her little dress.

  It’s so flimsy. It could be a nightgown, or maybe a sundress.

  It needs to be torn to shreds at her knees while I eat her pussy so good she screams.

  My eyes follow her heaving breasts, noting her heavy breathing, only making her more nervous. It serves to make me more aware of how I’m affecting her. She must see the bulge in my slacks.

  Oh, yes, good girl. She looked.

  She knows the effect she’s had on me.

  I think about her brother. The one Peter sold to a foreign prince to close a deal. He’ll offer this sweet angel up to me all the same.

  I’ll bring Peter to his knees, and he’ll think it was all his idea.

  I’ll be fucking sweet little Leah in the very room she’s headed to, before this night is out, and stupid fucking Peter Waterson will think it’s all his idea. He’ll be doing it to apologize for fucking up our merger.

  That’s why Peter thinks I’m here. He’s my mark, and he fancies himself my rival.

  Though he’s no match for me.

  Generally, I’d be humiliating him in a few weeks by buying his foreclosed house and telling him how the other pieces are going to go nicely with what I already got from his collection. I stole the rare Brival oil on canvas tonight. My crew already gave me the go ahead.

  I glance down at my phone and see the coded message.

  Everything went fine with the art thievery.

  Looking back up from my phone, I make eye contact with Leah.

  “Leah,” I say her name and watch her breathing.

  She’s trying to slow it down. I get the feeling she doesn’t talk to many people. Especially not people who look at her with the pure intent to fuck her like I do.

  “It’s nice meeting you. What are you listening to?”

  “The radio,” she says.

  It’s such a plain answer. Her little voice sounds almost out of practice.

  Fuck, Peter keeps her cloistered. I’ll have her moaning and then screaming for me soon. I’ll keep her, but I’m not going to cage her like this.

  She’s too goddamn beautiful for that.

  “The radio?” I say in a humorous tone.

  “Yes,” she confirms. I see there’s a ticker running on the display.

  “Oh, that’s me there,” I point to several three-letters-in-caps codes for companies on the screen.

  “That’s me, too,” I say.

  Her bewildered look is amusing, and then she looks excited.

  “You’re...Jacob Renaud, of Renaud Holdings?”

  I straighten my jacket and trade a smile with her.

  “Why, yes, I am. Are you one of my shareholders?”

  “Yes, I am,” she says. She’s blushing furiously.

  “Do you trade a lot of stocks?” I ask her, genuinely curious if the princess locked up in the gaudy castle her father owns spends her time on the stock exchange.

  “I mostly hold, but I trade some for quick reinvestment,” she says.

  Now her eyes meet mine, and they narrow.

  “You must know a lot more about stocks than I do.”

  “Yes, and if I tell you what I know, then it’s practically insider trading,” I tell her. “You aren’t a bad girl, are you, Leah?” I tease her and crack my knuckles.

  “Never,” she says, a wistful look in her eyes for a moment.

  Then she starts looking at the floor again.

  “Don’t let me keep you any longer. I’ll be back in a few minutes, you’ll want to finish before the markets open for tomorrow,” I tell her.

  It’s quite late, and I don’t want her thinking about the markets when I’m slapping my balls against her ass and pumping my cock so hard into her.

  She sucks in a breath and looks just past me, worried. As if there’s someone to save her. I’m the thing she’ll need saving from, soon enough, but for now, I’m saving her.

  “I know what happened to your brother.”

  I curl my finger under her chin and make her look up at me.

  “You knew it was going to happen to you.”

  I can see her breathing is far more erratic.

  “Lucky running into you, Leah,” I say with a laugh.

  Oh, it is. To think I was going to take her father’s shitty car. One of the tacky things he loves like he should love his children.

  The payment for the slight will be so much better paid by this sweet little girl.

  Leah shuffles toward her room, wrapping her arms around herself with her phone pressed against her shoulder. She’s so petite, that’s how high her phone reaches. She can’t be more than twenty-three, certainly younger than twenty-five.

