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Authors: Allison Hobbs

Put A Ring On It (3 page)

BOOK: Put A Ring On It
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I
f they could see me now,
Harlow thought with a self-satisfied smile. According to statistics, a person with Harlow’s background was not expected to get very far in life.

Harlow sprayed her neck and then each wrist with a fragrance that was touted as the world’s most expensive perfume. Blissfully, she closed her eyes and inhaled the floral scent. A one-ounce, handmade crystal bottle adorned with a sparkling brilliant-cut white diamond on the collar, the perfume’s container was an exquisite piece of art.

Like all of her rich possessions, the sinfully expensive fragrance was a gift from Drake Morgan. Drake rented and sold exotic cars. He owned three locations on the east coast, and had recently begun increasing his fortune with online sales. Exporting luxury vehicles overseas, primarily to African countries, had become a very lucrative endeavor.

Ever since Drake had entered Harlow’s life, nothing had been the same. The past eighteen months had been like a montage of romantic movie scenes from an amazing love story.

Drake treated Harlow like a goddess, showering her with lavish gifts, and introducing her to a lifestyle that was so luxurious, she often had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t in the midst of an incredible dream.

With her hair in place and her makeup complete, she slipped into a curve-hugging blue dress, conveniently forgetting to put on panties. Smiling slyly, she knew Drake wouldn’t be able to resist such easy access to the goods.

Carrying an overnight bag, Harlow left her villa-style accommodations, and walked to the lobby of the exclusive resort.

“Good evening, Ms. Grant. Your car is waiting.” Efficiently, the concierge motioned for the bellhop to relieve Harlow of the travel bag. Despite his attempt at professionalism, the young man’s eyes roamed Harlow’s hourglass figure.

Harlow wasn’t offended. She was accustomed to male attention. Though her looks had caught Drake’s eye, he told her that it was her inner beauty that had captured his heart.

She slid inside the sleek black limo and relaxed against the sumptuous leather. As the car moved smoothly into the moonlit night, Harlow stared out the window, marveling at the magnificence of St. Croix: the lush greenery, the warmth.

She made a mental note to call her girls, Vangie and Nivea, and tease them. While they were freezing their butts off in Philly, dealing with blizzards and frigid weather, Harlow was basking in a tropical paradise.

Harlow accompanied Drake on his numerous business trips to several exotic locations, but St. Croix had become her favorite spot.

The limo glided to a stop near the pier. The driver opened the door. Outside the limo, Drake’s right-hand man, Alphonso, was there to greet her.

She gazed in awe at the three-story, mega-yacht that was named The Water Nymph.

Alphonso took her bag. “Drake is still in the meeting—tying up loose ends of the transaction. He wanted me to escort you onto the ship and make sure you’re comfortable.” Alphonso was all business; he didn’t crack a smile.

“Thanks, Alphonso.” Harlow fell into step with him as they headed toward the boarding ramp.

Harlow inhaled deeply, catching a whiff of the ocean breeze that carried the intoxicating scent of tropical flowers. She was far away from the squalid neighborhood where she’d grown up.

Music was pumping. The party was already in full swing. Talib Chitundu, a young and very wealthy African, was the host of The Water Nymph bash.

According to Drake, Chitundu had a penchant for luxury cars and a passion for pretty women, and he had no problem throwing tons of money around.

Scanning the guests, Harlow noticed that the party girls, as well as the female staff, were all flawlessly beautiful. There appeared to be at least four skimpy-dressed women to every man. No doubt, the men aboard The Water Nymph would have their every sexual fantasy fulfilled.

Harlow was relieved that Drake didn’t have a wandering eye. Drake was serious about his money, which was the only reason he was in any way affiliated with a fun-loving, ladies man like Talib Chitundu.

Carrying a tray with a variety of vividly colored drinks, a bikini-clad, blonde-haired beauty made her way to Harlow and Alphonso. Harlow took a drink from the tray.

“I’m going to wait for Drake in our cabin,” she told Alphonso.

