When Annabella Blanca finds herself on the doorstep of her new home, she is terrified, yet hopeful of what her new life will be.Griffin Stone has locked himself away from the world. One minor mix-up, and all his carefully built walls come crashing down. When love finds its way in to even the darkest of hearts, will it be enough to stand the greatest tests? Can beauty own the beast? Warning: This book contains a scarred hero, a virgin bride, insta-love, and tons of sex.
CHAPTER 1 *Annabella*
Alive. I don’t think I’ve felt this alive since my father’s death two weeks ago. While I’m afraid of what’s to come, I welcome the feeling. It’s better than the numbness I’ve been living in. Anxiety was a constant knot in my stomach these days. The fear of not knowing what was to come was the hardest part. My heart was pounding so hard against my ribcage I’m almost sure the driver can hear it.
Tearing my eyes away from the lush green hills, I focused back on Logan. When he’d picked me up from the agency in Seattle, he said that his boss, Mr. Stone, had sent him to retrieve me. I have not met my future husband yet, but I felt a pang of disappointment when it sunk in that he did not turn up to meet me himself.
I dressed my part to the best of my abilities; a yellow sundress with white polka dots that came to a stop slightly above my knees along with a pair of simple white flats. A lady at the agency even helped to curl my usually straight, long black hair, tying it up in a white bow to match my dress. I started to second-guess my choice of wardrobe after seeing the look the driver had given me, mumbling something about how “you don’t look like what the boss usually orders”.
One thing I can assume, just from my driver, is that my husband-to-be must be a very, very rich man. Coupled with the fact that this is one of the nicest cars I’ve ever seen and overhearing John at the agency say that I’d fetched a higher price because my virginity was still intact. I wasn't trying to hold on to it, really, I just never got a chance to have a life outside of my family. Growing up in Mexico City, my father and mother rarely let me out of their sight, which is understandable from some of the horror stories I’ve heard over the years. My father did his best to hide me away, even going to the extent of having my mother homeschool me.
After mother was killed by Mexican drug cartel when I was fifteen, I took on her role in the family. Father loved her dearly and was utterly destroyed by her passing. He merely existed afterward, and I often felt that he’d only kept living to keep me safe. That was up till two weeks ago where he had a massive heart attack, causing my little world to come crashing down.
I am completely alone in this world. That loneliness was probably the main reason why I was in this car to begin with.
I sat at father’s bedside for three whole days before he’d finally slipped away from me. I had absolutely no idea what I would do without him. I’d never been so terrified in my life. The thought of returning to my home without him, without his protection, it just wasn’t going to happen. I would die, or worse. While father may not have let me out of the house much, I still hear the screams, the gunfire and the police sirens outside my window every day. Father said they left us alone because he paid his dues, whatever that meant. I have no money, my Spanish isn’t fluent, and my bright blue eyes give away the fact that I’m not one hundred percent Mexican.
When I shared my fears with father’s nurse, she gave me a man’s card. A man who could get me out of Mexico and give me a whole new life in America. Mother was American and often spoke wonderful things about her country. I grew up speaking English, with Spanish as my second language. Mother always said we would move to America together one day, but that dream died the same day she did.
And that was how I found myself faced with this choice. I kept asking myself if this made me a whore. While I might not be selling myself to a different man each day, I was still selling myself to one. I wonder how he’s like. My parents’ marriage was a beautiful one. They loved each other deeply and I longed to have that with someone; to make a home and fill it with children, to love without living in fear each day. While we may not have had much, father and I had love and now, I have no one. I should be thankful I had even made it out alive though. I am never going back.
Father always said I was the most stubborn person he has ever met. I drove him crazy with my constant chatter and always needed to have things done a certain way, but he said that I would make a wonderful wife one day. I made it my goal to make father smile after my mother passed away. Nothing made me happier than when I could get a laugh from him. I’m still not sure if I ever truly did though. Maybe if my mother were still alive, he would have fought harder to stay, had the will to live.
