Falling for my Dirty Uncle: A Virgin and Billionaire Romance
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
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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.