So Much Trouble: Bad Boy Forbidden Love Romance Collection (So Wrong It's Right Book 4)

by Jamie Knight

  The head of his cock is so close to my pussy as he plays with my breasts. Then he leans down and starts sucking on each one of them, his cock laying right on top of my pussy now.

  I want him so bad I could scream. Luckily, he stands partway back up and takes his cock in his hand, slapping it gently around my pussy lips and then leaving its head pointing right at my open, waiting, and willing hole.

  “You’re so wet,” he says, as his hand travels down to my clit and starts playing with it again like when I was on stage. Now that it’s just him and me, it’s even hotter. “You’re so ready to take my cock in you for your very first time, aren’t you, little girl?”

  “Yes,” I manage to moan out, wanting him so bad it hurts.

  My pussy is throbbing for him. My clit is on fire as he rubs it.

  “Okay, it might hurt a little,” he says, as he pushes himself inside me.

  It does hurt, as my hole stretches open for him while he works his way deeper inside me. But the way he’s playing with my clit feels so good I don’t even care.

  He reaches his hand under my ass and takes one of my butt cheeks in his free hand.

  Squeezing it gently, he says, “Fuck yeah. That’s my little girl. Letting me put my big cock in your tiny little virgin pussy.”

  “Mmmm,” I moan, now that he’s all the way inside me, filling me up and stuffing me full of his wide, long cock.

  It doesn’t hurt anymore. There’s only pure pleasure as he fucks me.

  “That feels so good,” I whimper. “Please. Don’t stop. I’m going to cum.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll never stop,” he says, thrusting in and out of me. “Now that I have you, I’m never letting go. I’ll fuck you and time I want, and I’ll be needing you at my constant disposal.”

  “Okay, yes, sir,” I automatically say.

  I don’t even know how this is going to be possible, considering I don’t even usually live here. But I would say whatever he wants right now because he is making such sweet love to me.

  “I’m cumming,” I say, feeling a wave of ecstasy take me over. “I’m cumming on your cock.”

  “That’s it,” he says, spanking my ass some, stretching my ass and pussy open even further with one hand while he keeps playing with my clit with the other.

  “Oh, my God,” I say, as tons of my juices start shooting out of my pussy.

  “That’s right, baby girl, don’t worry about that. That’s just called squirting. Your master just made you squirt. I can make your body do anything I want, upon my command.”

  “Mmmm. Mmmm. Ooooh.”

  I can’t stop moaning and groaning as he cock pounds me, harder now. As I feel it get even thicker and fuller inside me, I can tell he’s close to cumming again, too. In my pussy this time, instead of my mouth.

  “I’m going to cum in your pussy hole,” he announces. “I’ll shoot my load right in your tight little cunt. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I say, and then I think of something. “But…”

  “I know,” he says, taking his hand and putting it over my mouth so that I can’t say anything else. “I’m not using a condom. I’m fucking your raw little pussy with my naked cock. I want to put a baby in you and claim you as mine forever.”

  My eyes go wide as he keeps pounding my pussy.

  He puts two fingers in my mouth and I suck on them like I had just been sucking on his dick. He reaches down and twists my nipples and says, “you’ll be mine to do with as I please. I’ll put clamps on these nipples. Or on your clit. I’ll put a plug in your butt and fuck your ass. I’ll do whatever I want to you, whenever I want. Do you understand?”

  “Yes!” I agree, my voice muffled against his hand.

  “Good,” he says, and I can feel his cock throbbing and pulsing in my pussy. “Because here I cum.”

  Grunting, he empties his seed inside me, letting it spill out into me, squeezing my nipple as I writhe around, panting and screaming into his hand as I cum over and over again.

  “Mmmm,” he says, as he takes his cock out of me once we’re both done.

  Immediately my pussy feels empty and aching for him again. I never want him to be out of it. But it’s also sore and red and I know it could use some rest.

  He looks down at it one more time and says, “Yes, that’s my pussy now. And you’re not only my pet but my girlfriend. Okay?”

