First Comes Love: A Billionaires, Brides, and Babies Romance

by Alexis Angel

  I know it’s impossible, so I’ll take what I can get. “Please, Dominic.”

  He doesn’t answer with words.

  Instead, he grabs my hips and lifts me up, spinning me around until I’m straddling his lap, his hard cock wedging against my throbbing pussy. Then his hands dive back into my hair, gripping the back of my head and yanking me forward.

  He drags his teeth along my jaw until he reaches my lips. He nips at them lightly, teasingly. Then all restraint is gone as he crushes me against him, devouring my mouth. Doing exactly what he said—erasing everything that ever came before him. I’m not sure I’ll ever be the same.

  Dominic

  Longest fucking train ride of my life. When we finally make it back above ground, I tuck Poppy into my side and tear up the sidewalk, covering the distance to my apartment as if my life depends on it.

  And it feels like it does.

  As if I’m going to come unhinged if I don’t get her upstairs and naked Right. This. Second.

  When I get her inside, I haul her up against me, ready to explode.

  It’s a desperate clash of arms and mouths and tongues and teeth, the pent-up need I’ve fought for so long taking over me like I’m a man possessed. And that’s exactly what I am. I’m completely possessed by this woman writhing in my arms as we struggle to free ourselves of the clothes that are keeping us apart.

  Her shirt is gone in an instant, and I dispose of her jeans almost as quickly. She toes off her shoes, and she’s left standing before me in nothing but that scrap of lace, just like she was less than an hour ago.

  “Never again, Poppy,” I bite out. “You will never take your clothes off for any man but me.”

  I don’t even know what that means for us, but I know damn well that’s how I feel.

  She doesn’t argue, just tugs at the hem of my shirt, as desperate as I am to remove the barriers. I yank it off, then dig my fingers into her hips, pulling her against me until her firm tits are crushed against my chest. Fucking finally.

  I run my hands down to her ass, then hoist her up. Her legs wrap around my waist, her hips grinding against my cock. I head toward the bedroom as I lose myself in the feeling of her hot mouth on mine and the taste of her luscious lips.

  I set her down on my bed, her blonde hair floating out around her like a halo. She looks like an angel spread before me, and I want to plunder and ravage and take.

  But I also want this moment to be everything I ever dreamed it would be. I want to take my time with her, not rush, savoring every single touch and taste.

  “Gorgeous,” I murmur as I run my eyes over her perfect body.

  Poppy squirms on the bed, needy and desperate.

  “You want me, don’t you, baby?”

  “Yes,” she breathes, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard a more perfect word.

  I grab her hips and pull her to the edge of the bed, my heated gaze raking over her. “These have to go,” I say, hooking a finger in her panties and dragging them down her thighs.

  Then I part her legs, wedging myself in between them. She’s so hot I can feel her heat through the fabric of my jeans. My cock strains, begging to be freed, to plunge inside her. She’s so fucking wet I can see her juices glistening all over her perfect pink pussy.

  “I need you now, Dom.”

  I chuckle somewhat wickedly because I plan on drawing this out as long as possible.

  Bending down, I capture her tit in my mouth, drawing her hard nipple into my mouth, sucking and flicking my tongue until she writhes, her fingers tangled in my hair. I watch her face as her head tips back, her mouth dropping open with a wild moan.

  She’s making me crazy, seeing her like this. Completely surrendering to me.

  I squeeze her other tit, rolling the nipple between my thumb and forefinger, then I raise my head and capture her mouth in another kiss. Our tongues tangle and dance, our desperation making us violent and aggressive. I clamp my teeth over her full bottom lip and pull, and her hips buck up against me.

  Trailing my mouth down her neck, between the valley of her tits, and lower across her smooth stomach, I push her legs wider with my hands.

  She whimpers, knowing where I’m headed. I smile against her inner thigh. “You ready for this, baby? I’m going to make you cum so hard on my face. And when I’m done, I’m going to fill you up until you cum all over my cock.

