Falling for my Dirty Uncle: A Virgin and Billionaire Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Falling for my Dirty Uncle

  Also By Naughty Angel Publishing

  Dedication

  Description

  Author’s note

  WEDDING INVITATION

  THE CAPITALIST CHRONICLE

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  THE CAPITALIST CHRONICLE

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  THE CAPITALIST CHRONICLE

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  THE CAPITALIST CHRONICLE

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  DILF

  Dirty Daddy

  Buyer’s Market

  Mr. President

  Princely Passions

  Python

  Wicked Lil’ Brat

  Falling for my Dirty Uncle

  A Virgin & Billionaire Romance

  By Alexis Angel

  Copyright 2018 by Naughty Angel Publishing

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work is intended for adults only.

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  Also By Naughty Angel Publishing

  Abby Angel

  Men of the House

  Woman of the House

  Mergers & Acquisitions

  Profit & Lace

  Boxers & Briefs

  Secrets & Silk

  Goldicox

  Harem

  Show & Sell

  Alexis Angel

  Jailbait

  Red & Blue

  Wicked Lil Brat

  Python

  Men of the House

  12 inches

  Woman of the House

  The Virgin Market

  DILF

  Dirty Daddy

  Gambling For The Virgin

  Mr. President

  Profit & Lace

  Stories From The 6 Train

  24 Inches

  100 Days

  Cindersmellya

  The Biggest Licker

  Lust Muscle

  Princely Passions

  Offense & Defense

  Blessed

  Head Hunter

  Single TV Dad

  Brittney vs. Banker

  Cunning Linguist

  36 Inches

  Dirty Darcy

  Kim vs. Stepbrother

  Protein Shake

  Executive Engagement

  Boardroom Bride

  Dark Angel

  The Virgin Market

  Gambling For The Virgin

  Buyer’s Market

  Hostile Work Environment

  Murder/Love

  Three Beasts

  Seven Deadly Sinners

  Overtime

  12 Days

  10 Commandments

  Overworked

  Captive Bride

  Dedication

  To Alfonso

  Description

  So sweet. So good.

  And so off limits.

  But I'm about to push those limits.

  And I won't stop 'til she cries uncle.

  Mira. Body of a goddess.

  Pure perfection.

  She walks in and I know I'll make her mine.

  She likes what she sees.

  Wants a piece of me.

  And I'm about to give it to her.

  Hard.

  I don't care if she's my brother's new step-daughter.

  I don't care what s#*t goes down.

  Or the fact that her company is on the line.

  Not anymore.

  Because he only thing going down now…

  Will be one dirty uncle.

  Author’s note

  Love is a complicated and beautifully messy thing. No one knows when it will show up in our lives, nor how it will present itself. There’s no cookie cutter version of love and no blueprint for who we’ll fall in love with. Fortunately, and unfortunately.

  I believe that’s one of the reasons why I love writing romance so much. It’s in these pages, where I—and you, my Angels—can explore every manifestation that love takes on.

  And personally, I like to push against the preconceived conceptions of what we think of as an ideal love. I think it’s more fun that way!

  To me, that’s what this book is all about. It’s a love affair that might appear to the outside world as wrong or taboo. But once you truly understand the connection that Mira and Owen have, you’ll see that it’s so much more than just a scandalous relationship. It’s about their journey in figuring out what they want in life and going for it regardless of what other people tell them to do. They follow their heart and claim their own stories and reputations—together! It’s exciting, raw, and as always...hot!

  At its core, Mira and Owen’s love story pushes boundaries, but it also seeks to shine a light on a romance that’s unexpected and a love that’s all-consuming and powerful. A type of love that can lead you to your true happiness, whatever that may be.

  I hope you enjoy getting a little dirty, Angels! I know I did. And thanks for being so adventurous with me!

  Xoxo

  Alexis

  WAIT!

  Please use the TOC (Table of Contents located in the upper left area of your screen) to navigate your way through this book. If you’re zoomed out and you’re seeing a smaller version of the book and it is flipping through that way, please press the center of your screen to get you out of page flip mode.

  Thanks!

  Alexis Angel

  WEDDING INVITATION

  TOGETHER WITH THEIR FAMILIES

  CAROL WINIFRED WILDER

  AND

  CARL CARLSON WESTBROOK

  REQUEST THE PLEASURE OF YOUR PRESENCE AS THEY EXCHANGE WEDDING VOWS AT THE WESTBROOK ESTATE.

  SOUTHAMPTON, NEW YORK

  THE CAPITALIST CHRONICLE

  A “Wild West” Wedding: Carl Westbrook to Marry Carol Wilder

  By Lis Langley

  New York—The night Carl Westbrook brought his future fiancée, Carol Wilder, to his investment firm’s cocktail party, he says his stocks went straight up. Westbrook, 56, adds that the two lovebirds had met online the week before.