  “Yes, sir,” I tell him, smiling.

  He comes to lie down next to me on the bed, cuddling me in his strong arms.

  “Don’t you worry about any financial problems anymore. Your tuition is more than taken care of. You can stay here in Ireland with me. Or we can divide our time between – what state did you say you were from?”

  “Idaho,” I laugh, knowing that not many people are from there.

  “Idaho. Whatever you want. Because I love you. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. This St. Patrick’s Day I’ve had the best luck ever, and I’m never going to let you go.”

  “I love you, too,” I tell him, meaning it from the bottom of my heart.

  My phone buzzes with another text, from where he had set it down on the dresser before taking my virginity.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I think Sheila is wanting to know how I’m doing.”

  “What are you going to tell her?” he asks me.

  “Lucky as hell,” I reply.

  “I like that answer,” he says, smiling. “And you’d also better tell her that you need a plus one at that wedding of hers, because you’ve got a wedding date.”

  I smile at him, excited for our future together, and nuzzle my face into his strong chest, saying, “I’ll tell her later. You fucked me so good I need some sleep right now.”

  “Sleep sounding, baby girl,” he says. “I’ll be here when you wake up and every single day after that, because you just made me the luckiest man ever.”

  THE END

  My Fake Fiancé’s Secret Baby

  This is Book 10 in the His Secret Baby series,

  which are based on a theme and can be read alone

  but are fun to binge-read altogether!

  Copyright © 2020 Jamie Knight Romance

  Jamie Knight –

  Your Dirty Little Secret Romance Author

  All rights reserved.

  Chapter One - Shae

  I never liked sushi. The very thought of it made me feel a bit ill. Yet there I stood, waiting in the most secretive sushi joint in Las Vegas. A restaurant so exclusive it had a sign in Japanese. Not that this — or the fact it was in a state more than five-hundred miles from the nearest ocean — dissuaded people from showing up in crowds. I was genuinely shocked at how long I was able to hold my breath to not smell the fishy odors.

  The things I did for my cousin Aden. He was lucky he was my favorite family member.

  Sushi in hand, I stopped in at the best bakery in the west, getting four caramel eclairs. Not for myself, obviously. I had sworn off carbs years ago. These treats were merely a means to an end. Some might call it bribery, but I preferred to think of it as encouragement. Dropping the cargo onto the passenger seat of my car, I made my way downtown to my target.

  The security guard at the Sure Thing Graphics building barely looked up as I walked past his desk. There were advantages to being the cousin of the top employee of such a recognizable advertising firm. Only two guards were pulling twelve hours shifts who more or less recognized me on sight. Mainly since I started hanging about so much after I moved back to Vegas, despite my hours at the hospital.

  The elevator let out its happy little ding as I stepped off into the small area that was the cubicle farm that made up the tenth floor. I shuddered to think of what might happen in the case of a fire when the elevators were out. Call me grim, but it came with the territory. Working as a nurse, I had seen some pretty serious stuff and was always ready for the worst-case scenario. Drove my friends and family nuts. Thought they were also still all alive at last count, so I called it a win.

  “Workin' hard
?” I asked with a smile, sidling up to Camilla's desk. My new best friend and my cousin were recently engaged. Cammy and I had met as children, but as adults, we had grown extremely close.

  “Hardly workin', it's my lunch break, thank Odin.” The Sure Thing receptionist flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder and rolled her chair back some.

  “The Norse king of gods?” I asked, surprised by the evocation.

  “I like to hedge my bets,” Camilla said with a wink. She rubbed her hands over her small, taut baby bump.

  “How's my little second cousin?” I asked, feeling a slight pang of longing. I really wanted a baby of my own.

  “Good as far as I can tell, it hasn't really kicked in yet. No cravings or anything,” Cammy said, gliding her hands up and down.

  “So, your request for raw fish in seaweed followed by caramel pastries was just a whim.”

  “The sushi is for Aden!” she protested, pointing towards my cousin’s office.

