Bad Boy Revelation (Alpha Bad Boy Book 1)

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Bad Boy Revelation (Alpha Bad Boy Book 1) Page 3

by Howell, Sloane


  "I'm not done with you yet."

  Holy shit!

  I barely had time to process the fact I was about to get fucked again when my feet hit the floor and he flipped me around. His head was against mine, pressing my cheek flat against the wall, and he wrenched my hands behind me and pinned my wrists back with one hand.

  His free hand smacked me on the ass. The sharp sting and his grip on my wrists had me panting and moaning.

  "You like being spanked?"

  "Mmhmm." I nodded.

  "You ever been fucked from behind?" I felt his cock sliding through the folds of my pussy, rubbing against my clit and my knees buckled under me. He hooked his large arm through both of mine and pulled me up to his chest, his mouth next to my ear once more. His free hand took one of my breasts, rolling my tight nipple between his thumb and index finger before gripping it full.

  "These tits make my cock so fucking hard."

  His words were like raw sex and I needed him in me. I wanted him from behind. It's how he always fucked me in my fantasies.

  His arm was still hooked through both of mine and his forearm pressed into my back, forcing me to bend over for him. I didn't fight it this time.

  The crest of his cock teased around my entrance as he held my arms tight. I tried to push back into him and he slapped my ass again. My gasp rang out through the foyer.

  I felt the tip part my lips, and then he pressed in a little farther, until he was about halfway in and then pulled back, almost leaving me, before his hand fisted my hair and he drove into me fully. It was the hottest thing I'd ever experienced in my life, hitting every spot completely, going deeper than any mad had before.

  I jolted, breasts wobbling in a million directions every time he thrust into me. My moans turned to squeals as he increased the tempo and gripped my hair tighter. God, I loved his hand in my hair. Suddenly I was becoming lightheaded, shaking uncontrollably as he pistoned into me from behind. The wet smacking sounds from his pelvis ramming into my ass and thighs sounded like applause ringing out through the church. I clamped down on him, shaking and squealing as he released my arms and they clawed into the drywall, and I came on his name once more.

  "Bryce!"

  It must have done something for him, because suddenly my chest was pressed against the wall and he was in my ear, shoving his cock up into me as he rolled his hips against my ass. He moved my hair from the side of my face, his forehead pressing into the side of my head, above my ear. I felt his breath on my neck, his cock deep inside of my pussy. I tried to memorize what it felt like, every inch, every curve.

  "Say my name again. Tell me to come for you."

  His words were so fucking hot I could barely think straight.

  "Come for me, Bryce."

  He groaned, thrusting his hips harder, like he was on the brink of release.

  "Come inside me, Bryce. I want it. Come inside your pussy."

  I felt his cock jolt and his legs stiffen.

  "Fuck!" He grunted and released once more, filling me with everything he had as I squeezed around him, milking every drop that I could. I didn't care that he came inside me. I loved him. I wanted him. I didn't know why, I just knew. I wanted to run away with him. I wanted to carry his baby.

  I trembled against the wall, my shaking nails clacking against the drywall before scratching down it. His firm hands gripped me around the waist, but different this time. Not wanting to own me, but with just enough force to lift and turn me as he fell into me against the wall, breathing heavily. His forehead pressed into mine.

  My breasts pressed into his brick wall of a chest, as a sheen of sweat coated both of our bodies. We were both completely spent, completely enthralled. His gaze was soft now, the evil purged from both of us, but some of it still swimming in his seed deep inside of me.

  I stared into his eyes. They were warm and inviting. The edge of his lips curled the slightest bit as he pressed his chest into me with more force, still drawing heavy breaths.

  I placed my hands on his hard, defined cheeks. "I love you."

  I knew it sounded crazy, but it was true. I'd never said anything with more conviction. Never meant anything more than those words.

  He smiled, an actual smile. The bad, mysterious man's grin grew wider. "I love you too, Esther."

  Suddenly, sirens cut through our moment and I wanted to scream. I saw flashing lights in the distance.

  "Run!" Bryce's words cut my moment in the clouds short.

  "No!" I refused. I knew what this looked like. I stared at his body. It looked like he'd raped me, that I'd fought him.

  "Run! Please!"

  I shook my head.

  He put his palms on my face, then moved them to my hips, lifting me to his mouth. He kissed me, long and hard. My head pressed against the wall again. I didn't want to leave. I was floating on air. No matter what, he had me. He had taken it all and I'd given it to him. Happiness enveloped me as our velvet tongues intertwined.

  He sat me down and our lips parted. "Please, Esther. Run. I'll handle it."

  I nodded and sprinted, not wanting to let him down. Not wanting to disappoint my first and only love.

  I grabbed my tattered clothes and took off, running up the stairs to the balcony and hiding near a window. I peeked through the window as the police swarmed the place. Brian's Navigator followed.

  Bryce looked up at me in the window, pain in his eyes that he tried to hide. Brian stood there, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face as they shoved Bryce down into the police car, his hands cuffed behind his back. I wanted Brian dead. I hated him. I turned to the cross and apologized in my mind.