I’m determined not to lose the battle this time. I will be a wonderful wife—that’s the plan, anyway. I’ve talked to some of the girls at the agency before I was picked up. I asked a lot of questions about what I should do and what American husbands would like from their wives. Most of the things they told me were sex related but I took as many notes as I could. After all, most of the women there were call girls. If anyone knew how to make a man happy, it would be them. The agency not only did mail-order brides, they also housed women who men could rent by the hour. Some of the women tried to talk me into staying, saying that I would be freer there rather than being trapped in a loveless marriage. I had my U.S. citizenship because of my mother, but I wanted protection. And love. They laughed at the idea of a happy-ever-after, claiming I was being naïve, and that if a man had to get a mail-order bride then there must definitely be something wrong with him.
I figured maybe he was just lonely. But what if he’s a cruel man? my mind kept asking me. Logan, the driver, seems nice enough. We may have only spoken a few words to each other but he put me at ease. Would such a nice man take me to someone who would cause me harm? Maybe I really am naïve…
Drawing my eyes up to the rear view mirror, my gaze met Logan’s. Embarrassed at being caught staring at him, I went back to looking out the window. The sun has almost fully set now and instead of vast green fields, there are now hundreds and hundreds of trees blocking everything else out.
“We’re almost there, sugar,” Logan said in a slow drawl, pulling my eyes back to him once again. “You sure you wanna do this? You look like you’re about to bolt from this car. You must be new. I’ve never seen you before.”
I’m unsure of what he meant. Has my future husband been married through the agency before?
“Has Mr. Stone been married before?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.
Logan released a bark of laughter along with a forceful no.
I guess that means he’s been using the call girls then. I’m not sure which is more unsettling, the thought of my husband using call girls, or that his driver thinks the idea of him getting married is laughable. These thoughts aren’t doing much to help settle the pounding of my heart.
“Here we are. Welcome to Creston Falls.”
Logan slowly pulls the car up to a big black gate that looks to be about fifteen feet tall. Rolling down the window, he punches in a code and the gate opens. As we pulled up the long, rocky drive, I took in the majestic sight. The mansion resembled a castle out in the middle of nowhere. If this is to be my home, I have no idea how I am ever going to keep this place clean.
Stepping out of the car, I tried to settle my thoughts. Out of the corner of my eyes, something moved by one of the windows, catching my attention. Stepping forward, trying to get a better look, I saw a shadow of a man back away from the window.
Turning to Logan, I asked, “Was that Mr. Stone?”
“He’s the only one home right now, so I reckon it was. Go on in, I’m sure he’s waiting for you. I’ll park the car in the garage over there,” he said, pointing to a large building to the left of the mansion. “When you're done, have Mr. Stone call me or walk on over and I’ll take you back to the city if you like.”
Before I could ask what he meant, he hopped back in the car, leaving me to my fate. Taking a deep breath, I took the final ten steps to the door and slowly opened it.
CHAPTER 2 *William*
I hate the wait more than anything else. The anticipation of having someone unfamiliar see my face for the first time. I used whores because even though I shouldn't care what women think, I still do. I paced back and forth in my bedroom, wearing grooves into the carpet, constantly looking out the windows to see if Logan is back with the latest one yet. It's been months since I last called the agency, and I am on the edge. I hate this part of myself. This need for release I can't seem to take care of myself. Sure, I can get by with jerking off for a few months, but it feels so goddamn empty. Even fucking a whore who couldn’t give a shit about me is better than fucking my own sorry, scarred-up hand.
Looking down at my hands and seeing those mangled scars does nothing to ease my anxiety. I know the looks this new whore will give me. Pity, disgust, revulsion… At least until she remembers what I paid for to have her here for the next few hours. Most of the time they just focus on the dollar signs. I'm not an idiot. I know what I look like. A monster.
I paced crossed the room again to check the windows. It's raining and it’s slowly getting dark outside.
