romance

Romance Novel Excerpts: 9-Inch Addiction by Jamila Jasper

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“I make the rules around here… And you’ll do well to listen to them.” 

CHUCK

My father’s brown-skinned CFO thinks she’s my boss.

I’ll have her bent over her desk begging for more before she knows what hit her.

If anyone finds out about my intentions with her, I’ll be out on street and shipped off back to London.

But I can keep a secret…

I bet she can too with these come-hither brown eyes that she can’t keep off me.

Nobody says no to Chuck Banks.

It’s only a matter of time before she’s MINE.

IDA

My boss thinks I have nothing better to do than look after his son.

Chuck Banks is the type of guy that put me off dating forever…

He’s arrogant...

Demanding…

Bossy…

And one of the only men on the East Coat who can close a $50 million dollar deal at a 100% success rate.

We need him here.

I’m keeping my distance, but I have a feeling he’s trying his hardest to get closer.

Too close, and the career I’ve worked so hard for will come crumbling around me.

I can’t let this happen.

Romance Novel Excerpts: 9-Inch Addiction

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

“No can do.”

 

I folded my arms as I listened to Monty’s three-word response to my thirty minute proposal. That was it? I’d spent weeks crafting the perfect list of reasons I needed a raise, and demonstrating how much I added to the Banks & Wiltshire Group.

 

“That’s it?” I responded, aghast.

 

Monty puffed his cigar and coughed, releasing a cloud of tobacco across his desk.

 

“‘Fraid so.”

 

I’d been with the company for over ten years after the merger. I knew Monty as more than just my boss, the CEO, but as a friend. 

 

“Monty… Are you serious right now? I know what the numbers are saying, where’s all that money going?”

 

He shrugged, “Expenses.”

 

Seeing that I wouldn’t budge, he leaned back and offered me a drink.

 

“Whiskey?”

 

“No thanks.”

 

Not only were we at work but it was hours before noon. Monty Banks helped himself, taking his cool time to unscrew the bottle while he poured it into his glass — no ice, no chasers, straight whiskey.

 

“Sit down, Ida.”

 

I sat. He drank.

 

“Listen, I don’t mean to give the impression that we don’t appreciate you here.”

 

“Monty, you know that I’m loyal to you. I’ve always been that way. I just want to move up. I have goals… aspirations…”

 

Monty nodded and waved as he drank more.

 

“Yes, yes, yes,” he replied, “I understand completely.”

 

“If you understand, why won’t you budge?”

 

Monty cleared his throat and drank more.

 

“Hm… Ida, why don’t we make a deal here?”

 

“What kind of deal?” I raised my eyebrows. 

 

“One where you get some money.” 

 

“I’m listening,” I replied. 

 

Money was what I wanted. Why was I the only one at the company who seemed to be struggling? New York was killing me.

 

“Early bonus.”

 

I folded my arms.

 

“That’s it?”

 

Monty sighed, “I’ll increase by $6,000.” 

 

Now we were getting somewhere. The figure was nowhere near as close as I’d asked for. But it was $16,000 that I needed… bad.

 

“I’ll think about it.”

 

“Think about it?”

 

Monty finished his drink. 

 

“Yes,” I held my voice steady, “I’ll think about it.”

 

Satisfied, Monty poured himself a second round.

 

“I have something else to discuss with you.” 

 

He spoke the way white people did when they were about to ask you to do something. He avoided eye contact. Then I knew he was going to ask me to do something I didn’t want to do.

 

“What is it Monty,” I huffed.

 

“Don’t get short with me Ida,” he glared, winking to let me know he wasn’t serious.

 

“Spill. And don’t add more to my plate.”

 

“Heh,” Monty coughed.

 

I waited. He drank some more and then stalled.

 

“Mind if I get another cigar?”

 

“No problem.”

 

I could wait. Playing to Monty’s good side couldn’t hurt my case for a raise. He took his time, clipping the tip of his cigar and then rolling it between his palms before lighting.