  ***

  The police questioned me as Dad stood there, dumbfounded. He cried and it hurt — not in a good way — but I wouldn't apologize for who I was, what I wanted.

  "She has Stockholm Syndrome, look at her. She's in shock."

  "Daddy, I'm as sane as I've ever been. I couldn't tell you this before, but it's true. It's how I've been since I can remember."

  "He brainwashed her." Dad pleaded with the officers but they said there was nothing they could do.

  I walked from the room to the court clerk's window, and pulled out my checkbook.

  Bryce was still being held on assault charges for beating the fuck out of Brian. I was the only witness and told police that Bryce had done nothing. It was the one thing I truly felt bad about, but Brian deserved it and I wanted my man free. I started to write a check for his bail when the door buzzed and Bryce stood in the frame, smiling at me. Dad started to rush Bryce, but the police restrained him.

  "You devil! You are a dead man!"

  Bryce stared at the floor. I could tell he didn't like the conflict. He didn't want to take me from my family, but it's what I wanted. It's what he wanted. I knew it. Being apart would be agony. Brian and his family rushed in through the doors.

  "What the fuck is that monster doing? Why isn't he cuffed?" Brian stood there, both eyes black, a splint covering his nose. I giggled.

  "I-I'm sorry. There is nothing we can do. There is no evidence he did this to you," said the sheriff.

  "This is the fucking evidence, you keystone cop motherfucker!" Brian motioned to his face.

  "It's going to be tough to win re-election without our backing," Brian's father said.

  "Look, his alibi is solid. He was with Esther the whole time. She says Brian made this all up. There is nothing I can do."

  Bryce took my hand, his fingers intertwined with mine, and we walked past all of them.

  "You'll pay for this shit, you animal!"

  Bryce stared into Brian's dad's eyes and he cowered in fear.

  Bryce turned and faced me in front of all of them. "I love you. I want to be with you. It's up to you."

  Tears streamed down Dad's face and Brian's family seethed with anger. I looked at Dad. "I-I'm sorry, I love him."

  Dad's face softened the tiniest bit.

  "I don't want to lose you, Dad. Please, just let me be happy." I pleaded and
begged.

  Dad's fists clenched at his sides. He stared at Bryce, and then back at me. He looked like he was afraid of losing me. "Okay—" He nodded and looked up at Bryce again. "Okay. Please take care of my baby." He looked back at me, the tears in his eyes ripping me up inside. "Please, just don't disappear."

  Bryce held out his hand to Dad and Dad took it. "I promise, sir."

  I ran and hugged Dad and he squeezed me back. "I love you. No matter what."

  "I love you too, Daddy."

  Bryce took my hand and we walked out the door of the station to his bike. He handed me a helmet and I climbed on and stared back at Dad. When Bryce turned the key and I gripped his ribs, everything felt right with the world. It was where I belonged. It was everything I'd ever wanted.

  I waved to Dad and blew him a kiss. When he turned I shot Brian's family the finger and felt Bryce's ribs bounce as he chuckled.

  Bryce turned his wrist and we blasted down the road until my small town disappeared behind us.

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  I stared down at the small diamond on my left ring finger and my heart fluttered. Bryce and I had immediately gone to the courthouse in the nearest city after we'd left and got married. I insisted on it. I didn't want to have wild, crazy sex and it be a sin any longer. I was with the man I wanted. I'd assured Dad on the phone that we would have a formal wedding he could officiate in a few months, when it didn't seem so sudden. He agreed that it was a good idea.

  I stared down at the counter, joy rushing through me. I could barely contain myself. There it was, what I'd hoped for, and I couldn't wait to tell the love of my life.

  I heard him come through the door and I rushed around the corner to greet him as he walked in from work. I usually ran to him and kissed him, but this time I was reserved, my cheeks rosy pink.

  He walked over, a surprised look in his eyes as he picked me up and twirled me around, locking his lips onto mine.

  I released from his mouth, sad that his beard parted ways from my skin, and leaned into his ear. "You're going to be a father."

  His grip tightened around me and I pulled my head back to stare at my beautiful husband's strong face. It was filled with tears that streamed down to his beard, but a huge smile accompanied them. "You promise?"

  I nodded, placing my palms on his cheeks. "Yes, baby. Yes. I promise."

  I squealed and kissed him harder and longer, connecting with his beard once more, his tongue and lips. I could feel the electricity in our kiss, the happiness radiated through our small home. I had everything.

  INCLUDED BONUS: The Panty Whisperer: Volumes 1 - 5, included free at the end of this ebook

  If you enjoyed this story a review would be very much appreciated by the author. Sloane loves feedback and would like to know what his readers both enjoyed and didn’t enjoy. Thank you for reading!

  CONTACT SLOANE

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  Novels:

  The Matriarch Trilogy:

  Book # 1: The Matriarch: An Erotic Superhero Romance

  Books # 2 and 3: Coming in 2016

  Short Stories and Novellas:

  The Panty Whisperer Series:

  The Panty Whisperer: Volumes 1 - 5

  The Panty Whisperer: Volume 6

  The Payne Capital Series:

  Payne Capital

  FREE BONUS READS

  The Panty Whisperer: Volumes 1 - 5

  (Stories 1 - 5 in The Panty Whisperer series)

  By: Sloane Howell

  INTRO

  THE MAJORITY OF MEN WANT sex just to get off. They blow their load, roll over, and fall asleep. That’s not my style though. I want you to remember my face. I want you to remember every inch of me.