  Her throaty moan urges me on, and I dip my head down to taste her sweet pussy. I groan at the first taste. “So good,” I murmur. How can she taste so good? And how have I gone my whole life not knowing what this sweet nectar tastes like? It’s addictive. I can’t get enough. I lick and suck her until she’s climbing higher and higher, her hands fisted in my bed covers as her head thrashes side to side. Desperate pants fall from her mouth, pleas and murmurs that beg for more.

  Needing to feel her, to be inside her in some way, I thrust two fingers deep into her channel. Her hips come up off the bed, pushing her clit up into my face. I flick it with my tongue as I stroke her inner walls, the soft velvet clenching over and over again on my fingers as her climax takes over.

  “Oh god, Dom. Yes! Oh fuck. Yes, fuck me, Dom.”

  Jesus Christ, those words falling from those lips nearly have me coming in my pants. It’s so fucking hot and so fucking perfect, and when she finally comes down from the crest, aftershocks wracking her body, I rid myself of the jeans that are keeping me from her. I grab a condom, ready to slide home.

  She stops me with a hand on my wrist, and I look up at her, her beautiful face even more angelic with the bliss of an orgasm fresh across her features.

  She shakes her head, and I start to worry she’s having second thoughts.

  But then she makes my day—no my whole fucking life—when she leans forward and wraps her fingers around my cock and says, “My turn.”

  Poppy

  How many times have I got myself off to the fantasy of sucking Dom’s cock? I’ve lost count. But I’m about to do it now. Really and truly.

  I stare down at him as I stroke my fist up and down. I was right. He’s huge. Like mind-bogglingly, make-me-cum-with-one-look huge. My pussy clenches again. I want him inside me so badly. But first, first I want to make him feel as good as he just made me feel.

  I push against his chest until he takes a step back, and I slide to my knees in front of him.

  Dom groans, his fingers twining in my hair again, gripping my head in desperation. “Fuck, baby. You don’t have to do this.”

  I look up at him, darting my tongue out to lick the bead of precum on his thick head, my eyes wide and innocent as I stare into his face. “Oh, you don’t want me to?” I tease, squeezing the base of his shaft for emphasis.

  He bites out a laugh. “You’re going to kill me, woman.”

  I grin. “I can stop if you want.” Another flick of my tongue.

  A growl rips from his throat. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

  “That’s what I thought.” I lick him from base to tip, reveling in the sense of power that I feel that I’m able to make this man so hungry, so desperate. It’s crazy. I never would have thought that I would be the one to do this to him.

  He grips my head more firmly, and I take him into my mouth, running my tongue over the ridge of his head, then lowering myself further, wanting to take as much of him as I can.

  Dom thrusts into my mouth, shoving my head hard against his cock, and I cry out in surprise, then moan around him as he fills my mouth with his thickness.

  “Sorry, baby,” he murmurs, “you just feel so fucking good.”

  I want to smile that I make him lose control like this. I wrap my fist tightly around the base of his shaft and pump him while I work my mouth up and down him until his breath is coming in sharp gasps. Just when I think I’m about to send him over the edge, he yanks me up, pulling me to my feet and wrapping his arms around me.

  “Don’t want to cum like that,” he growls, lifting my arms above my head and running his hands down my sides.


  He spins me around and bends me over the bed, then I feel his hard cock swiping through my folds, teasing me.

  “Please,” I whimper when the tease gets to be too much.

  I hear him rip open the condom wrapper, then a couple seconds later I feel him pressing against me. I push back, so, so ready.

  He pushes just the tip inside me, running his hands back up my sides and arms, then he grips my wrists and holds them in one hand above me, pinning them to the bed. Grabbing my hip with his other hand, he slams into me, filling me in one swift stroke.

  I cry out, feeling full in the very best way.

  Then Dom begins to move inside me, stroking my pussy in fast, furious pumps, driving me to the edge of insanity in a matter of moments.

