Spring Break Bride: A Virgin For The Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance

by Vivien Vale

  Our bodies move together in a perfect tango, like two parts of the same engine built for speed. We’re lubricated with lust and longing and more adrenaline than I’ll need for several lifetimes.

  We are powered by some kind of insane chemistry that would have Braden’s fuel chemists scratching their heads for centuries.

  Love. Just pure, dirty fucking love.

  “Come for me, baby,” Braden growls. “I want you to come with me now.”

  “Braden,” I gasp in sudden realization. “Braden, honey, you can’t.”

  “Watch me.”

  “No,” I say, trying to arch my hips back. It doesn’t work. When Braden wants me, it’s not a like a little wiggling is going to stop him from taking his woman exactly the way he desires. “Braden, honey. I got so caught up in everything, I haven’t taken my birth control. I might get—”

  “Pregnant?” He grabs my hips and pulls me even harder against him so he can hilt himself in my cunt. “Is that what you’re worried about, Jenna? My hot, healthy cum filling you up and giving you a baby?”

  “Yes,” I say through my teeth, even as my cunt starts throbbing at the thought. That’s sex for you.

  Get it from someone as hot and handsome as Braden and mix it together with the right cocktail of hormones, and it makes your body want crazy things.

  “Would that be so bad?” he asks, slowing.

  “For you, it might be.”

  It takes me a minute to realize that he’s stopped fucking me. It takes me another to stop moving my hips and fucking myself on him.

  Braden laughs, watching me blush as I come to my senses and let my hips slow to a stop.

  “So we get you pregnant. So what?”

  “So what? Braden. A baby…”

  “Would be the end of my career?” Braden shrugs, his cock still inside me. “Already over. Yours too, sweetheart. Our little underground racing gig ended tonight, I’m afraid.”

  “But—”

  “You can get another job, sure,” Braden says. “But…you wouldn’t have to.”

  “Braden, I—”

  “Couldn’t bear the thought of becoming a kept woman?” He chuckles as I scowl at him. He needs to stop finishing my arguments for me. “You might like it more than you think. Or, if you were interested…we could always go into business together.”

  I blink at him, shocked.

  “And what business would that be?” I ask.

  He takes my hands in his and presses my fingers against his lips.

  “Something exciting,” he teases.

  “With benefits?”

  His lips shift into a lopsided smile. “I can think of a few off the top of my head.”

  His hips start moving against mine again. His cock feels good and sweet and right inside me. His words are making my heart flutter.

  “Still, Braden…a baby…”

  “You’d make a good mom,” he says, running his thumb over my lower lip.

  “You’d make a terrible dad.” I laugh, but even so, my hips are moving with his again.

  “I’d learn,” he promises.

  There’s something so genuine and raw and eager in his eyes as he says it that I can’t help myself.

  I start to daydream.

  Braden kissing my belly while my stomach swells with his child.

  Braden with our baby cradled in his arms.

  Braden driving slow, checking his mirrors and taking nice, easy turns so our little bundle of joy doesn’t wake up from their nap in the back seat.

  “Fuck,” I swear. “Braden…”

  “Yes, darling?”

  “Do it,” I beg, resting my forehead against his lips. “Put a baby in me.”

  “Sweetheart,” he says and smiles as he kisses me. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  The next few seconds spill over into minutes. The minutes might be hours. Before I know it, I’m coming around Braden’s cock, hard and fast and without any restraint.

  Braden fucks me through the orgasm like he was made to wrack my body with pleasure. Like he’s taking out every last ounce of pent up frustration over the last few days and letting it loose on my cunt in the form of orgasm after orgasm after glorious orgasm.

  “Baby,” he breathes in my ear, “I’m close. I’m so fucking close.”

  “Give it to me,” I moan. “Give me your cum. Put it all in me. Fill me up—”

  “I love you, Jenna. I fucking love you.”

  “I love you too, Braden. Now come for me. Come for me. Fucking—”

  He lets loose on me, like the way his car raced past all the others when the afterburner kicked in. One minute we’re fucking, the next we’re flying.

  His cum pours into me, deeper than I’ve ever known. My cunt takes it all like it’s hungry for his seed, like it needs to be filled.

  Like my body want to be bred.

  I drain him. Completely. I take every drop of Braden’s cum inside my pussy, and he grabs my ankles while he gives it to me.

  He takes them in his hands and uses them as leverage to push his cum as deep inside me as my body will allow. He holds them thereafter, like he’s trying to tilt all of his cum directly into my womb.

  “I love you,” he keeps saying, over and over like a mantra. A prayer. “I love you. I love you. I fucking love you.”

  “I love you too.” I half laugh, half sob as he collapses against me.

  I shower him with kisses, more than either of us can count. It’s like I can’t stop. I can’t get enough of the feel of my lips against his skin.

  “There,” he says with a hard, final thrust. “Now you’re mine.”

  “Oh, honey. I was yours a long time ago.”

  “Hours?”

  “Days. At the very least.”

  He doesn’t respond. He just buries his face in my breasts, kissing whatever skin he can find.

