Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry?” I snorted. “What kind of name is that? You have titles?”
“It is a mouthful,” the huge man acknowledged with a grin. “But it’s my name, and don’t try to take it for yourself,” he winked. “Anyways, make yourself at home, sweetheart. The castle is at your disposal, as is all of the staff. You’re my guest, Ashley, and a very precious one at that.”
My heart thumped with those words because what did he mean by the word “precious”? What was I doing here, anyways? We only met because I lost a sordid game of cards to this man, and he was intent on claiming his prize. But now, we’re literally a world away as he introduces me to his life and lifestyle, not to mention showing off his ancestral home. Don’t people only do that when they’re in a serious relationship? Goodness, I never would have guessed that any of this would happen.
But Patrick had already stalked off to attend to various business matters, leaving me to my own devices. Taking advantage of my freedom, I decided to explore, and the Castle Droghaire took months for me to map out. Yes, bad habits stay with a person forever, and just as I cased the Vegas casinos, I began to “case” Castle Droghaire as well. With each day, each corridor, each hallway, and each bedroom that I entered, my mind began to build a mental map of the space. I noted dimensions, wall hangings, light fixtures, angles, shadows, and anything that might be helpful. I don’t know why I’m like this. Some people have a way with words or numbers, but others have a knack for spatial reasoning, and my strength is the latter.
In the meantime, I enjoy myself to the utmost. Patrick is away at work during the days, so I have quite a few hours of leisure time to myself. I wander the castle, swim in the pool, or amuse myself with the massive library of books available to me. Sometimes, I take a dip in a nearby loch or even hike the fens by myself, reveling in the unique aspects of the Irish landscape. The Emerald Isle is gorgeous, with a rocky coast, wind-whipped terrain, and also a beauty that’s haunting yet delicately magical.
Then once Patrick returns, we eat a delicious dinner prepared by his chef. He says he wants me to maintain my ballet form, but I know what he’s really saying. The alpha male adores my curves and wants me well-fed and energetic for our romps in the sack. After all, I’m basically his favorite sex toy now, and the man uses my curves like a rampaging warrior. Most nights, after dinner, we repair to the master suite for riotous lovemaking, and he keeps me up all night, moaning and gasping as I take that hard cock over and over again. I can hardly move some mornings, but Patrick always chuckles and pets my pussy when that happens, referring to it as “his favorite kitty.”
All in all, it’s been a couple months of lavish living coupled with mind-blowing sensuality. I enjoy pleasing the billionaire, and it’s been easy to settle in. In fact, I’m still not sure how the change happened so fast, but it certainly hasn’t been difficult to adjust.
Then again, I didn’t have much in Vegas when I left. I was living as a journeyman, trying to put food on the table by partaking in high stakes poker. Sure, I’d had some success, but my understanding is that casinos talk to each other, and will notice if a player wins too much. I’m sure I’d already been profiled, and they were on the look-out for my presence at future tournaments.
So when Patrick offered me a chance to get away, I took it. I packed a suitcase of my stuff, told my roomie I was going on temporary hiatus, and left her with an envelope of cash to cover my rent. All of the money was from Patrick, of course, because he’s paid for everything since we’ve been together. My man is generous that way, and I boarded the billionaire’s private plane with a light step and a sweet smile.
But what does the Irishman want from me? A companion? A lady friend? A normal friend? A horny sex fiend who takes his dick on command? It seems like all of the above, to be honest. We have steamy, sensual sex, but we also talk as if we’ve known each other for years on end. He tells me about his family history, and even mentioned that he has a sister.
“So Ainsley’s in Vegas right now,” I said one night, as we lay in bed together. “She came with you to the City of Sin.”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “She’s spending my money like water too.”
“But why did you leave her there?” I ask curiously. “She’s only eighteen, right?”