 

“Want a puff?”

 

Monty knew I didn’t smoke. So I didn’t respond. He sat across from me and then started talking.

 

“We value your work in the marketing department here at Banks & Wiltshire. The billboard in Times Square project, the Jamaica, Queens community outreach, it’s all been fantastic. I’ve come to trust you Ida… The day you throw in the towel will be the worst day of my life.”

 

He was buttering me up now, and I knew then whatever he planned to ask me was something big.

 

He smoked, drank a little more and I waited, settling into the chair and staring at him. Monty was getting older. At 60, he was still a silver-foxed scamp. His cigar and whiskey before lunch were only the beginnings of his problems.

 

Monty was cursed with being both too smart and too good-looking for his own well-being. I’d like to pretend his charm didn’t work on me, but he was a difficult man to resist.

 

“I want to entrust you with a matter that’s more… personal.”

 

“Personal?”

 

While Monty and I were friends, there were some boundaries that had never been crossed between us. Most “personal” situations fell firmly within that territory. Monty hadn’t told me about the time his wife lived in their beach house for a year because he’d knocked up their maid. I hadn’t told him about my sister’s third DUI. 

 

We kept our dirty laundry out of each other’s view. In the corporate world, the personal is always just out of reach. No matter how personal you pretend to get with your coworkers, when you head home for the night, they usually just become your coworkers.

 

70-hour work weeks were the only thing that stood between me and more distance between my coworkers.

 

“This is a delicate issue Miss Bell, so I’d appreciate your discretion.”

 

Now my interest piqued. I clasped my hands over my knees, hiding the impatient tapping of my legs and fidgeting with my class ring from Columbia. 

 

“You know I can keep a secret, Montgomery.”

 

Monty nodded, “Excellent. You might want to have a drink.”

 

“No thanks,” I urged again.

 

“Hm,” he responded. 

 

Before he could go on, his phone rang. I could hear Pippa’s voice on the other end, loudly asking Monty if he was free to meet a woman who wanted an afternoon appointment. Monty declined, they had another conversation about Monty’s flights to the Maldives, then he hung up.

 

“Where was I?”

 

“Something personal.”

 

“Yes, yes…” he mumbled, coughing gently and filling my face with tobacco smoke again.

 

“This is a special assignment for you Ida. If you can manage this,” Monty paused to chuckle, “I’ll definitely consider a raise.”

 

“What is it?”

 

I was starting to get impatient and what’s worse, bad at hiding it. Monty tapped his cigar, the ash falling gently into his engraved Harvard ash tray.

 

“My son is flying back from London today. He should be arriving at Grand Central before the stock exchange closes.”

 

“Great,” I replied, unsure how this news applied to me.

 

“He’s coming to work here, for Banks & Wiltshire.”

 

“What?”

 

I folded my arms, ignoring Monty’s smirk. 

 

“I need someone responsible to keep an eye on him.”

 

“You are his parent,” I grumbled.

 

Monty chuckled, “Darling, I’m half drunk before twelve o’clock, I can’t have anymore on my plate.”

 

I hated when Monty called me darling, reminding me that no matter how many decades I’d busted my butt to get here, he’d always believe the company was an old boys club.

 

“Which son are you talking about?” I narrowed my eyes.

 

Monty smirked, “Not Santi.”

 

I averted my gaze this time. Monty rarely acknowledged his illegitimate child and I had no interest in pursuing the subject further.

 

“I’m not equipped for this Monty.”

 

“I believe you are, Ida. No one here knows me better than you.”

 

I frowned, and didn’t respond.

 

“Back when you were new ‘round here, maybe we got in each other’s way a few times, but you know how I respect you.”

 

I said nothing, staring him dead in the face, hoping he’d give me a reason not to walk out of his office.

 

He stood up and walked around to me, touching my face.

 

“Ida, darling, I’m asking you a favor.”