  The angle he’s hitting is perfect, and suddenly I’m hurtling over the cliff, my pussy clenching and clamping as it tightens around his thickness. I moan his name over and over, the sheer ecstasy better than anything I ever imagined.

  I start to come down from the orgasm, but he doesn’t let me get far before he pulls out, flips me around and tosses me higher up on the bed. Then he’s crawling up and over me, his face going intense. Serious. Passionate.

  “Poppy,” he whispers, running a finger along my cheek. And what I see in his eyes is everything I ever hoped for. Everything I know is wrong because he’s my stepbrother.

  But I don’t know how it can be wrong when it feels so very right.

  Dom lowers himself to his forearms, framing my face, and slowly slides himself back inside me. Both of our breaths rush out, mingling in the intense energy that’s suddenly between us. This moment is everything.

  He moves slowly, drawing out our pleasure, his eyes never leaving mine as he fucks me in a way that feels a whole lot like making love.

  I watch as all the emotion I’m feeling crosses over his face like a mirror. He feels it too.

  Then he wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my neck, and we both shatter into a million pieces as we cum together, but somehow, I feel more whole than I ever have.

  After a while, he lifts his head and presses a soft, gentle kiss to my lips.

  “Mine,” his whispers, in awe, as if he can’t believe it.

  And I know it’s true. I’m his. I always have been. And I always will.

  Part Six

  Celine & Wes

  Celine

  My heart jumps up into my throat as the train comes to a stop. I glance out the window, then sigh in relief when I see I’m not at my stop yet. I’ve been trying to disappear into my own head for the past twenty minutes on the ride in from Brooklyn, trying not to think about what I’m about to do.

  There’s still time to back out.

  I bite my lip, wondering if I’ve lost my mind. Who the hell auctions off their virginity?

  Broke-ass chicks who are one step away from spending their last hundred bucks on a bus ride back to Kansas, apparently.

  I close my eyes again and draw a deep breath. Well, I try to, but my chest feels like a thousand pound anvil is resting on it.

  “You okay?” a smooth voice says softly from right beside me.

  My eyes fly open again, and I turn quickly to see if the man is talking to me. And immediately wish I hadn’t.

  As if I’m not already a bundle of nervous energy, seeing this ridiculously hot guy next to me has my erratic heartbeat ratcheting up even higher.

  I offer a small smile and nod, not quite meeting his eyes, then I grit my teeth. This right here is exactly why I’m still a virgin. I’m barely able to look at a guy, much less speak. Flirting is entirely out of the question.

  “You sure?” He quirks a dark eyebrow at me, a cocky smirk spreading across his face—his gorgeous, make-me-sin face. “You look like you’re ready to jump off this train while it’s still moving.”

  “That obvious?” I ask, finding my voice.

  He shrugs. “Maybe it’s the way you’ve nearly chewed your finger off since I’ve been sitting here watching you.”

  Watching me? How long has he been watching me? I look down at my fingernails and cringe. So much for that manicure. Now I get to be an awkward as fuck virgin up on stage in addition to having mangled nails.

  “I’m Wes,” he says, that smirk still in place.

  And damn it, if he doesn’t have my heart stuttering again. His eyes are an unusual greenish-grey, and they have me hypnotized.

  The smirk grows wider. “And you are?”

  “Oh,” I say, my face flushing as I jerk my gaze from him. “Celine. I’m Celine.”

  I look all around the train, trying to focus on anything but Wes. He has me totally flustered. I just don’t know how to act around men.

  So why the hell are you about to sell yourself to one?

  I press my lips together, wishing for the millionth time there was another solution. But this is it. If I want to stay in New York and have a real chance at the life I want, I need money.

  It’s not like the first time is supposed to be special anyway, right? It’s just an initiation. Like jumping into a freezing pool. You acclimate, and things get better after that. Best to just get it over with so I can move on to the fun part.

