Virgin – A Dark Billionaire Romance
Yesterday I’d never been kissed. Today every inch of me belongs to him.
I didn’t ask for a guardian, but it wasn’t up to me.
I disobeyed him, just to see what he would do.
Then I found out what happens to bad little girls.
She earned herself a taste of my belt. She got much more than that.
I knew this sassy princess would need a firm hand.
I planned to take her over my knee.
Then I decided to take her as mine.
Publisher’s Note: Virgin is a stand-alone sequel to Bronson, Carter, and Rockland. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
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Where to Stalk Her:
Charged with being the third ranking officer for the family mafia?
Piece of cake.
Charged with keeping the flighty baby cousin of the head of the family in line?
She’s young, smart, witty… and drop dead gorgeous. She’s five foot nine, and half of that height is her shapely legs. Glossy jet-black hair runs down her back. She’s perfected this little laugh and sassy flip of her hair over her shoulders. Drives the younger guys wild. The bone structure of her face has been likened to that of a Madonna. Dark perfectly arched brows, cheekbones to the high heavens, gliding down to draw attention to her full, glossy lips. A classic Italian beauty.
Who has no idea how beautiful she is. Or the effect she has on men.
Men I am magically supposed to keep from yearning for her. Sure, I can keep them away in proximity, but I can’t control the way they lust after her.
I seem to be the only single male immune to her charms.
Yes, she’s got an amazing body, a sharp mind, a quick wit. But she’s constantly late. Never met a deadline. Has no idea what a hard day of work is. Been coddled and spoiled since the day she was born. A daydreamer, always floating above the clouds. Or spending lazy afternoons basking on the shore, her nose stuck in one of her silly romance novels.
If I’m Type A, Adrianna is Type Z… the furthest from my kind possible.
And so, I was the only logical choice in the brotherhood to guard her.
It’s not that I don’t like her. Quite the opposite. I’ve observed her around the Parish. She’s kind, thoughtful. She loves animals, playing games with the children. She’s the only one who can lighten our leader’s stoic nature. She makes him laugh. I would find her to be as charming as everyone else does if she had a little taming. A few healthy boundaries, consequences for her whimsical, forgetful ways, a few trips over my knee, and she’d no longer infuriate me.
Alas. It’s not to be. Not yet, at least.
We have a hierarchy in the brotherhood. One put in place to protect our women. When a woman marries into the family, her husband is her protector. A man second to him is named, should her husband perish. But it’s only been enacted once. Recently in fact.
The man we are flying to the memorial of, Brett Bachman, was Rockland’s blood brother. He died three years ago. Rockland, next of kin, became responsible for Brett’s widow, Tess. At first, she was fine, needing him only to get through the funeral, the first memorial. The second year after Brett’s death, she began to spiral out of control, going down a dark tunnel of drinking and depression. Bronson enacted the hierarchy. Rockland moved in with her. Cared for her. Got her back on her feet. And they fell in love with one another.
I don’t fault Rockland for falling for Tess. She’s the kind of woman I usually find myself attracted to. Self-assured, hard worker. Devoted to the cause. Confident, knows her beauty. Dressing to accentuate her curves, bring out the highlights in her red hair. Calculated and cunning. A power player. She’s a tigress.
And Adrianna, a butterfly. Flitting about her day, clueless of the repercussions of her actions. Which is why she needs me.
Amazon Purchase Link: www.amazon.com/dp/B082DG4HC5 also in Kindle Unlimited