 

It had been years since Monty touched my face like that. We’d shared one kiss — one — at my first office party here. Then I found out he was married. With kids. And for weeks, I hadn’t spoken to him. After putting our differences aside, we’d become friends. Close, true friends.

 

But his hand on my face brought me back to all those years ago when I’d been young and foolish. He’d been a charming, older, executive and for a moment, a brief moment, I’d entertained the notion of what life could be like with a man like him. Even as his mistress, you’d be taken care of. A more careless woman would have plunged into an affair.

 

But I believed in love back then, and I still did, and I knew I wouldn’t find it in the bed of a married man. His touch reminded me of what I gave up for a Prince Charming who’d never arrived. 

 

I turned my cheek away from him, considering for a moment that no matter how angry I was with him, bitterness wouldn’t serve me.

 

“Monty,” I replied, “Tell me what you need me to do.”

 

He dropped his hand and smiled, the gentle flirtatiousness he’d used to get his way was exposed as a ploy, but neither of us minded. 

 

He beamed from ear to ear, towering over my seat looking proud of himself before he walked over to his window and cast his gaze over Manhattan.

 

“It’s Charles,” he muttered.

 

“Charles?”

 

Now that was a name I hadn’t heard in a while. I knew all about Monty’s sons. The eldest, Townsend Banks, worked as a freelance party animal and only left East Hampton once a month to come into the city and collect his check from his father. 

 

He was tall, roguish, with long brown hair and brilliant green eyes like his red-headed Scottish mother. Townsend, the lazy son, wouldn’t have been horrible to look after. He was too lazy to get into trouble and no job he’d had ever lasted anyways. I wondered what good his Cornell education had been.

 

Monty’s youngest son, Santiago, had been born from his dalliance with a Guatemalan maid, a beautiful woman who had been lambasted in the media for her affair with the big-name CEO. Monty took the boy in, easily using his multi-million dollar net worth to sway the courts into garnering full-custody.

 

Santiago, ever aware of his humble roots, wouldn’t have been a problem either. He was the only one of Monty’s sons who hadn’t been kicked out of Andover, and would have been a delight. Of course, Buffy would have never allowed him to work here. 

 

When you’re the one who’s been cheated on, you tend to have the final word in those matters.

 

When I realized Montgomery was talking about Charles, I froze. Was he trying to send me to an early grave?

 

He saw my silent worry and met it with a smile.

 

“He’s mellowed since Yale.”

 

“Oh that’s a relief,” I shot back, rolling my eyes.

 

“His time in London has done him good,” Monty continued.

 

Was he trying to convince me that his son was a good person, or was he trying to convince himself?

 

“I want you to keep an eye on him, Ida.”

 

I joined Monty at the window, my arms folded. The city buzzed beneath us as we stood tall and powerful over New York. At that moment, I didn’t feel powerful. Denied a raise, and then given an impossible task. Monty held all the cards and he knew it. There was no way I was going to quit, risk starting over the career I’d spent decades building.

 

He knew me too well and he knew how to play the corporate game instinctively, like any big success did.

 

“What do you mean keep an eye on him?”

 

“I want you to keep him out of trouble.”

 

“What do you think I can do that you can’t?”

 

Monty looked over at me and smirked.

 

“Get through to him.”

 

I snorted.

 

“You’re tough Ida. You’ve got balls. Charles will respect you.”

 

“Wishful thinking,” I muttered.

 

“What did you say?”

 

“Nothing, Monty.”

 

He nodded, “Good. So it’s settled.”

 

He thrust his hands into his pockets after running them through his silvery gray hair. His eyes reddened from the liquor and the tobacco smoke. He let out another cough and then patted his own chest.

 

“Make sure he keeps his nose clean. No public affairs. No drugs. No fights.”

 

“Sounds like a job for a nanny.”

 

“I’m serious, Ida.”