I run my hand down the right side of my face, feeling the familiar jagged lines. I tried to block the memories from my mind and focus on the present. I have enough to worry about without adding onto my stress.
Light flooded into the room and I looked down in time to see Logan pulling up to the manor. I watched the car carefully to see if it's the same blonde from the previous time. At least a familiar girl wouldn't spend half the time I paid for pretending not to stare at me. I moved the curtain to the side to get a better look. The car door opened and I saw a dark-haired woman step out.
My chest tightened and I was momentarily stunned. As her head lifted up to look towards where I stood, I was shaken out of my daze. Stepping away from the window, I clutched my chest.
She’s the most beautiful and innocent thing I have ever seen in my life. I had barely caught a glimpse of her, and I felt breathless, overwhelmed. Beauty. So pure and perfect.
Who sent that woman to me? Is this some kind of sick joke? The agency must be pissed at me for going so many months without placing an order. This has to be their idea of a good fucking laugh. Send the scarred-up freak a new girl. Well, fuck them. I’ll send this girl back ruined. I’ll show them the monster they’re laughing at.
Bursting through the double doors of my bedroom suite, I stomped down the hall and made my way down the stairs with a roar. I was breathing hard and angry as hell by the time I got to the main entrance. Jerking the front door open so hard that it slammed against the wall, the dark-haired angel standing outside my front door lets out a small sound of shock. I guess nobody let her in on the scarred monster joke.
"Get inside," I bellowed, livid that she’s so perfect and that this was just some game. I intended to get my money’s worth and show the agency that Griffin Stone wasn’t a man they could fuck with.
Walking past me on shaky legs, trying to stay as far away from me as possible, she made her way into the foyer and stood there with fearful big blue eyes, looking at me as if I was about to explode. She's not that far off the mark.
I slammed the front door closed and started prowling towards her. She backed up further into my home, and I stalked her, step for step. Lowering my head, I could feel the menacing smile on my face.
"They didn't warn you about the freak at Creston Falls, did they?"
She kept quiet as she continued to back up slowly and cautiously, like she’s trying to not make any sudden movements. I scanned my eyes over the innocent yellow dress she’s wearing several times. I knew she’s a paid whore, but she pulled off the virginal look really well. Her dark hair, long and soft. If I weren’t so fuming mad, I would have raked my fingers through it. I wanted to nuzzle it. But all I could see now was her beauty mocking me, and it made my blood boil.
"What's your name?" I growled out.
"Annabella," she said, barely above a whisper.
"Well, Annabella, it looks like you've been sent here as a statement. But I intend to make one of my own tonight."
My anger flowed like molten lava through me, but I can't help but feel this incredible pull towards her. I feel like I should be protecting her from myself, like she’s mine to watch over and not just a paid whore.
As she continued to backup, she soon hit the bottom of the staircase. I had successfully steered her where I wanted her to go. Now it's time to quit the game of cat and mouse and get down to why she’s here. She stopped when her feet could go no further and looked up at me with wide eyes.
"Turn around and go up the steps, Annabella. You're about to get what you came here for."
I could see her chin begin to tremble, but she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. I could see that she had made the decision to be tough and to do as I say. A small bit of pride wormed its way into my chest when I saw that there was still some fight left in her. Turning around, she walked up the steps with her head held high. I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d still be holding her head up high once I’m through with her.
I followed her closely up the stairs and grabbed her upper arm once we reached the top. A jolt passed through me when my hand touched her skin for the very first time. It was the strangest feeling. A scarred up hand touched her perfect skin and all of a sudden, my soul was shaking with need. I ignored the feel of her eyes on me. I knew she’s staring at the grotesque scars on my face. Everyone always does. Why would she be any different?
Not pausing to give my mind time to think about it, I pulled her by her arm towards the wing my bedroom was located in. I always took the whores to a guest room, as I didn’t like to mix them with my private life. But something about Annabella makes me want to have her as a part of my life. I’ll have plenty of time to think about the repercussions of this decision after she leaves. But at this very moment, I need her in my bed.
