by Sara Cate
He wraps a palm around mine and makes me squeeze him just under his tip, twisting lightly until cum starts beading from the tip. I can’t tear my gaze away as he helps me get him off, showing me exactly how he likes it.
It’s hot, and it doesn’t take long before he’s muttering and moaning and peeling my hand away until I’m on my back and his body, proudly displayed in all its sculpted beauty, is hovering over me.
“Hook your leg around my waist,” he directs, helping me get it where he commands. One of his large palms stays wrapped around it as the other plays with my clit and makes me squirm until my legs open wider.
He reaches down to grab something from his jeans, hovering over me again with a condom in his grasp. Using his teeth to open it, he takes out the rubber and tells me how to slide it on him until he’s fully sheathed.
Dropping down until one of his forearms is on one side of my head, he grazes our noses and trails soft kisses over my both corners of my lips before taking my mouth. With his free hand, he guides himself to my entrance and slowly pushes in.
Capturing the sharp inhale from me, he twists our tongues until he works himself in.
With one hand back on my leg to keep it around his waist, he pulls back enough to study my pinched features. “You okay?” His question is light as he presses a kiss against the tip of my head as I nod.
He gives me a few seconds to adjust before I squeeze his shoulders and watch him start moving. It’s nowhere near as hard or fast as the first time, or the time after. It’s slow and gentle. I feel him deep, and once the lick of pain eases into pleasure again, I tilt my head back and soak up every thrust that takes him deeper inside of me.
I’m subconscious of laying too still or being too quiet, and I struggle on figuring out where to put my hands.
“Don’t be shy. Put your hands on me. Explore. Pull my hair. Scratch my back. It only makes me want to fuck you harder.” His hot breath against my neck makes me shiver as his hips pick up the pace and start moving faster until our skin slaps loudly.
My hands trail over his shoulders and down his blades until my fingertips run up and down his spine. He shivers and groans, murmuring my name until something inside of him snaps.
And just like he said, he loses it.
He picks himself up until he’s kneeling in front of me, taking the leg around his waist and drawing it up to my chest and jackknifing into me harder until his face and neck are red.
Every time he hits that spot, I see dots in my eyes, but when he asks, “Are you close?” it fades away like an unconscious decision.
I can tell he’s about to come, so I urge him on until he’s biting his lip and gripping my hips until he thrusts once, twice, a third time, before slamming into me and emptying himself into the condom.
Just when I think he’s done, he pulls out, picks up my hips, and buries his face between my legs like he did the first time. Using his tongue and teeth and lips, he brings me to the edge until I’m panting his name and squeezing his head with my thighs until an orgasm crashes into me.
With wet lips, he looks up at me with a deadly, mischievous look on his face. “You better get ready, Addy. I’m not done yet.”
He brushes hair behind my ear as he crawls up my body, trailing kisses up my stomach, between my breasts, all the way until he meets my mouth. He licks my lips, my tongue, and makes me taste myself.
There’s a grin on his lips when he pushes himself up to look down at my sated expression as I lay bared to him. I’m not sure what he’s thinking before I’m flipped over onto my knees, my hands being planted onto the back cushion of the couch as his body comes up behind me.
My cheeks flush. “Again?”
He switches his condom for a new one and positions himself behind me until the head of his cock is probing my pussy again. “You should hold on, babe. This is going to be rough.”
And it is.
Fast.
Hard.
Addicting as hell.
I arch my back as he takes me from behind, drilling into me and grunting as he plays with my boobs, then my clit, until I’m clenching around him.
My legs grow weak as he grips my hips and pumps into me, the sensation from the last orgasm making me supersensitive to the one building rapidly as he pinches my clit.
I gasp out his name as he enters me a few more times and collapses into my back as we both find release, our sweaty bodies barely able to breathe as we fall to our sides and spoon on the small couch.
His lips press against the crook of my neck as he lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m looking forward to a lot more of that.”
I giggle. “I bet you are.”
“Merry Christmas, Addy.”
About the Author
B. Celeste’s obsession with all things forbidden and taboo enabled her to pave a path into a new world of raw, real, emotional romance.
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Her debut novel is The Truth about Heartbreak.
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Check out her website: www.authorbceleste.com
Also by B. Celeste:
The Truth about Heartbreak
The Truth about Tomorrow
The Truth about Us
Underneath the Sycamore Tree
Where the Little Birds Go
Where the Little Birds Are
Into the Clear Water
Color Me Pretty
Tell Me When It’s Over
Tell Me Why It’s Wrong
Dare You to Hate Me
Bittersweet Revenge
BY CATHARINA MAURA
“Bittersweet Revenge”
An age gap romance
* * *
When her boyfriend breaks her heart, Alanna goes after his older brother in a quest for revenge.
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It would’ve been simple… if he wasn’t also her soon-to-be boss.