 

“With all due respect Monty, if he’s so much trouble, why is he working here? We’ve both got a lot on our plate and with the Shanghai deal coming up —”

 

“That’s exactly why we need him,” Monty interrupted, “The Shanghai deal.”

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

Monty shook his head, “No. There isn’t. But Charles managed to do something amazing in London. Working with Vanderbilt & Scott he closed every single $50 million deal with a 100% success rate.”

 

“Whoa.”

 

“He’s damn good at mergers.”

 

Damn good? He sounded better than good. We’d been struggling to close our international markets for upwards of two years. We’d used every top negotiator in the world, including those trained by the FBI and military negotiators who’d served in Iraq.

 

“Why hasn’t he come here earlier then?”

 

Monty cleared his throat and scowled.

 

“Personal problems.”

 

From his scowl, I knew he meant that we wouldn’t be discussing these personal problems and they were likely to do with Charles Banks frequent unfavorable media appearances and his run-ins with the law.

 

“This is a lot to ask, Monty.”

 

“I know.”

 

He patted me on the back.

 

“If we pull through, we’ll all be rich.”

 

I folded my arms and raised an eyebrow. Monty was already rich. He’d been born rich, just like his granddaddy and daddy before him. Not every thought needs to be said out loud so I just smiled and stared out over New York with him.

 

“Thanks, Ida.”

 

I left his office, returning to mine with a sense of confusion. I’d walked into Monty’s office intending to get a raise. I’d received no raise, the possibility of an extra bonus and even more work than I already had. I was swamped.

 

As I sat at my desk, Pippa knocked on my door. It should be easy for you to guess why Philippa Wiltshire worked at Banks & Wiltshire. After failing to find a job and spending half a fortune of her four Masters of Fine Arts, I’d been gifted an assistant.

 

Pippa helped, and she was a sweet girl, although not the brightest tool in the shed for one who had attended Barnard, NYU and Columbia.

 

“Sorry to disturb Miss Bell.”

 

“You aren’t disturbing anything, I just got back from my meeting with Monty.”

 

Pippa turned a bright red to match her shock of red hair when I mentioned Monty’s name. Her tortoise shell glasses fogged up and she took them off to clean them on her button down, pulling it out of the corduroy skirt to use the ends.

 

“What did he say?” She asked, squinting at me as she cleaned her glasses. 

 

“Work, work and more work. Now hurry on up with those glasses, ‘cause I’ve got work for you too.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” Pippa replied, hastily replacing her glasses, tangling some of her red hair in the process.

 

“Oh… Before you start,” she muttered, searching for her notebook in her pockets.

 

“It’s on the desk.”

 

She lunged forward and grabbed the notebook, flipping a few pages before she spoke.

 

“Ah yes. Uh… You have a date tonight with Chad Corbett and he called making sure you were still on.”

 

“Cancel it.”

 

“Cancel it?” Pippa asked.

 

Was my dating life that desolate that a cancelled date sent my assistant into a near panic?

 

“Yes Pippa, I meant what I said.”

 

She tucked her shirt back into the corduroy.

 

“Are you sure? He sounded nice on the phone.”

 

I glanced up from my computer at Pippa. Her naive twenty-eight year old mind couldn’t fathom why an unmarried woman over forty would cancel a date. A few more years on the New York dating scene and I was sure she’d start to understand…

 

“Working late tonight, Monty’s orders,” I replied, passing the blame onto work as I usually did.

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

“Great. Now I need you to head down to HR and pull up everything you can on that new junior copywriter.” 

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

“Then I want you to call the New Jersey branch and ask them to send over last month’s financial statements.”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

“I want some hazelnut coffee in here by 11 — almond milk, no sugar.”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

She stood staring blankly for a while. I toyed with remaining silent myself, just to see how long she’d stand there before getting started. I sighed and instead said patiently, “You can move along now Pippa, thank you.”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

Pippa the broken record stepped out of my office. I sighed. No more date with Chad, but at least I’d get my raise early. I opened the top drawer to my desk and reached for my emergency bar of chocolate. At my office, that was a necessity and far better for me than Monty’s emergency whiskey, or emergency cigar.