The double doors were still wide open from when I burst through them earlier. Stalking across the room, practically dragging her behind me, I pulled her in front of the four-poster bed and released her arm. Jerking her arm away from me, Anabella raised her chin in defiance. I’m always ready for a good fight. I felt the urge to shout at the world for the injustice of having someone so beautiful and perfect sent to me as a goddamn joke.
"Don't you ever put your hands on me in anger again!" she cried out.
I was a little shocked that she had spoken at all. The whores don’t usually speak. They do their job and then they leave. I could see that Annabella was different though. I could feel how different she was. I could also feel how fucking hard I was, so fucking hard I could barely walk. I love the challenging look in her eyes. This night might not be so bad after all.
"You can drop the innocent act. I plan on getting what I paid for. Now."
Her eyes widened in shock.
"Take your clothes off and get on the bed, Annabella. I'm tired of this bullshit act and I need to fuck. It's been months since I've had any pussy and I'm going to fuck you through the floor with that attitude of yours."
She looked stunned by my words. As if she hadn’t been talked to that way before. I could see tears starting to form in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.
"Is that how this is going to be, then?" she asked softly. "Is that what you want from me?" she whispered, and I could see her fighting the tears.
"I said drop the act, Annabella! This is not some fantasy I requested. The agency clearly sent you as a joke. They’ll know better than to fuck with me once I’m done."
Finally, one lonely tear made its way down her cheek, but she nodded and began to take her dress off. A part of my heart broke when I saw that she was upset by my words. I knew this was all just some elaborate scheme though. I needed to remember she’s being paid well for this act.
Slipping off her dress, she stood before me in a white lace strapless bra and white lace panties. Absolute perfection. Her gorgeous body and flawless, sun-kissed skin had not a single mark in sight. She had a small waist but was full and curvaceous everywhere else. Full breasts and wide hips. I’ve never seen such a beautiful body in my entire miserable life.
"Take the underwear off as well," I rasped out. I didn't realize how chocked up I got just from looking at her.
Annabella unhooked her bra and let it hit the floor. Her breasts were perky and ripe, her dark pink nipples hard and erect. My mouth began to water. I’m going to enjoy this more than anything I could imagine. Bending over, she slid her underwear off awkwardly, and I couldn’t help but wonder if her unpracticed skill was yet another act. When she straightened back up, I took in my fill of her pussy. Smooth and free of hair, I couldn’t wait to get inside her. It's been a long while since my dick has been inside the warm sheath of a woman’s body, but something about this perfect beauty standing in front of me has me aching like never before.
I pulled my eyes away from between her legs as she turned to climb onto the bed. I let out a groan at the sight of her round ass. It was curvy like her hips and had that unbelievable sexy cup where her ass met her legs. An ass like that belongs on a goddamn shrine. I’ll definitely be fucking her doggy-style tonight. And if we've got time before she takes off, I might even try and get inside her ass. I haven't done that with anyone from the agency before, but surely it's on the menu?
Climbing onto the bed, Annabella laid down in the middle. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as I made quick work of my clothes. Pulling off my dress shirt and slacks, I threw them haphazardly behind me before walking over to the side of the bed and pulled down my boxer briefs. I could feel Annabella staring at me and I knew she only saw my scars. They started on the right side of my face and continued down to my right arm and torso. I felt her gaze land on my dick.
"Looks like the girls forgot to tell you about something else as well."
My cock is big. I know it is. I've scared away enough of them to know that not all women believe that “bigger is better”.
"Please, Mr. Stone. I'm…I'm… I don't have any experience, and you look so big and angry."
I smirked. If this was the role she wanted to assume tonight, I was more than willing to play along.