  And you will.

  I want to watch your eyes roll up in your head, your toes cramp up while curling under your feet, your thighs trembling around my face, begging for my stiff cock inside your soaking wet pussy.

  Every time you tease your throbbing clit, longing for your hair to be pulled, while squeezing those quivering pussy walls around your slippery fingers, you’ll be wishing it was me inside of you, drilling balls deep into that aching cunt while you dig your nails into the sheets. I want to own your mind for the rest of your life.

  The thought of me will be a thirst you can’t quench, a drug you can’t have, an itch that cannot be scratched, no matter how hard you try. Nobody will send a shock of neural ecstasy from your pulsating little cunt to the tips of your toes the way I will. Care to bet me?

  JESSICA MOORE

  MOST PEOPLE HAVE SOMETHING THEY’RE good at: math, sports, music, art. I wasn’t born with some common talent. I’m a master of making women come. I don’t know why or how it happened, it’s just built into my DNA. I’ve always been able to talk to women and get them to do whatever I want. Ever since I was a teenager, if there was a girl nobody could bed, I got there first.

  My name is Joel Hannover. Well, actually, that’s a bit of a lie. Joel is my middle name. My first name is Herbert. I hate that name. It’s like my parents were trying to cock block me from conception.

  I work as an accounting software consultant. It sounds fancy like I should be good with math or computers. Nothing could be further from the truth. I’m a salesman. My job; however, is perfect for my hobby. Most accounting departments are comprised of women. Women that most people think are boring or uneventful.

  I meet these women every day. Insecure, dressed conservatively, hiding their beautiful bodies behind layers of clothing, afraid a few pounds of baby weight might still show. They’re ladies who work crossword puzzles and process numbers and transactions. It’s all a façade though. These women are just like any other. Sexual creatures who want to have all of their desires met and all of their needs fulfilled.

  They are practically begging for someone to explore them, to bring them out of their shell and release the sexual tension that has saturated their entire being, afraid to break free. They get their rocks off reading erotica, watching porn, or using the shower head in a manner it was not intended for. I can’t allow this. They need someone to open their mind and release their fantasies into the wild. Someone to spread their thighs and take them to places they never knew possible, where all of their darkest fantasies reside. This is the environment where I thrive.

  ***

  Meet Jessica Moore: mid-thirties, married with two kids, unhappy.

  Fucking hot.

  She is a senior fixed asset analyst at a company that’s implementing my firm’s new software. She is amazingly sexy and wasting away in a bad marriage that is held together solely for the kids. We’ve been working together on this project for about two weeks now and have grown somewhat close.

  She cracks a smile as I walk through the door to her office. “Good morning.”

  “Jessica,” I say in return, pausing for a moment, “you look nice.” She looks ridiculously sexy if I’m being honest.

  Jessica bites her lip with a smile. I want to put my cock in that beautiful mouth so bad. I have to have her. I’ve been studying her relentlessly for the last two weeks, processing every bit of information she provides. She loves Starbucks, romantic comedies, and has an adventurous side to her that she’s afraid to act on. Well, she didn’t exactly say that, but like I said before, I can sense these things. It’s an innate ability. “Did you have a good weekend?” I ask.

  “Completely boring, didn’t do much of anything. Philip went hunting and left me with the kids. So we had a movie night on
Saturday, you?”

  Well, I can’t really tell her I filmed myself banging two twenty-year-old coeds and then watched it while going a second round with them. “Oh, I had a movie night myself. New indie film, you wouldn’t have heard of it.” Hey, you didn’t lie to her.

  I can’t stop staring at her black, mid-length skirt hugging tight around her hips. I get the slightest peek at her tanned cleavage protruding through her low-cut red top as she reaches into the bottom of a file cabinet. She’s dressed up today and it’s for me, we both know it. The first day I was here she wore mom jeans and a sweater.

  Her wavy brunette hair is pulled back into a pony tail and her bright blue eyes send my stomach churning in knots every time I meet them. It’s obvious that she works out and watches her figure, but she’s got these curves that send blood straight to my dick. I have to fuck this woman. No, I want to make this woman come harder than she ever has in her life, if she ever has at all. She deserves it. She works hard, is a good mother, and puts up with a piece of shit husband.

  I’m going to plow her so hard she wants to scream but the words won’t come out. I can tell that she wants it, constantly eyeing my six-foot-two frame, wondering what I’m packing in my slacks. It’s not 10 inches but it gets the job done. A massive cock is overrated anyway. I’m not trying to scar her for life.

  I pull a caramel macchiato with no whip cream out from behind my back and set it down on the desk in front of her. It’s all about paying attention to details. “Oh my god, you’re my hero. Seriously.” She takes a sip. “I am a slave to caffeine.”

  “I know how it goes.”

 

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