 

I unwrapped the chocolate when I heard a familiar voice calling outside my office.

 

“Is that chocolate?!”

 

Letty. You couldn’t crack open a soda, a chocolate bar, a sandwich, or anything without her ambling over and asking for a piece. The girl was hopeless. Sweet girl, but hopeless. She entered my office and we shared the chocolate together.

 

Letty was the only other black woman in my office and the only listening ear who could appreciate how much I struggled.

 

“How’d it go?”

 

“No can do,” I snorted.

 

“Are you serious?”

 

I nodded.

 

Letty shook her head.

 

“These white folks… Something’s gotta give.”

 

“I need to stand up for myself,” I replied, “And get out of here.”

 

“Amen to that.”

 

I wondered why I was the only executive in the office who seemed to be struggling to hold it all together. Despite outranking Letty in the corporate structure, she was the only one I could relate to about wanting more for my money.

 

New York ain’t cheap, and it ain’t getting any cheaper. I had to find a way out of this mess and a way to show Monty that I deserved more pay. I just had to. 

 

My phone buzzed.

 

“Whose that?”

 

“Chad,” I grumbled, glancing at my phone and ignoring it.

 

“Sexy Chad?”

 

I glared, “Just Chad.”

 

“What’s up with him?”

 

“Cancelled our date,” I grumbled.

 

Letty raised her eyebrows and cast a shady side-eye in my direction.

 

“Okay girl, you do you.”

 

Her message was clear: She thought I was just as crazy as Pippa did. 

 

Could a woman catch a break around here?

TO BE CONTINUED...

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KILLER LOVE BONUS ENDING

BWWM Books Romance Novel Excerpts Killer Love Jamila Jasper BWWM Books If you haven't read the book, you can get it on Amazon for either $5.99 or $9.99.

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READ THE BONUS ENDING => 

 

I waved back to Ryan then he helped me to my feet. We still had an hour or two, but only our closest friends remained behind at the reception.

 

“Feeling tipsy?” He asked me.

 

“No. Just tired. It’s been a long day.”

 

He pulled my close and whispered into my ear, “It will be a long night too.”

 

I smirked, wandering what mischief he had planned.

 

“Are you serious?”

 

He stared me up and down with fierce determination.

 

“I’m very serious. We can sleep on the flight.”

 

He walked ahead of me, onto the dance floor and I followed, giggling.

 

Ryan and I danced until my heels bruised. Ryan started off the evening with too much to drink — prodded by his Italian uncles. He gripped me around the hips and swung me around the dance floor to traditional ballads from their region in Italy.

 

His cheeks flushed from drunkenness and me, giddy with excitement at the entire night.

 

Our entire evening was a countdown to the honeymoon. The car out front waited to bring us to our hotel, a swanky place close to the airport so we could get on the flight to Italy the next afternoon.

 

It would be my first time traveling to the gorgeous Mediterranean country.

 

Ryan’s touch was just around the corner. Every moment of our reception denied me his ardent love-making. I endured the party, wishing desperately that we could escape and “celebrate” in the bedroom. 

 

Something about the celebration of our marriage added excitement to the evening. Every touch, every glance, every kiss was now as man and wife. He teased me too — touching my thigh, gently brushing his lips to my neck. 

 

We didn’t have to hide our affections — and we never would again.

 

We’d spent decades, never admitting to each other how we truly felt. We were free: from our denial, from our unhappiness and from our solitude. 

 

“Mrs. Maggio,” Ryan whispered to me as he held me close during one of the slow dances towards the end of the night.

 

“Yes, Mr. Maggio?” 

 

My arms wrapped around his neck and my heels brought me just high enough that if I tip-toed I could hold him that way while swaying side to side.

