The Billionaire's Wedding Volume 3

When Lily met gorgeous billionaire Connor Templeton, they embarked on a grand love affair full of passion, drama, and danger. Now they are deliriously in love, and their wedding day is fast approaching.

But Connor's sociopathic ex, Miranda Lockwood, is plotting revenge. If her plan succeeds, it will rip Connor and Lily's lives apart.

With the help of Connor's right-hand men Johnny and Sebastian, there might be a chance to counteract Miranda's evil scheme. But will it be enough to save Connor and Lily's wedding day - and their marriage?


Steamy excerpt (Mature content):

    He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my neck. I closed my eyes and moaned as he nibbled and lightly licked his way up from my collarbone to my earlobe.
    “I’ve missed you,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire.
    “I missed you,” I whispered back.
    My body was pressed to his, and I could feel his cock growing. He was already semi-erect when we started, and now he was even firmer, his cock starting to jut out at an angle from his pants.
    I put my hand over the long shape beneath the fabric, felt the pronounced ridge of his head, ran my palm along his length as I felt him get even harder.
    “I’ve missed this,” I purred in his ear.
    He groaned as I slowly stroked him, letting my fingers grip him lightly in a circle.
    While he unbuttoned my blouse, I unzipped his pants. I reached inside his fly and the slit of his boxers and found what I was looking for: the hard, hot, circular thickness of his shaft. I circled my cool, soft fingers around his thickness and begin to lightly stroke, feeling the pulsing vein on top of his shaft, letting my fingers luxuriate in the thatch of hair at the base of his abdomen.
    He got so hard, he was almost bursting out of his pants.
    He became even more frenzied as he unsnapped my bra and took my breasts in his hands, my areolas one by one in his mouth. I tilted my head back and whimpered as his tongue slid over my erect nipples, teasing them, sucking them, sending a jolt of desire straight down between my legs.
    I fondled his balls with one hand in his pants, and clutched at his muscular back with my other, my nails trailing across his skin.
    “Jesus, this has to come off,” he said, trying to pull my skirt off without unzipping it.
    “Hold on, hold on,” I giggled, and undid it with my free hand. My other hand was still clutched around the base of his cock.
    He pushed the skirt to the floor and immediately clutched my ass, roughly gripping my cheeks with his strong hands. We kissed again, our tongues hot in each other’s mouths, until he pulled my hand out of his pants, lifted me up under my arms, and threw me down on the bed.
    I laughed as I bounced and came to a stop. Then I joyfully watched the rest of the show.
    He kicked off his shoes in a frenzy, pulled off his socks, and unbuckled his belt. His cock was already jutting out from his pants – so far that he had to stretch out his boxers to fit them over his swollen head. As his pants and underwear dropped, his erection bobbed up thick and long and stiff, the swollen head like a massive pink plum jutting towards the ceiling. A thin thread of pre-cum trailed from the tip, connected to his boxers like a spiderweb, until the cloth fell to the floor and the sticky strand broke.
    He crawled across the bed towards me, and I felt the scorching heat of the velvet-soft skin on his cock brush against my thigh.
    “Oh God,” I whimpered as he hooked his fingers in my thong and pulled it roughly down my legs and over my ankles, then tossed it across the room.
    He reached down between my thighs and stroked my lips with his fingers. I was sopping wet. He took the moisture from my pussy and massaged it with the pre-cum beaded on the tip of his cock, wetting himself down with both our juices.
    “Be gentle,” I whimpered. “It’s been a week – ”
    “Unnhh,” was all he answered as he took his fingers and guided his head between my lips. The wet slickness of his skin met mine, and he slowly pushed inside me.
    OH. MY. GOD.

Copyright 2012-2016 Olivia Thorne
No part of this excerpt may be reprinted or reused without author's permission.

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