In the solitude of her cabin, she sat on the private balcony, sipping a mango mojito and enjoying the tranquil view of the dark blue, Caribbean Sea.

She had a feeling that tonight was the night that Drake was going to propose. And tonight she was going to fuck him like there was no tomorrow.

When she heard the door open, she set the drink down and excitedly sprang to her feet.

Drake entered the cabin. Tall, with a distinguished and prominently angled face, Drake had a broad and muscular build. His mocha-bronzed skin looked kissed by the sun, a nice contrast with the light-colored suit he was wearing. Mouthwateringly sexy, Drake was a gorgeous man. For Harlow, he was heaven sent.

She rushed into his arms. The mere nine hours they’d been apart seemed like weeks. Bending, Drake gave her a bear hug. “I missed you.”

“Missed you more,” Harlow whispered, embracing him tightly. Her fingers glided across the fabric of his jacket, itching to touch his bare skin.

“You know I’m off my square if you’re not in a five-mile radius,” Drake said, his words tickling her neck. His large hands wandered downward, coasting over the sheer blue fabric. Palming her ass, he pulled her closer. Harlow could feel his erection straining inside his pants.

Desire rippled between her thighs. Damn, she was hot for him. So hot, she had to restrain herself from ripping Drake’s clothes off. “Do you know how much I love you?” she whispered.

“Tell me.”

“I love, worship, and adore you. You got me craving you like you’re a drug.”

“That makes two of us. We’re both sprung.”

Ready for her fix, Harlow lifted her head and offered parted lips.

Drake’s kiss was quick.

Confused, Harlow raised an eyebrow.

“We have to join the party, mix it up with our gracious host and his guests,” Drake explained. “I just sealed a major deal with
my man, and I don’t want Talib to feel like he’s being snubbed.”

Harlow winced at the thought of mingling, making small talk, and having to share this special night with other people. “With all those half-naked women out there, I don’t think Mr. Chitundu will miss us. I want a private party…just me and you,” she said, her lips pouty.

“We have to at least make an appearance. Just for a little while.” Harlow made a face. Determined to get her way, she pulled up her dress, enticing Drake by showing off her private body parts.

He breathed in roughly, groping her bare ass. “Aw, now, you’re not playing fair, coming at me with no panties on.” His voice was coarse with yearning.

His hard-on throbbed against her stomach. Harlow touched the thick bulge. It felt hot beneath her hand.

“We’ll mingle later. I need you,” she told him breathily.

“I’m all yours.”

Tormented by the heat that rose inside her, she tightened her hand around his rigid shaft.

Harlow reluctantly released Drake’s erection, while she pulled her dress over her head. At five-foot-nine, Harlow was statuesque, giving the impression of being model thin. But out of her clothes, she was long, shapely, and surprisingly thick, especially in the hip and thigh areas. Her plump rump was another hidden bonus.

Drake’s eyes lit up. He moistened his lips as he took in the magnificence of her physique. “Your body…so beautiful, baby.”

Being admired by the man she loved was thrilling. But she was too hot and bothered to enjoy the caress of her lover’s eyes. She wanted hands, lips, tongue. And dick. She was so horny, she could barely stand still. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d told Drake that she needed him. She needed to feel every thick inch of him, pounding inside her.

With trembling fingers, she unknotted Drake’s tie. Her hungry mouth kissed and licked his neck. Her breasts were full and heavy with desire. Her nipples were puckered, jutting out like thimbles.

Once the knot of his tie was undone, she yanked it from around his neck and flung it aside. Hurriedly, she began working on the buttons of his shirt.

With one arm in and the other out of its sleeve, Drake’s jacket hung at his side. Ridding himself of the jacket, he shook it off his arm, letting it drop. Knowingly, his lips took in the beaded nipples of Harlow’s painfully swollen breasts. “Is that better?”

She responded by pressing his head closer to her bosom, persuading him to take in a mouthful of hardened nipple and tender breast. Needing to be touched all over, she guided his hand down to another sensitive spot.