 

“I can’t wait to take you up to bed,” he whispered.

 

I giggled.

 

“Ryan! That’s very naughty.”

 

“You haven’t seen naughty,” he growled.

 

I giggled away as his lips teased my neck.

 

“Ryan,” I gasped, “I think your grandma’s watching…”

 

“I don’t care,” he replied, “I have to taste you.”

 

I giggled and pretended to push him away. He only grabbed me closer and by then, we’d lost the beat of the music and were laughing hysterically in each other’s arms. 

 

“I’m looking forward to Italy,” he replied once we’d calmed down and returned to a pair of chairs in the back of the room.

 

“Yes?”

 

He nodded, “I’ll never let you leave the house… we’ll be making love all day… all night…”

 

“Ryan!”

 

“Hey,” he replied, “If you love it there, we don’t ever have to leave.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

He shrugged, “I can work for my pa in Italy. You can fulfill orders anywhere in the world. We’re free.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” I replied.

 

In that instant, I was ready to accept. I’d follow Ryan anywhere in the world, just like I knew he’d follow me.

 

When there was no one on the dance floor except Louis, Nicki, Dana and Tyler, we prepared to end the night.

 

Nicki assured me she’d take care of the last details and Louis gave me a big hug, welcoming me to the family.

 

Ryan and I walked out to the car, Tyler following a few steps behind. He opened the car door for me and gave me a friendly pat on the back. He closed the door and I watched as he spoke to his brother outside.

 

Their faces were solemn and I wondered if they were talking shop. Ryan broke out into a grin and embraced his brother, who scowled at first and then returned his brother’s embrace. I heard Ryan say one last thing — in Italian this time, so I couldn’t understand him. 

 

They nodded and Ryan slid into the back of the car next to me. The driver nodded and we were off, driving along the empty roads towards our hotel. 

 

Ryan leaned over and whispered to me, “Should we wait until we get in the room?”

 

“I don’t know,” I asked, eyes alight with mischief, “Should we?”

 

Ryan chuckled, “You’re a minx, you know that?”

 

I leaned my head against his shoulder.

 

“I had no idea.”

 

“Hmm…” he kissed my forehead, then toyed with the ring on my finger.

 

“Can you believe it?” He asked.

 

“No,” I whispered, “This whole day felt —”

 

“Surreal?”

 

“Yeah,” I nodded.

 

Ryan kissed my head again.

 

“I’m glad I got a second chance with you, Gina.”

 

“Same.”

 

Our eagerness to make love was overwhelmed with our exhaustion from the day for the rest of the car ride. We sat, intertwined as the driver carted us to comfort.

 

In the hotel room, there was marked silence between us. Ryan wrapped his arms, hugging me from behind as we entered the door, dropping our suitcases in the nearest corner.

 

“My wife,” he muttered.

 

I turned around to face him.

 

“We need to get this thing off of you.”

 

“Be gentle,” I replied, “I want to save it.”

 

He seemed to find the notion of me saving the wedding dress amusing. He smirked as he reached behind me for the laced up corset that cinched me waist into place.

 

“I said be careful,” I warned him again.

 

He nodded, saying nothing before planting a kiss on my lips. There’s something indescribably intimate about a man unlacing your corset. He’s delicately unwrapping you like a present and will be much more grateful when he gets his prize.

 

I closed my eyes, kissing him back as he loosened my garment inch by inch. I could breath better and he got to work unhooking the buttons that kept me imprisoned in my ivory dress. My copper colored skin remained hot to the touch as he worked on stripping me down to nothing.

 

Dressed like royalty, the process was slow and personal. He worked his fingers through the last button, finally allowing his hand to press against the small of my back through my lingerie.

 

He kissed my neck this time and growled into my ear.

 

“I could rip this off you and take you now… right here on the floor.”