Chapter 1
Alanna
* * *
“He’s here again,” Savannah says, a dreamy expression in her eyes. She sighs happily as she leans over the counter, her head propped up on her elbow. I follow her gaze curiously, finding a handsome stranger seated in the corner of the coffee shop. He looks like he’s far too big for the small chair, yet it doesn’t seem to bother him. He’s got his laptop in front of him, his gaze intense.
He looks up, and my heart does this funny thing, almost as though it skips. His eyes are the darkest green I’ve ever seen. They’re the color of expensive emeralds. Everything about this man screams luxury. He’s got cheekbones straight out of a magazine, and that hair… I bet it’d feel amazing to run your hair through that. He smiles at me, and I tense as I force a polite smile before dragging my eyes away.
“He’s been watching you ever since you started your shift,” Savannah says, a crestfallen expression on her face. “He’s been sitting there for hours, pretending like he isn’t watching you, when you’re so obviously all he can see. I should know. I’ve tried catching his attention more times than I can count.”
I glance back at him, surprised. He looks unattainable. It’s not just the obviously expensive suit, or the way he sits at that tiny table with his laptop that probably costs more than I spend on rent every month. It isn’t even his ridiculously good looks, that dark hair or those cheekbones. It’s something else. Something I can’t quite pin down.
Men like that don’t pay attention to girls like me.
“I have a boyfriend, remember?” I murmur as I finish making a mocha for one of our other regulars. Oat milk. Extra shot of caramel. She orders the exact same thing every single day, and there’s a strange sense of comfort in that. “Here you go, Michelle,” I tell her as I hand her the mug.
Savannah smiles and tilts her head as she stares at me, a curious look in her eyes. “I never understood why you would date Ryan. Is it the money?”
I tense involuntarily and clench my jaw, swallowing down the insult. I can’t blame her for thinking it. At least she isn’t gossiping behind my back like everyone else is. Ryan is
filthy rich, and I’m just a nobody. It’s no surprise to me that everyone around us thinks I’m a gold digger, but it doesn’t ever hurt any less.
“No, of course not. I know he’s a bit… rough around the edges, but when he’s with me he’s wonderful. He treats me well, and he’s kind.”
She stares at me as though she’s trying to figure me out, and it immediately has me feeling defensive. “He’s a good man,” I tell her, keeping my voice cheerful.
Ryan is different. He keeps people at a distance and uses his wealth as a shield. But underneath that? Underneath the extravagance and the occasional obnoxiousness, he’s a genuinely good person. He comes help at the soup kitchen I volunteer at every once in a while, and just last week we spent a day collecting plastic on the beach. It was a perfect day — he was perfect that day. I just wish others could see it too. I wish they could see the version I see, and not the one he insists on showing the world.
My shoulders slump in relief when four girls walk in, chatting and laughing about their latest book boyfriend. I smile as I grab cups for them, writing their names before they even reach the counter. Nicole, Sara, Gladys and Megan always order the exact same thing. They sit and chat for hours, each of them trying to lay claim on the main character of whatever book they just read. Just seeing them brings a smile to my face. The friendship they share warms my heart, but it’s their kindness that always brings a smile to my face.
“You have to read this, Alanna,” Nicole says, holding up a paperback that looks pristine. I’ve never dared accept one of her books because it’s obvious she handles them reverently. I wouldn’t even be surprised if they’re all signed.
I’m too clumsy. I’d spill coffee on her book and she’d hate me forever. I smile at her as I decline her offer. Her smile drops just a fraction, but it’s back in place as soon as I hand her her coffee. I have no doubt these girls have made it their personal mission to get me to read one of their books, and by the determined look in their eyes, I know I’m destined to cave someday.
I tense when the green-eyed stranger rises from his seat. I can feel his eyes on me, and a shiver runs down my spine. He makes me nervous, and it’s rare for anyone to have that effect on me.
His eyes never leave me as he walks up to me. By the time he reaches the counter, my heart is racing, and it unsettles me. Something about him leaves me feeling thrown.
“Alanna,” he says, his voice deep as he draws out my name. He smiles at me, and I tense. Most people are so absorbed in their thoughts and their own day as they order a coffee, that they don’t even look me in the eye. His intensity is unsettling.
“Could I ask you to make me a long black, please? To go, please.”
I smile involuntarily. There’s something so sexy about politeness, especially coming from a man like that — someone whose cufflinks could likely pay for a month’s worth of groceries.
“Of course.” I smile at him as I grab a cup, and for a second, our eyes lock. “What’s your name?” I ask, my voice soft.
He hesitates for a split second before speaking. “Simon.”
I drag my gaze away, moving to hide behind the massive coffee machine as I write his name on the paper cup.
I’m flustered. I rarely get flustered. Even Ryan complains that he rarely succeeds in making me blush, yet here I am… feeling out of it because of a stranger. This is weird, and I feel guilty instantly.
I grit my teeth as I pour his coffee into his cup, my eyes drifting up to the large clock opposite me. Thank God, this shift is done now. I’ve got so many class notes to get through, and then there’s tonight’s dinner. It’s the first time I’m meeting any of Ryan’s family members, and truthfully, he seems more nervous about it than I am. I can’t help but wonder if Ryan’s family thinks I’m a gold-digger too.