  “It might not take, you know,” I remind him. Pregnancy is a weird thing, after all. I don’t want him to get his hopes up if a few weeks from now, it turns out that there’s no little Masterson growing inside me.

  “Hmm,” Braden muses. “Then I guess I’ll just have to try again, won’t I?”

  “How noble of you,” I tease.

  “Incredibly,” he agrees. “I’ll just have to fill my woman up every morning, afternoon, and night until she gives me a son.”

  “Or a daughter.” I giggle as he nibbles on my shoulder.

  “Doesn’t matter. As long they’re ours.”

  My chest heaves as I take a big inhale and exhale it slowly. I feel like my lungs are full of helium. Like if it wasn’t for Braden’s body on top of mine, I might float away entirely.

  “Are you sure we’re not taking things too fast, Braden?” I ask, searching for scraps of reality in this insane, blissed-out state.

  “Jenna, honey, have you met me?” Branden grins down at me. He’s got an incredible smile. This is the brightest I’ve ever seen it shine. “Fast is kind of my M.O.”

  When he kisses me, it feels like campfire burning through the middle of the night.

  Chapter 38

  Jenna

  I wrap up my little speech to my pupils as their eyes glaze over. I know when to stop. It is also time to call it quits anyway. Our lesson for the day is over. Parents are waiting to pick up their charges.

  “Okay, guys,” I say, and smile brightly. “Time to call it a day. Don’t forget to read over today’s notes. It’s just as important to know how your engine works as it is to drive.”

  Braden teaches them how to drive and I teach them about the mechanics of the engine.

  When we first thought of opening a driving school, I wasn’t sure what my role would be. It was Braden who suggested we incorporate theory with practice. It was he who said knowing about the workings of the engine was just as important as driving. And he was right.

  The students grumble something that could be agreement or something else. It’s too hard to tell. But I don’t care. I know they’re learning.

 
; Braden gives them a nod and they leave. He walks with them to their parents. I watch like a proud parent. It’s more rewarding to teach than I first thought it would be.

  If someone told me a year ago I’d enjoy teaching students about cars, engines and stuff, I would have told them they were crazy. And yet here I am. Here we are. Braden has taken to his new role like a fish to water.

  I love that about him. He doesn’t just say good-bye to his students; no, he makes sure they’re taken to their parents. Sometimes he exchanges a few words with a mother or a father of one of our students. Obviously one of the reasons we’ve become so successful.

  Our driving school is thriving. We’ve had to create a waiting list, that’s how popular it is.

  When Braden first had the idea, I wasn’t sure at all. But just like with most other things, Braden was pretty convincing.

  I watch him bound back to me. His lips are curled into a devilish smile. He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the office.

  “You do know how exquisitely sexy you look in that black top and tight skirt?”

  His fingers flick my hair off my face. I laugh. I pretend to smack his fingers, which accidentally brush against my breasts on the way back from my hair.

  In return he grabs me harder.

  “You can’t get away from me,” he mutters and locks the door.

  As soon as he turns back to me, he pulls my top off. Then he strides to the blinds to pull them down. Quick as flash, he comes back and unclasps my bra.

  Then his lips lock onto mine. I melt into him, ecstasy gripping me, and I arch against him. Just like the first time we kissed, I fall under his spell. His lips are demanding and his tongue pushes past my lips and starts to duel with mine.

  I don’t hold back. I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. He holds me tight by my hips.

  As I drown in the intensity of his passion, I can’t help but think of my state. There’s a slight hesitation in me. I think about the life growing inside me right now. I can’t believe I’m almost twenty weeks pregnant. I press my belly against Braden, keen on sharing the experience with him.

  Braden’s lips leave mine. They go down to my breast, where they start sucking. Soon someone else will be demanding access to this. The thought is very strange. I giggle, wondering how Braden will feel about that.

  But his hands, which are exploring my body, distract me. Fingers caress my back and squeeze my ass. I groan and fumble with the button on his pants. I need to free his throbbing cock.

  When I get it undone, I push his pants down onto the floor. With incredible nimbleness, Braden steps out of them. He pushes me backwards toward the desk. His teeth are biting on my nipples. My hands reach for his cock.

  His mouth leaves my breasts and moves up toward my neck. Butterfly-like, he kisses me all over. My pussy is so wet and ready for him I can barely contain myself.

  Without asking, Braden pushes my back onto the table. He stops. I glance at him. His eyes are fixed on my tummy. So far there’s only a little bulge, barely visible. Those who don’t know I’m pregnant can’t see much. Sure, my clothes have become a little tighter, but I don’t have the huge ball sticking out in front yet.

  Gently, softly and full of love, Braden puts both hands on my belly. He smiles. His eyes light up. Briefly I grab onto his hands, and we’re all connected—the baby, him and me. A little family.

  “You okay?” His voice is husky, his eyes full of lust and desire.

  I nod.

  “Fuck me, Braden, please. Fuck me now.”

  His hands move to my pussy, where they’re met with my slick juices.

  I groan and thrust my hip up toward him. I want his cock in me right fucking now. I want to fuck him so bad it hurts.