 

I giggled as his tongue tickled my ear lobe again. He sucked on my neck and I let out a loud moan. He slipped the dress down around my hips and I stepped out of the ballgown tulle skirt. 

 

I stood in lingerie just before him then, heart racing as my own desire for him mounted. 

 

“Easy,” he muttered.

 

He left me standing there as he picked up the dress and slowly hung it on a hanger, placing it on the curtain rod in the room.

 

“Easy,” he whispered again.

 

I stood patiently waiting for him, communicating my desires for him only with my gaze. He returned to my position and grabbed my hips again. He held me firm in his grasp, his blue eyes searching in mine for arousal that would feed his own. 

 

“I love seeing you like this,” he muttered in a deep, husky voice.

 

“I love seeing you naked even better.”

 

He reached behind me for yet another corset that stood between him and his prize. He unlaced this one faster and more urgently, his fingers stumbling over the buttons as he kissed me deeper and faster.

 

“I can’t wait,” he growled, “I’m done waiting.”

 

I shared his aggressive passion and squeezed my eyes shut as I slipped his jacket off and worked to undo the buttons on his white shirt. I got the shirt off as he took my lingeries off and tossed it to the side. All I had on was my underwear, a lacy white thong that hugged my hips and created a curvy figure.

 

We’d waited long enough and neither of us could take another moment of hesitation. He swept me off my feet as I squealed, wrapping my legs and arms around him. He slammed me into the wall and propped me up with every bit of his strength. 

 

He slipped my underwear to the side and pressed his fingers against my plump pussy lips. I dripped with desire. He rubbed my wetness and slid his finger between my pussy lips, pulling them out suddenly as I gasped in his arms.

 

“Taste yourself,” he commanded, shoving his fingers into my mouth as I let out a groan of ecstasy from his lips on my neck.

 

“Delicious?” He asked.

 

“Yes,” I whimpered.

 

“Good.” 

 

He didn’t say another word, only pulled out his hardness and lined it up with my entrance.

 

“No protection,” he asked, almost as if he wasn’t asking.

 

I nodded. I wanted him like this — unsheathed, unprotected. Committed to each other for life, I was ready to take things to another level. 

 

He didn’t wait before pressing his hardness up against my entrance. I grasped his neck, taking a tuft of his thick black hair between my fingers as he slid inside me.

 

“OHHH!” I cried.

 

He pressed me harder against the wall and thrust his hips into me, fitting the entire length of his cock deep inside me. He’d pushed into my deep. All I could do was shudder from the pleasure as he held me in his arms up against that wall. 

 

He grunted as he pounded into me. I gasped and gripped his neck tighter, moaning as excruciating pleasure surged through my body. He tugged at my coils of hair, grunting with each thrust as our bodies joined as man and wife for the first time.

 

I exploded with a climax after he’d thrust into me deep and his cock was covered with my juices. He moved me from the wall to the bed, laying me gently amongst the pillows and then crawling between my legs, pressing his weight into me.

 

“Mmm,” he moaned, his cock resting against my leg, still throbbing hard and eager to re-enter me.

 

“I can’t resist,” he murmured, “I have to taste you.”

 

While my wetness remained desperate for his entry, I couldn’t leave his offer on the table. I nodded and spread my legs, urging him to slide his tongue between my folds until I mewled and pleaded for mercy.

 

He slipped my underwear off, tossing it across the room as I’d expected he would. I eased my knees up towards my head, giving him access to the treasure between my thighs. His tongue started at the back of my wetness and he slipped it all the way up to my clit. 

 

I emitted a loud squeal of pleasure, bucking my hips upwards as he drove his tongue between my folds. He pressed me harder into the bed, using his tongue to swirl around my clit until I climaxed again and again.

 

I moaned loudly, squirting as he continued to suck on my folds. He pulled away, his face covered in my juices with the brightest smile plastered across it.

 

“I think you’re ready for more now.”