Searching for moisture, Drake’s fingers threaded through the honey-soaked thatch of hair that covered her mound. He parted the silken lips of her sex.

She shivered at his touch. “Take off your pants,” she urged him.

“Not yet.” His voice was firm and controlled. Slowly and with tenderness, he inserted his middle digit into her heated moisture. His finger wriggled and probed, sending shock waves through her system. “Do you like that?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whimpered. As if speaking for itself, her pussy muscles began to spasm, clenching around the bulged knuckle that skimmed against her delicate insides.

Harlow gasped. Getting finger-fucked was an agonizing pleasure. Heightening the sensation, Drake massaged her distended clit with the pad of his thumb. Blissfully, Harlow cried out, her hips rocking as Drake worked magic with his long, thick finger.

She didn’t want to cum…not like this. Ready for the real thing,
she clamped her thighs together, entrapping his hand, stilling the movement of his prodding finger.

“Drake, please.” Harlow’s voice was a soft plea.

He slowly extracted his finger. Bringing it to his nostrils, he drew in her scent. “Your pussy smells better than that expensive perfume.”

She smiled at the compliment.

But when his tongue began to swipe at his finger, licking away her juices, she felt her knees go weak. Harlow yanked on his belt, promptly unbuckling it. She shoved his pants down, and slid her hand inside the opening of his briefs, wrapping her hand around his jutting erection.

Both naked now, Harlow and Drake came together on the bed. Lying on her back, she opened her legs.

Drake mounted her. Caging her to the bed, he pressed his naked flesh against hers. The head of his dick kissed her pussy lips. Flames erupted all over her body. Nudging past the slippery folds, he eased the smooth crown inside her, and then withdrew it, causing Harlow to twist and moan and beg for dick.

“You want some more, baby?” Drake asked; holding his heavy dick, he stared at her face.

“You know I do.”

With his erection secured in his hand, Drake once again parted her slick opening with the tip that was lubricated with her juices and his own pre-cum. “How much do you want?”

“Stop torturing me, Drake.”

“Tell me how much dick do you want?” His voice was low and sexy.

She bit the soft flesh inside her bottom lip. “All of it, Drake. I want it all.”

Drake stared down at her. “Not yet. You gotta be patient.”

Ready to protest—prepared to stand up for her rights and take the dick that was rightfully hers, Harlow tried to rise up on her elbows.

“Lay back down,” he said softly.

All she could do was whimper and squirm as he steered the large crown of his dick back to the hot moisture between her legs. Her pussy made helpless little wet sounds as though crying for a hard thrust.

But Drake took his time, easing in an inch at a time and then pulling out, making her pussy pucker with need.

“Don’t tease me, Drake,” she said, sucking in bursts of air. “I’m begging you.”

“Begging for what?”

“I’m begging for all your inches. Please. If you give me what I want…” Before she could finish the sentence, Drake reentered her, groaning as he pushed into her clutching depths. Dick embedded to the hilt, he halted his movement. Harlow became still also, savoring the sensation of their hot bodies fused together.

Resorting to begging had paid off; she had his dick right where she wanted it. Pleased with herself, she smiled.

Drake kissed the smug smile off her lips, his tongue thrusting deeply, making Harlow’s sex clench.

“Fuck me, right, baby. You know how I like it.”

Winding his mid-section, Drake sexed Harlow in a slow, circular fashion.

She arched her hips and widened her thighs, urging him to go deeper and faster.

Obligingly, he plunged inside her. Her tight pussy sheathed his raging hard on.

With each thrust, blinding sensations blazed through Harlow’s body. “Nobody fucks me like you do!” She threw her legs around
his waist, giving it back the same way she was getting it, hard and fast. Sweating, clawing, and crying, she rotated her hips wildly, panting and grunting. Then she felt little jolts of electricity coursing through her—the feeling was a precursor to a powerful orgasm.

Harlow tensed. Unable to help herself, she bit down on Drake’s shoulder while her pussy walls tightened around the length of his dick.

BOOK: Put A Ring On It
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