  His fingers play with my clit and tease me to the point of orgasm. The lips of my pussy are shuddering against his fingers. I don’t want to come, not just yet.

  I pull him toward me. This means he’s partly lying on me. I kiss him again. I demand entry to his mouth and explore it like I’ve never been in it before.

  His cock is pressing against my pussy. We were made for each other. Braden adjusts his position to shove his cock inside me.

  His hands are holding my hips. He slams against me. I can feel his balls hitting my skin. He thrusts deep and hard, in and out.

  I throw my head back in sheer pleasure. His hands leave my hips and grab my breasts. He massages them and keeps thrusting.

  Braden grunts, and I know he must be close to coming. I use my fingers to find my clit as he keeps thrusting in and out. I love his cock inside me and I love when his hands play with my nipples. My pussy is starting to spasm against his cock.

  Since I found out I’m pregnant, fucking Braden has become even more intense. My orgasms are even more extraordinary. It’s beyond words.

  I lift my head to look at him. His muscles are tense. I can feel his passion with each powerful thrust.

  It won’t be much longer before I come. He’s getting close, too. I can feel it.

  He slows down a little. Then he stops. His breathing is hard and fast. His lips find mine. He whispers into my ear. “You still okay?”

  The tenderness is overwhelming, and I almost cry. I nod. I may be pregnant, but I still feel the need to have him come inside me.

  “Do it, Braden. Don’t stop fucking me. I want you to come inside me,” I demand, and thrust my hips to meet him.

  Braden starts again. My fingers now dig into his back. I’m so close to the edge.

  His rhythm is increasing. I feel the orgasm build deep within me. My muscles tense just as he starts to tense up as well. We come together. Shockwave after shockwave of pleasure rips through me. I groan and moan in ecstasy. All of me is tingling with pleasure. Brandon calls out my name as his muscles start to spasm and he empties his hot cum into my pussy.

  The pleasure wave we ride is fucking unbelievable, and as he finishes, he lays down on top of me, gently.

  I kiss him on the neck. He’s breathing heavy and I feel his sweaty chest against mine.

  I wrap my arms around him, overcome with emotions.

  “I love you,” he whispers into my ear.

  “I love you, too,” I whisper back.

  I watch him grab his clothes and put on his pants again. He helps me up and his eyes linger on my little baby bump.

  “You okay, little fella?’

  I laugh. He’s going to be such an awesome father. I can feel it in my gut and heart.

  I pull my clothes back on. Life’s good. No, life’s great. Perfect.

  “Ready?” He holds out his hand and I take it. I smile at him.

  We head out the door together to go for our customary evening drive. I glance out the window before looking at Braden as he manoeuvres the car along the road.

  His skilful fingers are pure poetry in motion. I love watching him drive a car.

  We’ve come a long way. We’ve mellowed a fair bit, and I can’t wait to welcome the newest member of our family into the world. Will it be a wild child like his or her father?

  I smile. It doesn’t matter.

  I turn to Baden. “Do you miss our wild days?”

  He smiles and puts his hand on my thigh.

  “What’re you talking about? Sounds like you’re talking past tense. We’re still living our wild days, and they’re about to get wilder.”

  We both laugh and I grab a hold of his hand to give it a squeeze. Like I said, life’s absolutely perfect.

  Double Feature

  By Daphne Dawn

  Copyright 2017 by Crimson Vixens

  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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  Kayla

>   I squeeze my stress ball in total frustration. What has happened to the day? About an hour ago, after my usual morning jog, I felt like I could take on the world.

  I was ready to put fingers to keyboard and watch the words fly onto the screen, but now I’m sit-ting in my office, and nothing is happening.

  My gaze travels, and I contemplate the elaborate certificate displaying my name and its various meanings, a present from my mother some years ago—one she bought during her travels to Cairo. It used to be at home, but when I took this job, with my own office and view, I decided to hang it up at work.

  According to the elaborate gold-lettered writing, Kayla has several different meanings, depending on what country you look to. To some, it means “wise one.”

  I have to say…I don’t feel particularly wise this morning. Time’s ticking, and I’m not producing.

  With a sigh, I randomly hit some keys on my keyboard so my screen no longer looks so white and empty.

  As I bring my coffee to my lips, I cringe. Can the day get any worse? I hate cold coffee.

  I bite my bottom lip.

  I haven’t produced anything this morning, and I cannot justify a coffee break already. My eyes look at the little clock in the top right-hand corner of my computer. Maybe if I write for thirty minutes, I can reward myself with a break and get a fresh, strong, and hot coffee.

  My fingers hover over the keyboard. I don’t know how long they stay there without moving. With a sigh, I rummage around the top drawer of my desk, looking for a notepad.

  Sometimes words seem to flow faster and better if I use the old-fashioned writing tools: pen and paper.

  Slowly I unscrew the top of my gold nib fountain pen. I draw a few swirly lines to make sure there is still ink in it. Good, no further excuses.

  Part of me had hoped that lack of ink would mean I’d have to duck out and buy some more. But alas, I really have run out of stalling tactics.

  And so I let the pen do the work. Suddenly, a few scenes come to mind, and I make random notes.