It’s all I can think about as I hand Simon his cup. He takes it from me, his gaze inquisitive, but my thoughts are elsewhere. I hope I’ll make a good impression tonight, but there’s this niggling sense of unease I can’t push aside. I’ve always trusted my intuition, and I can’t help but feel like tonight is going to be a disaster.
I bite down on my lip as I take off my apron and walk into the staff room to grab my bag. By the time I walk out of the coffee shop, I’m overthinking everything. It took me an entire week and close to two weeks’ worth of my salary to select an outfit, yet now all of a sudden I wonder if I might end up looking like I’m trying too hard. I’m worried they might not like me, and that they won’t be able to see past my messed up upbringing. They won’t want their son to date an orphan, will they?
I’m so lost in thought that it takes me a moment to heed the warnings my intuition is sending me. I blink as I realize that I’m not alone in the narrow alley that leads to the bus stop, and a chill runs down my spine.
I pause and inhale shakily as I turn decisively. In my experience, most weirdos will let you be if they think you’ll put up a fight or confront them. My eyes find the man behind me, his dark green eyes squarely on mine.
“Simon,” I murmur, before straightening my shoulders. Savannah’s words ring through my mind again. You’re so obviously all he can see. A chill runs down my spine as I stare him down. He pauses and raises his brow. “Are you following me?”
Chapter 2
Silas
* * *
Alanna glares at me, and the dim lights in the alleyway just make her look even more beautiful.
I take a moment to drink her in and smile, enjoying the way her bravado wavers as her eyes widen ever so slightly.
“Me? Following you?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
I wonder what she sees when she looks at me. Does she see beyond the expensive clothes? Does she see me, or does she see Silas Sinclair, CEO of Sinclair Security.
She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. My eyes drop down to her chest and I swallow hard. She’s so fucking beautiful. I take my time trailing my eyes back up to hers, a smirk finding its way onto my lips when I find her staring me down.
“Yes. You. My colleague tells me you only ever hang around the coffee shop when I’m there.”
She looks me in the eye, her bravado on display. I’ve been coming here for weeks, but I’ve never once seen recognition in her eyes. She doesn’t remember me.
I guess I can’t blame her. I look like an entirely different person. I went out of my way to leave that part of my life behind. Alanna… she’s the last remaining tie. One I can’t seem to cut. One that keeps me bound to a past I cannot escape. She’s a constant reminder, one I cannot let go of.
“Is that so?” I ask, my voice soft.
When I first walked in so many weeks ago, all I wanted to do was speak to her. Every time I’ve seen her since, that desire grew into something more.
Now? Now I want her. All of her.
I grin at her and take a step toward her. She tenses, and then she takes a step back, retreating until her back is against the wall. She looks up at me with wide eyes, a hint of panic simmering below the surface.
I lean my forearms against the wall, caging her in. There’s only a few inches between us and part of me wants to push further. I want her against me, but only if she comes willingly.
“You should’ve run,” I warn her. “When you find yourself alone in an alley with alarm bells ringing in your head, you run, Alanna. You don’t pick a fight you can’t win.”
She places her hands against my chest, as though she’s about to push me away, but then she pauses. She looks me in the eye, and at last I see a hint of recognition. It fades so quickly that I’m left wondering if I imagined it.
“I have a boyfriend,” she whispers. Her hands are palms flat on my chest, the heat of her skin sinking through my shirt. This is the closest I’ve had her in years.
“And where is he now?” I whisper back.
Alanna swallows hard, and I watch her gather her courage. Good girl. “He isn’t someone you can mess with. If you so much as touch me, he’ll make you disappear,” she wa
rns me, and I smile. No one in this city is untouchable. Not to me.
I lean in and brush the back of my hand over her cheek, my touch soft. “Is that so? I’d love to see him try.”
She blinks in disbelief, as though that isn’t the response she expected, and disappointment washes over me. The Alanna I used to know never would’ve hidden behind a man. She’d have kneed me in the balls the second I cornered her.
I pull away with a sigh. “You should’ve run,” I repeat. “You shouldn’t be alone in these dark alleys at all, Alanna. When you do inevitably find yourself here, be quick. Don’t zone out. Don’t linger. When someone approaches you and your intuition tells you that something is off, you run, you hear me?”
She nods and wraps her arms around herself protectively, her eyes on mine. There’s so much I want to say, yet now that I finally have her alone, nothing feels right. I take a step away and run a hand through my hair.
“Did you… did you follow me to make sure I was safe?”
I look away and shake my head, lying to her. “No,” I say, tipping my head toward the end of the alley. “My car is parked there.”
Her cheeks darken as my words sink in, and I smile. Embarrassment looks cute on her. “I… I’m sorry. I misread the situation. I didn’t mean to…”
I smirk. “You didn’t mean to what? Didn’t mean to assume I was interested in you?”
She bites down on her lip and I follow her every movement, all the while wondering what those lips will taste like. Does she still like cherry chapstick?