  “Relax, hon, I'm just playing,” I said, putting the bags down on her desk and glancing around.

  “Looking for Chris?” Camilla asked in a whisper, leaning forward slightly.

  “Is he around?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

  I was, in fact, there to see Mr. Christopher Stewart, Chris to his friends and lovers, art director for the entire firm. The tall hunk and I had gotten to talking at an office celebration Aden had invited me to that suddenly turned into an engagement party when the bonehead thought that it would be a good time to propose to Camilla. It was hardly romantic. Not that proposing was a bad idea. They were a great pair, and I was starting to love Camilla almost as much as I loved Aden. She was quickly getting to be one of the family.

  I couldn't quite remember who had started the conversation, Chris or me, but it had gone off like gangbusters. We had so much in common, particularly families who didn't really understand why we chose the careers we had. My family thought I should be content to be a housewife. Chris was the only non-musician. That made us both oddballs, sparking an instant connection.

  It also didn't hurt that the art director was really handsome and quiet. Standing about six-foot with jet black hair, Chris was the embodiment of nerdy hot. From his glasses to his well-tailored clothing. Although I wouldn't call him charming. He was a bit too awkward for that. Though that was fine with me. I loved an authentic man. I'd fallen for charming before and had the emotional scars to prove it. I could stand a bit of humility. I craved it, honestly.

  “The troops have been fed, thanks to me, so Chris should be in his office,” Camilla broke through my thoughts.

  “He has an office?”

  She snort laughed. “After a sort. It is the biggest cubicle on the end. The one with the name plaque screwed into the wall. He's between clients right now,” she said, making it clear she was onto my intentions.

  “Clear his schedule,” I blurted without thinking.

  “You got it,” she said with a sly wink.

  “Thanks, kiddo.”

  “No problem.”

  We hugged briefly, and I left Camilla to her lunch, setting forth to find where Chris had hunkered himself. This was a risk, but I was willing to be a little bold to get what I wanted. And I was pretty sure I wanted him.

  I found the sexy art director hunched over his drafting table, drawing out a storyboard with charcoal and parchment, making exacting marks in pitch black on the sheer white surface as though conjuring the images from within the paper itself, like a sculptor or a sorcerer. The images were a bit rough but showed real talent.

  Aden was the only one who I had seen that was better, and he was a bit weird to begin with. He'd been drawing for years and had formal training. I didn't know if Chris had had any formal schooling. If he was an amateur, he was doing really well.

  “Oh, hello,” he said, taking out one of his earbuds.

  Was he into music after all? I had gotten the impression that he was from a family of professional musicians but didn't really get it the way they did. Then I paid attention to the sound of the tiny headphone and realized that he was listening to an audiobook… in Swedish.

  “You speak Swedish?” I asked bluntly, realizing it might not have been the most appropriate reply to his greeting.

  “Not as well as I would like. However, it is always good to have practice,” Chris said with an amused smile. His big brown eyes lit up a bit.

  “What is it?” I took a seat on the rolling stool by his drafting table.

  “Hanteringen av Ododa.”

  “Huh?” Blinking at him, I felt a little impressed.

  “Handling the Dead. It's a horror novel by John Ajvide Lindqvist,” Chris said, with what sounded to me like a perfect Swedish accent.

  “Everybody has to have a hobby,” I said, with a casual shrug, as though it wasn't the strangest thing I'd heard all week.

  “Very true,” Chris said seriously. “Can't work all the time. That way leads madness.”

  “Darn' tootin',” I said, reflecting on my own long hours at the hospital.

  “What's yours?”

  “What's my what?” I asked, coming back to earth.

  “What's your hobby?” he clarified. Sexy brown eyes looked into my face, making me feel like blushing.

  “Oh, I… I can't, it's weird,” I said, dropping Chris’s gaze.

  His straight black eyebrows lifted in mock shock. “Weirder than listening to post-modern Swedish zombie audiobooks in the original?”

  “Okay, point taken, I collect teddy bears. Jeepers doesn't like them much. I keep them out of reach.”