"So you're the innocent virgin and I'm the big, bad wolf who is here to take you eh? Is that scene we’re acting out tonight? That’ll work well since I can't wait to eat you up, my dear. And you can cut the ‘Mr. Stone’ shit. It makes me sound like my grandfather."
Climbing onto the bed, I made way between her legs, grabbing her ankles and jerking them apart roughly. I needed to see all of her.
I never, ever went down on any of the women from the agency before. I felt that it was fair since I had never asked them to go down on me either. Normally, I just got in a quick fuck before they ran out of here as fast as they could.
I don’t like people touching me. It's been years since I’ve had a woman outside of a paid professional, and I can't remember when was the last time I had placed my mouth on a cunt. But this delicate beauty—this angel who’s laid out before me—has the most perfect pussy I’ve ever seen. I ran the tip of my index finger down her soft, puffy lips. They were covered in a thin sheen of shiny dew that made my mouth water. Her scent was intoxicating. She smells like sweet peaches and cream and I couldn’t stop myself from breathing her in. I stretched out on the bed and shouldered my way between her long, shapely legs, my hard cock pressed into the mattress and I began thrusting my hips as I lowered my nose to her delicious pussy.
Taking a deep breath, I filled my lungs with her scent, feeling my eyes roll back in bliss. "Fuck. You smell good." I felt her legs tensed as she tried to close them, but my wide shoulders forced her thighs to stay open for me. "Relax, Bella. I need this. I promise I'll make it really good for you. But if I don't bury my face in your cunt right this second, I might just die."
The second her slick petals touched my lips, I eat it like I stole it. I felt as though I couldn’t get in close enough or fast enough. Wrapping my arms under her firm ass, I pulled her hips down and closer to my mouth. I needed her entire pussy in my mouth her sweet nectar covering my face. I licked, sucked, nuzzled, and devoured every single inch of her. I had this overwhelming fear that she’s going to take my treat away and so I did everything I could to attach her pussy to me.
I heard her moans of pleasure as I felt her hips trying to undulate to my chaotic rhythm. Running her fingers through my hair, I smiled, thinking that her previous hesitancy was now thrown out the window. Here was a woman driven by her pleasure and she was letting her body follow my lead.
Her cries were growing louder and I pulled her tighter to my mouth. Focusing on her clit, I sucked it into my mouth, flicking my tongue across the little button several times before finally biting down onto it lightly.
That did the trick.I felt her orgasm seizes through her body, and she tightened her thighs, pushing her pussy further onto my mouth. mindlessly into the bed as she grinded out her pleasure against me.
Leaving her sticky-sweet honey covering my face, I slid up her sinful body, preparing to fuck the life out of her. I felt the urge to kiss her, but I knew this was a line I couldn’t cross. The girls from the agency have a strict no lips to the face rule, which I have to abide by it. Instead, I lowered my body on top of Annabella’s, using my forearms to support most of my weight before leaning down to nip at her ear. I was consumed with the need to sink into her silky warmth as soon as possible, but I also craved the intimacy, the closeness. I wanted more. I could feel the energy pulsing between us like a beat of a drum. Reaching down, I nudged my dick against her entrance.
"Be sure and shout Griffin next time, baby. As a matter of fact...feel free to scream it."
With that said, I slammed into her with all the force I have. In a split second, I was buried balls-deep in her tight warmth and I realize two things at once.
One: she was a virgin.
Two: I am so fucked.
I’m Alexa Riley! Mom, wife, and business woman by day and smut writer by night. I specialize in the Dirty Date Night reading. I wrote my first book, Owning Her Innocence, because well, I just couldn’t find any daddy books to my liking. So I sat down and just started writing, bringing the fantasies I find myself often dancing to in the dark of night to life, one page at a time.
Alexa Riley is my alter ego. I can’t let the other soccer moms know what I’m up to or the guys at work for that matter. Little do they know that they’ve got nothing on my dirty talk.
I’m here to give you a quick fix of filthy dirty smut. Got a few hours to kill? Then I’m what you’re looking for.