Coming Up: Billionaires, BBW, Aliens and Beasts

Look for more–LOTS more–of The Billionaire’s Wife soon, and at least one new installment of Galactic Concubine. And… that might be it for this month. Getting TBW off my plate is going to be a big challenge, but I love Felicia and Anton and I can’t wait to follow them through to the end of their journey. I hope it will wrap up this month, but definitely by the beginning of December. And I have a delicious new story in the works–another BBW billionaire menage, with a bit of a twist on the genre. The spiritual successor to Maddy, if you will. I have had requests to continue Maddy’s story, so I’ll also be thinking hard about that, too. And of course I’m going to branch out a bit. Werewolves, beasts, and breeding, oh my! You know. The really filthy stuff. With mushy twoo wub, because I am a romantic like that. Here. Have some of The Billionaire’s Wife Part 6. Coming soon to an e-reader near you!
 “Tell me, Felicia,” he said. “Have you ever had a spanking before?” Oh god. “No,” I said. “Except when I was a really little kid. But my nanny stopped spanking me when I stopped responding to it.” “Oh?” he said. His fingers drifted over the crack of my ass, skating against the sensitive skin there, then going further down, until he was probing the hot delta at the apex of my thighs. Blood rushed to follow his touch, and I swayed on my feet, lightheaded. “I dare you to resist it now.” Dare? Dare was my last name, I was fond of saying. But I didn’t tell him that. I didn’t want to bait him. I wanted to fuck him. And if I had to go through a spanking to do it, well, that was fine. I could pretend to enjoy it. “Stay,” he commanded, and the warmth of his hand retreated, leaving me shivering in the cool air, my ass exposed like a full moon to the night. Suddenly I had a nervous thought: anyone could look out of the house, or any house on either side of us, and see me. The garden wasn’t exactly private. But then the sound of Anton dragging a heavy metal chair over the concrete captured my attention, and I forgot my compunctions. I heard him shift, his clothes moving against each other, and then I knew he was sitting down. “Felicia,” he said. “Come lie across my lap and recieve your punishment.” I wanted to say no. I wanted to turn around and go inside. But part of me also wanted to see what was going to happen. Curiosity killed the cat? Curiosity would be the end of me. I turned to see him sitting languidly in an old, iron chair, sprawled out as though he were on a couch in a warm room, one foot stuck out, one arm over the back. His thighs, straining against the fine fabric of his trousers, looked full and inviting. I wanted to squeeze them, to chew on them. I wanted to wrap my legs around them and ride them to heaven. I hadn’t straddled him yet, and I wanted to. What would his hips feel like, pounding into me? What would it feel like to be impaled under him, impaled on top of him? Swallowing, I walked across the short distance to him. The grit of dust scratched under my feet. He watched me. His green eyes seemed to glow in the light of the city around us, looking straight through my skin to the person underneath. I felt like he knew me, even though that couldn’t be true. He had wrung me out, hung me up to dry and twist in the wind, and I wanted more. I hated rich men, men who wanted only to possess, not to love, and yet I was a slave to him. With every touch of his hand, he unmade me and remade me again. I laid down over his lap, my ass cold and bare, and stared at the pattern of the poured concrete under my face. His thighs burned against me, warm and inviting. The heat we would make would drive the cold away. But not before he had taken his fill of my submission. One warm hand moved against my thighs, squeezing, rubbing, and I had to force myself not to squirm. My heart hammered against my chest, beating against my bones, looking for a way out. Fingers moved up, parted my slick pussy lips, revealing me to the cold, and I moaned softly. “Fight it, Felicia,” he whispered. “Don’t give in.” Then he lifted his hand, and I knew he was going to spank me. But that knowledge did nothing to prepare me for it…