  “I called the escort…um…matchmaking service, and they sent her right over. Who has time to meet people in the real world anymore?”

  Wilder, who likes to tell people she’s 39 and often gets away with it, says it was love at first swipe.

  “His profile information was right on the money—a silver fox with a heart of gold. I was diamond—uh, dying to meet him.”

  Only a few months after their first date, Westbrook popped the question in front of
the New York Stock Exchange on Wall Street. A statement released earlier this week announced that the wedding will take place this weekend at the Westbrook family’s mansion in upstate New York.

  The two are impatient as ever to get hitched. Wilder, who was at her cake tasting at the trendy Under East Side Bakery during the interview, is still making final decisions on the menu.

  “Chocolate lavender, elderflower macadamia…there are a lot of unusual flavors here,” she says. “Where’s Betty Crocker when you need her?”

  The maid of honor will be 25-year-old Mira Wilder, the self-made CEO of Wilder Lingerie, and Carol’s daughter from a previous relationship.

  Considered to be one of New York’s most eligible bachelorettes, Mira will be accompanied by the son of one of Westbrook’s partners, who did not wish to be named in this article.

  “I’m happy for my mom,” Mira says. “Carl is the most generous man she’s brought home so far.”

  It may help that Westbrook is listed as an angel investor in Wilder Lingerie’s million-dollar seed round, which was announced shortly after his engagement to Carol.

  “With his investment, I’m going to revolutionize the way single mothers like my mom are treated in the workplace, starting with better access to childcare and health benefits.”

  It is still unknown at this time if Owen Westbrook, Carl’s half-brother, will be attending the wedding. Or if he was even invited. Affectionately known as the ‘Bastard Billionaire,’ Owen is the son of legendary lingerie model Lacey Garter. His ageless good looks are genetic, but the 40-something tycoon owes his billions to a series of wise investments in real estate, publishing, and other ventures.

  As part of the terms of her settlement with Owen and Carl’s father, Garter is forbidden from visiting the mansion and will not be attending the wedding. It is a possibility that such an arrangement is in place for Owen.

  Owen, who has never been married, did not comment further on his attendance at the wedding. “But I wish the blushing bombshell the best of luck being married to my crusty old brother,” he says.

  We at The Capitalist Chronicle send our best wishes to the happy couple and our cheers to the whole family! This reporter can’t wait to see how the Wild West family settles into their luxurious life together. I’m sure however the gold and diamonds are managed, it’ll be nothing but entertaining.

  For more updates on what will be the event of the season, stay with Lis Langley. As always, I aim to keep my dear readers informed on the many affairs of the Westbrook and Wilder’s.

  Chapter 1

  Owen

  “Get your ass in here, you dirty little slut,” I growl as I yank the bridesmaid by her wrist into the butler’s pantry and kick the door shut behind us.

  I slap said ass, and she gives a little half-squeal-half-moan as we stumble further into the dimly lit room.

  It’s pretty massive for a butler’s pantry, but that’s my brother for you. Always making sure he has the most oversized everything. Overcompensating much?

  Yeah, he fucking is.

  Asshole didn’t even bother inviting me to his wedding. Always felt threatened by me. Intimidated by the fact that his younger brother does everything better without even trying.

  Including getting all the hottest women. Yeah, so maybe I’ve stolen a few women from him over the years, but like I said: he’s overcompensating.

  What can I say?

  Bitches fucking love me. Flock to me. Practically beg for a taste of my twelve-inch cock.

  Much like this little slut right here. Yeah, I saw the way she was eyeing me when I walked into the reception—because fuck the ceremony, I’m only here for the party.

  I saw right away how hard her nipples were through her gauzy bridesmaid’s getup. Practically panting. Soaking wet, I guarantee it.

  And I’m about to confirm that shit right the fuck now.

  “Oohhh, Owen,” she moans. “This is so bad.”

  “Don’t pretend you aren’t a naughty little slut,” I say, whipping her around and pulling her towards me.

  Her tight little body is practically vibrating. I reach down for a handful of her dress and yank it up around her waist.

  Red lace thong and garter belt. Nice. I slide my hand up her thigh slowly, making her legs shake.

  Already. Damn, I’m good.

  With a smirk on my face, I watch her as I dip my fingers inside that lace.

  Yep, like I said. Soaking fucking wet.

  I slide my finger across her slit, flick my thumb over her swollen clit, then thrust two fingers deep inside her.

  “Fuck,” she squeals, clutching my shoulders as if her life depends on it.

  “That’s right…baby…”

  Yeah, I don’t even know her fucking name. Not that it matters.