  Except I can’t even hold a conversation with Wes here, so I don’t know that the having fun part is coming my way anytime soon.

  “What are you doing tonight?” Wes draws my attention again. Apparently, he isn’t catching on to the fact that I can’t seem to form a coherent sentence.

  I shift uncomfortably. “Just going to this club,” I mumble.

  That seems to interest him. He leans in closer. “Me too. What club?” There’s a spark in his eye.

  Shit. Why did I have to say that? Like I really want to tell this stranger that I’m going to some underground club where they auction off women for sex.

  Wes seems really nice. Someone that I might like under another circumstance. You know, if I wasn’t trying to psych myself up to hand in my V-card. Or if I didn’t become a bumbling mess in the presence of his kind of sexiness.

  “What do you do, Celine?” He changes the subject, obviously aware that I don’t feel comfortable telling him where I’m going. But that question isn’t much better.

  I don’t have a job. This is my last ditch effort to make enough money to go to school at NYU. And if things work out well enough with the auction, the lady I spoke with said there were other exclusive opportunities to make money. Whatever that means. I was afraid to ask.

  “Your mother must have really drilled it into your head not to talk to strangers,” he teases, flashing a lopsided grin that makes his entire face look less intimidating. He reaches down and twirls a lock of my hair around his finger.

  Even though I would normally be even more freaked out than I already am by his attention, I can’t help smiling back at him this time. That smile is totally disarming.

  “You’ve got me,” I say, laughing. “And I’m nothing if not a good girl that follows the rules.”

  He hums. “Just what I thought.”

  I think I see a flicker of something in his eyes, something heated and greedy, but it’s gone in a flash.

  “College student,” I blurt out, then want to smack myself for being so inept at simple conversation. Again, no surprise here that I’m still a virgin.

  His eyebrows lift in amusement, and I continue. “That’s what I do. You asked what I do,” I add awkwardly. It’s almost true. It will be after tonight.

  “What do you study?”

  “Screenwriting.” I don’t know why I tell him that. I don’t usually tell anyone that, afraid they’ll think it’s ridiculous.

  Wes smiles again. “You know, Celine, I’d love to take you out for coffee sometime. Get to know you better.”

  I shake my head quickly. “I can’t. I have to be somewhere.”

  “Me too,” he says, almost regretfully. “How about tomorrow?”

  “Yes,” I find myself saying before I can think better of it. God, what am I thinking? I can’t go have coffee
with this guy. After tomorrow I may end up being some kind of escort or something.

  The thought makes my stomach churn.

  “Perfect,” he says, pulling out a card and pressing it into my palm as the train slows to a stop.

  I look up. This is where I get off.

  I didn’t want to do this to begin with, but now after talking with Wes, I really don’t. Figures that the first time I’m able to have a real conversation with a hot guy it would be on my way to auction off my virginity.

  Wes

  Strolling slowly toward the club, I can’t get my mind off Celine. I should have gotten her number. She might never call me. Not that I should care. I don’t get hung up on any one girl. In fact, I’m willing to pay the highest price to ensure that not only do the girls I’m with know there’s no chance of it being anything more than sex, but I also have a very particular kind of girl I like.

  But my dick doesn’t seem to remember that. It’s completely focused on the memory of that sweet, shy girl on the train. I continue down the sidewalk, stepping to the side when a group of burly guys in western gear, complete with cowboy hats, passes by me going in the opposite direction. It barely registers, even though they should stand out like a sore thumb in this city. But that’s New York for you. A little bit of everything.

  Instead of wondering about them, my mind goes straight back to Celine. Screenwriting. I smile. That was my dream once upon a time. Before I got dragged into the grittier, darker businesses that thrive in basements and old buildings. Before I headed up Pure, the most elite escort service in Manhattan. We specialize in auctions. Of the virgin variety.

  I should be glad I didn’t get Celine’s number. Because pure is exactly what she seemed to me. And I have no business messing up yet another girl. I do that enough every day of the week.