  Leah

  I know my father is having one of his business meetings, but I don’t care.

  I don’t care if it bothers him that I have to walk through the hallway and someone might see me. They rarely have, all these years. Plus, I left my phone charger in the kitchen from when I made myself a sandwich for dinner.

  I’d realized that while I liked listening to music instead of the radio, the way I kept switching through songs really had eaten up my battery.

  But in the hallway…

  I’m in my room now, and I still can’t return my breathing to normal. Jacob Renaud, a man I’ve read about through researching some stocks I hold. I’ve considered his holding companies all good investments.

  But I’m gulping now because the investment he’s going to hold is me.

  My father sold my brother, used him to barter some trade deal with a foreign prince. That was that. I was the last bargaining chip my father had. I always knew some day, he’d trade me with less care than I showed the penny stocks I’d started with a long time ago.

  Well, of course, I cared about every investment I made, but my father was going to throw me away like trash that would make someone else happy. He never cared about me.

  Jacob Renaud.

  I’d seen a picture once. I’d found him attractive, of course, but I hadn’t really given him more than a cursory glance. That was impossible, though, when he was standing before me, all hard muscle and very clean lines on his suit.

  He looked incredible. I’d never seen anyone so beautiful in my life.

  He was looking at me like I was already his. Jacob Renaud had said as much. My father would have me traded off for whatever business deal they were doing. That was that.

  Renaud said he’d be back tonight.

  I know he’d let me know that. I need to finish the program I’m listening to, but right now, my holdings are the least of my concerns.

  No, I’m to be the next holding Jacob Renaud would have.

  How dare he! It’s bad enough my father would do such things, and when that prince took my brother away, I was horrified that more than one person in the world could think this was okay.

  But...I’m going to be Jacob’s. And it’s terrifying.

  I’m infuriated that he thought he could own me. He’s going to show me exactly what being his mean
t when he returns.

  I’m a virgin! I don’t know how to do things an actual man would like, even if I wanted to. He was so good looking, it made me dizzy.

  But I didn’t want him just to bend me over and jam his cock in me.

  Based on what I saw in the bulge, that was a sizable cock.

  My father bought expensive women, brought home floozies, and he just jammed his cock in them in whatever location he was in. In this house, he’s done it dozens of times, and then sent them on their way.

  There’s nothing fun or exciting about it, if that’s what Jacob is going to do to me.

  It would probably hurt.

  I try to calm my breathing. I’ve masturbated a lot. I’ve made myself come.

  Maybe it’ll feel good like that, with Jacob. Maybe there’s more to what he had to offer than just shoving his cock in me. Maybe he’d make sure I was wet.

  Dipping my fingers into my panties now, I realize that I’m wet already. Somehow, that doesn’t bring me any comfort, and I dip my finger in my mouth.

  I taste the tangy flavor of my arousal on my fingers and wonder what it’ll be like for that big cock I’d seen outlined on his bulge to be really deep inside of me. More than my little fingers could do.

  That’s when I feel his presence standing right there. My fingers are still in my mouth until I snap my eyes open and see him.

  Oh no—did he see me do that? Maybe he thinks I’m gross, and he doesn’t want me.

  Why am I afraid of Jacob Renaud’s rejection? Or more importantly, why am I scared of knowing what it meant if he did want me?

  “You may not be a bad girl,” he said, closing the distance between us and grabbing my wrist before I could drop my hand to my side. “But you’re a naughty girl.”

  I sucked in a breath, and I couldn’t release it.

  My brain was screaming, and I could barely hear his next words.

  “So, you’re not a virgin? I figured your father would’ve kept you hidden away too well for that to change,” Jacob said.

  I took a moment to comprehend his words and then shook my head.

  “No—I am,” I said, frightened and trembling out my words.

  “That’s interesting,” he said, offering no inflection to explain in any way how he found this interesting.

  His hand squeezed my wrist tightly, and he pulled me toward him by my wrist and with the other hand on my lower back. His mouth crushed against mine, and he kissed me.