 

I whimpered and nodded, shuddering as I waited to accept my fate. He eased his monstrous cock closer to my wetness and prepared to slide it into me again. His hardness oozed pleasure, covered in my juices and in his virile veins.

 

He slipped into me with one swift motion like a hot knife through butter. I cried out and grabbed his hips, pulling him deeper into me. He started to thrust ardently, grunting with each motion as sweat built up on his brow.

 

His hair stuck to his neck, damp with desire. He pressed his lips to my neck again, driving into me deeper as he did so.

 

“Yes!” I moaned, “Yes! Ryan! Yes!”

 

My moans came from deep within me as pleasure I’d never before experienced ravaged my body. I gasped for breath, but deep breathing eluded me. All I could do was succumb to pleasure and succumb to our desires for each other which had been hidden for so long.

 

“I want to take you from behind,” he growled.

 

I couldn’t believe how long he’d lasted. While I was already exhausted, his cock was ready for a few more rounds. I couldn’t deny him — nor did I want to. I eased onto my stomach and before I could get on all fours, he pressed my frame into to bed and slid into my tightness.

 

I gasped. From behind, his cock had an even tighter squeeze. As he plunged into my wetness, euphoria blasted through me.

 

“Ohhh!” I cried.

 

“That’s right… Take that dick baby…” he growled.

 

I moaned again, arching my hips and bouncing them back to meet his large cock.

 

“Don’t… stop…” I whimpered.

 

I didn’t have to tell him twice. He squeezed my ass cheeks, spreading them slightly as he pounded more furiously. Heat, pain and pleasure tightened my hole and each thrust burst through delivering more satisfaction than the last. 

 

“Yes…” I whimpered as I climaxed again.

 

This time, I was exhausted. My body shuddered and trembled with each new thrust. I whimpered, too tired to scream and too sensitive to avoid a climax that would force me to. 

 

Detecting my complete gratification, Ryan slowed down. He made love to me nice and slow, kissing my neck and back as I whimpered. I could feel him stiffening within me. More romance sent his arousal into over drive and I knew he didn’t have long before he needed to finish.

 

I gently raised my hips, allowing him greater access to the sopping slit between my legs which cried out for more of him no matter how tired I felt. I gripped the sheets as he pressed his weight into me. He slid between my thighs, nearly tickling them with his slow, focused strokes.

 

I moaned as I climaxed again, a deep, throbbing climax that overtook my senses slowly.

 

“I’m cumming,” he growled, approaching his own climax.

 

He let out a cathartic cry as he released inside me. His hardness twitched as thick ropes of his love juices coated the walls of my wetness. If we were lucky, this would end up as planned and we would have a little Maggio on the way. He shuddered and pulled out of me, rolling onto his back and giving me the perfect view of his attractive physique.

 

I nestled next to him, resting my head on his chest.

 

“We really did it,” I muttered, still in disbelief that I’d married Ryan, my best friend of all those years.

 

“We did,” he murmured, grabbing a strand of my hair and twirling it betwixt his fingers.

 

“Tomorrow, we see Italy together for the first time.”

 

I nestled in closer to him, allowing his warmth to cover me.

 

“I can’t wait.” 

 

END OF BONUS STORY

 

BWWM Romance On Audio Book | Jamila Jasper Interracial Romance Audio Collection

If you enjoy a gentle, calm female voice reading to you, you'll enjoy my collection of interracial romance novels, novellas and short stories on audio. 

I've expanded my narrators so even if you haven't been fond of past narrators, there are multiple beautiful, dulcet voices that will make any erotic romance audiobook journey a pleasant and titillating experience.

Indulge in my complete collection listed below and remember to sign up for my email list (bit.ly/jamilajasper) to get updates on my upcoming audiobooks, Cocky Cowboy and 9-Inch Addiction.

Bookmark this page so you can come back to it. I'll update as soon as new audiobooks are available so you'll always have this "quick stop" when you're looking for fresh books to listen to.

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