  “Jeepers?” Chris asked, standing up fully and crossing his arms over his chest.

  “My kitten,” I clarified, to keep him from thinking Jeepers was the name of my son or some such.

  “Oh, how old?”

  “Six months. He’s a little tuxedo cat. Black and white.”

  “Oh, almost a full-grown cat.”

  “Yeah, I guess. He still acts like a kitten, though. Gets into absolutely everything. One day I came home from a swing shift to find he had gotten the ficus out of the pot. To be fair, I hadn't cleaned his litter box in a while.”

  “Fair play to Jeepers,” Chris agreed, with a slight laugh.

  “Took a week for him to forgive me. Hid under the couch and refused to eat, but eventually, he came around.”

  “Yep, definitely a cat,” Chris agreed.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, indicating the storyboard.

  “Oh, storyboards for the new campaign for Circus Circus. Something for the designers to work from. I'm trying a new technique I got out of a book of 19th-century illustrations. It's difficult, but I think I'm getting it. See how those curves swoop.”

  “Yeah,” I said. I hadn't really, but I just couldn't bear to disappoint him. Besides which, now he had pointed it out they were quite lovely. Almost luscious.

  “I'm trying to really make it pop. Aden and Cooper are the only ones who are ever really going to see it, but I still try to do my best. I just figured if I do half-assed work, it will show, and the resulting product will suffer. It is too important for that.”

  “Advertising is important?”

  “It is for me. I mean the way I see it. Basically, there are two kinds of advertising. Advertising that lies and advertising that shows. Advertising that lies makes promises it can't keep and fools people into buying things that they likely don’t need. Advertising that shows presents a product in a flattering but realistic light and says 'hey, here is a thing that exists' and it could well be something good. Have you ever seen the old coke posters?”

  I shook my head. It was interesting to see Chris so impassioned about his work. “Um, no, I can't say I have.”

  “Here,” Chris said, hauling a hefty book up from under his desk. The book was a big, old, hardcover festooned with bright yellow post-it notes. The cover was made up of several images of old-fashioned posters. “Here it is,” he said, getting to the right page.

  Wha
t was on the page was a beautiful, hand-painted ad for coke-a-cola from the 1940s that looked like it was drawn by Norman Rockwell.

  “Looks like a Rockwell,” I said off-handedly.

  “It is a Rockwell.”

  “Oh!”

  “And there's this one,” Chris said.

  Flipping a few pages back, he revealed a gorgeous ad for Absinthe featuring a beautiful green fairy I could have sworn was Tinker bell's big sister.

  “Beautiful, right?”

  I nodded, not quite able to find the right words to express how transcendentally awesome I thought the image was. Take out the words, and it looked like it could have been hanging in a gallery or illustrating a classic fairy story. I loved it and how much Chris seemed to enjoy such exquisite examples of advertising from a time when they were gorgeous and the beauty and potential he still saw in them. He was like an advertising version of a Pre-Raphaelite, trying to resurrect the techniques of the old masters. No wonder the firm had won so many awards with him at the helm.

  “Isn't that illegal here?” I asked.

  “Absinthe? Yeah, technically, but nobody really cares anymore.”

  “Would you like to go for a drink?” I continued quickly. This was as good of a chance as any.

  Chris’s eyes widened. “Of Absinthe?”

  “If you like,” I said, giggling. Something I hadn't done since I was about fifteen.

  “I have to work tonight, but I'll take a rain check, yeah?”

  “O-okay,” I said, feeling my heart break a bit.

  It was the third time he had declined my invitation. I had to wonder if maybe Chris wasn't into me despite the signals he was clearly giving off. Or perhaps he really was just that into work. He certainly did seem passionate about it, and I didn't begrudge him that. I just wouldn't have minded a bit of that passion for myself as well. He made me feel in ways no man had since - well, ever. All I wanted was a chance.

  I left the building trying not to cry. I was better than that. Though that didn't stop my pussy from being wet. I was frustrated and horny and about to go on a swing shift at the hospital. Not my best day ever.