  My name is the only one that matters here. Owen fucking Westbrook. That’s the only thing she’ll be screaming in just a few short minutes.

  It’s almost too easy. Women fall on their knees with nothing more than a nod of my head. All the damn time.

  If it didn’t mean I got the fucking hottest women whenever I want, I almost might be bored by it all.

  But fuck, let’s be real.

  Who I am I to deprive the women of this world of the pure pleasure I can provide?

  I’m not the world’s most renowned billionaire bastard playboy for nothing. It’s almost like my fucking duty or some shit to bestow orgasms on the lucky ladies of my choosing.

  I pull my fingers from her dripping pussy and lift them to her mouth, slipping them inside.

  “Mmm,” she moans.

  She meets my eyes with a saucy grin and dutifully licks my fingers clean.

  “That’s right,” I say. “Now it’s my turn for a taste.”

  I glance over her head and get a wicked idea. In one smooth motion, I pull her dress up and over her head and shove her back—right into the ostentatiously decorated tiered wedding cake.

  “Unnggh,” Slutty Bridesmaid gasps, her eyes wide. “The cake!”

  “Mm, you want some?”

  There she is, spread out before me, ass right on the cake, looking good enough to eat. I reach behind her and scoop up a handful of thick, creamy white icing with one hand, then hook my fingers in her thong and rip it off with one hard yank, the tearing of the thin fabric making me smirk when her eyes go even wider.

  In the next instant, I’m smearing the thick cream all over her thighs and pussy. She’ll look even better here soon when my own thick cream is covering her, making her good and sticky.

  I pop her tits out of her bra, then grab more icing and spread it over her.

  “There. Now you’re good enough to eat.”

  Leaning over her body that’s now arching toward me, I lap at her full tits, licking up the icing then feeding it to her with my tongue. I go back for seconds, drawing her hard nipples into my mouth one by one, getting rock fucking hard at the sounds she makes as I flick my tongue across her sensitive peaks.

  “More. Owen, please…I need more.”

  Begging for it. What a dirty little slut. But I’m happy to oblige.

  I drop down to my knees and hook her legs over my shoulder as her moans and pants grow louder and heavier. She bucks her hips up toward my face.

  Fuck yes.

  I grip her thighs and spread them wide, taking in the view, but just as I’m about to dive in, I hear a noise on the other side of the room.

  Standing just inside the door is a girl. Well, I guess she’s a woman, considering that body—but fuck, she looks young. And sexy as hell.

  And she’s standing there, eyes wide, blonde curls bouncing as she backs up slowly.

  God. She’s fucking gorgeous. Right now, this bridesmaid in front of me—legs spread, clit swollen, and begging for attention—doesn’t do a thing for me. Not with this girl standing here.

  Watching.

  She’s fucking watching. Looking like she knows she should leave. But for whatever reason just fucking can’t.

&nbs
p; Okay, then. I can work with that.

  I arch an eyebrow at her, my lips quirking to one side, then I run my tongue up Slutty Bridesmaid’s right thigh. She cries out and quivers under my touch, but I don’t fucking care.

  I’m not thinking about her anymore. My eyes are locked on this beautiful blonde in front of me. Just as hers are on me.

  I’m in tune with every tiny movement of her body.

  How she leans forward slightly. How her eyes widen even more. How her pupils are dilated, her eyes so dark with desire I can’t even tell what color they are.

  Pulling back slightly, I drag my tongue up the bridesmaid’s left thigh now.

  Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking. I’m so fucking bad, right?

  Damn fucking straight I am.

  I’m loving every fucking second of this. As my tongue is inches from the pussy that’s spread so invitingly before me, covered in sweet cream, I watch my little voyeur.

  Her nipples are hard beneath her—oh, what’s this? She’s a bridesmaid too, apparently. Whoever picked out these thin-ass dresses deserves a hat tip.

  Then her hand, previously covering her mouth in what looked like an innocently horrified display—though I fucking know better because I’m reading all her signs—trails down her face, and she bites gently on the tip of her finger.

  And…fuck. Yeah, so I thought I was rock-hard earlier, right?

  Not even close. Not with this girl watching me like she wishes she were the one with my head between her legs.

  Okay, angel. You like that? Let me show you exactly what I can do.

  I grip the bridesmaid’s ass and pull her to my face, forgoing the tease and going straight for the money. Or rather, the honey.

  And it’s a good thing the bridesmaid screams out as I thrust my tongue deep into her wet pussy. Because our little visitor gasps pretty damn loud herself at my blatant display.

  Because not only am I tongue-fucking this bridesmaid right here in front of her, but I’m watching her. My gaze raking over her body. Taking her all in.