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Love For A Thousand Years Novel

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His Rogue Princess- Medusa
"Strip" Medusa's breath hitched on hearing his command, she could have argued but it had no room for discussion. She took off the face-covering scarf, her fingers trembled as she bend to slowly slide off her long pink skirt then took off her panties. Her thighs were coated with arousal which dripped down as she stood up parting her long silver hair to a side, arching her back to take off the bralette. Medusa was all naked infront of him, her clothes lying at his feet when she peered at him through her eyelashes. Her thighs clenching on seeing him drinking her with a wild animalistic lust in his eyes which had darkened as his pupils dilated. "Rhy-" "On the bed, face down, ass up." Medusa gasped softly when he took off his long coat throwing it down along with her clothes. "NOW" she didn't need to hear anything after that as she scrambled on the bed getting on all fours arching her back and raising her ass for him. She put her head down turning to a side watching him taking off his belt, her cheeks burning crimson at the exposing position her body was in. She was completely bare to him, her body all for him to do as he wished, to play it like an instrument for himself. All ready for his punishments. "Keep your hands at the back" The bed dipped behind her as he settled on bed. He held both her wrists binding them together with a leather cloth..the rough belt he had taken off. Her heavy breathing was only sound that could be heard and his intense gaze on her was the only thing she could focus on. Minutes passes when he didn't touched Medusa making her squirm. A loud smack upon her butt made her yelp in surprise which soon turned into a wanton moan. His hands massaged her ass digging his fingers as his large calloused palms gently gave them a squeeze. "You will listen to me little girl." His lips traced her earshell whispering it to her.
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Keep the Baby, Leave the Man
Urban RomanceWhen Andrew Bergman's 99th mistress seeks me out, I'm in the middle of a manicure session. She tosses me an ultrasound report. "You must be Andrew's wife, right? I'm pregnant with his baby, so you'd better divorce him soon." I merely shoot her a glance before pulling out a stack of evidence recording her feats of sleeping around with other men and throwing them in her face. The woman's attitude went through a 180-degree change. She ripped up the report instantly. "I'll cut off all ties with Andrew right away!" I admire my freshly done nails, which are painted sanguine red—just like blood. I did spend eight hours on them, after all. One minute later, I tell the nail tech, "You can get rid of them now." After all, I have a "ferocious battle" in bed tonight. It'll be difficult for me to put my skills to good use if I still have my fake nails on. Ever since I got married to Andrew, I've been either dealing with his mistresses or on my way to dealing with them. I've long since become the biggest laughingstock in the upper crust. Whenever the other socialites see me, they tend to make fun of me by asking me for tips and tricks to discover if their spouses have cheated on them. Honestly speaking, I don't care about Andrew's flings with other women. What I care about is the fact that those women will fight with me for his wealth. Besides, whenever I discover a new mistress, Andrew agrees to fulfill one wish for me unconditionally. This time, I wish to have a child with him.
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