Prologue - Wayan
“Hear me out.” Myyounger brother, Wilder, is known for his wild ideas, and today is no different. “What if I hire you one of those fancy escorts from the city? You don’t want to die a virgin, do you?”
Hire me an escort, is he crazy? Not that I want to die a virgin, it’s the thought of having sex with someone I don’t know who’s only doing it for money that doesn’t sit well with me.
“I think you hit a nerve—that vein on his forehead is pulsing faster than I’ve ever seen it.” My older brother, Warren, adds his two cents.
I regret sharing that information with my brothers, even though they admitted to being virgins themselves—three brothers in their mid-thirties, still virgins—who would've thought.
We’re a sorry bunch, living in the mountains and running our family logging business. We have little contact with the opposite sex, but I still wonder if hiring someone is the answer to the loneliness that tears at my soul year after year.
“Just think of everything she could teach you, so when you do find someone, you would actually know what you’re doing.” Wilder throws some poker chips into the growing pile in the middle of the table, calling my obvious bluff.
“That isn’t a bad idea.” My normally sane older brother, Warren, rubs his hand over his bushy beard. “I might have to look into something like that.”
“You’re joking. The way you look at that curvy librarian, there’s no way you'd lay a hand or anything else on another woman," Wilder scoffs.
“Me? What about you and that mail-order bride lady?” Warren shoots back, lowering his cards onto the table. “You’ve been sniffing around her since the day she arrived in town.”
Once my older and younger brothers start bickering, the argument can last for hours. It’s best if I put an end to it now,rather than after they’ve thrown a few punches. Plus, I want to get through the night and forget Wilder ever brought up that crazy idea, because now all I can think about is how far a hired woman would go to please me.
“Would you two just shut up and play poker.”
one
Wayan
The soft knock onmy cabin door raises my suspicion. No one but my brothers ever visit me, and when they do, they definitely don’t knock.
It’s my thirty-fifth birthday, and unless my brothers have completely forgotten, I need to stay alert for one of their tricks.It’s a tradition for us to team up against the birthday boy and try to outdo each other every year.
“I’m coming,” I growl, not caring that I just got out of the shower and only have a towel wrapped around my waist. I yank open the front door, expecting a singing birthday gram from someone dressed in a gorilla costume or something like that. Instead, I’m greeted by a pair of the deepest brown eyes I’ve ever seen, framed by long chocolate eyelashes that match the sleek, low ponytail hanging down her back.
“Hi.” Her smile catches me off guard—her beauty takes my breath away. “I’m Fern. Your brother, Wilder, hired me. I’m contracted with the agency.” A conversation from a few weeks ago echoes in my mind, where my brother offered to hire an escort for me.
I’m pissed at my brother for sending me this beautiful fallen angel. But I’m even more pissed at the instant attraction I feel for her. The thought of her selling her body for money makes something in me snap.
“Take your coat off, go over to the rug, and get on your knees,” I growl, causing her eyes to widen. Realizing I might have been too gruff, I soften my tone. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
She shakes her head, which I interpret as a sign of refusal, and that's okay. I don’t plan to make her do anything she doesn’t want to. However, she surprises me by slipping off her coat, placing it on the back of the couch, and then crossing thewooden floor to the soft rug by the fireplace, where she kneels—waiting for me like a good girl.
Contemplating my next move, I take in her appearance. Her glossy brown hair tied back in a low ponytail is both practical and convenient for what I have planned. The dark gray, fuzzy dress that ties on the side hugs every one of her lush curves, making her look like a birthday present, just waiting to be unwrapped. And those knee-high black leather boots are the perfect finishing touch.
Her gaze never wavers—she stays on her knees, with her back straight and shoulders back, staring at the wall, waiting for my next command like the perfect sub. Obviously, I’ve never acted on my dominant tendencies—it’s just something I feel deep in my soul.
I’ve often thought it would be hard to find a woman who desires the darkness of being owned, just as I feel about owning her. Judging by how Fern, if that’s even her real name, responds, she’s my perfect match.
Striding toward her, I drop my towel from my waist, letting it fall to my feet—her gasp of surprise boosts my confidence. I know I have a big cock, but seeing her reaction to it ignites my primal side. “Do you like what you see, Fern?” I circle my hand around my shaft, bringing the tip to her lips and running my pre-cum over them. “Open up.” I tap my shaft against her lips. Her eager mouth opens instantly as her tongue swirls around the head, experimentally at first, then with a little more confidence when she finally takes me into her mouth. “That’s it, take my cock deep into your pretty little mouth.” My grunts sound obscene to my ears, but the feel of her velvety mouth taking me deep into herthroat is going to have me coming faster than I want. “Damn, Fern, your mouth is perfect. It feels like it was made for my cock.” I wrap her ponytail around my hand and wrist, controlling her head and the depth of my thrusts.
She moans around my cock, her beautiful brown eyes never straying from my face. I drop my hand from my shaft only to have it replaced by her soft hands gliding over my skin, “Tighter.” I moan, placing my hand over her hands and showing her how I want her to touch me. It doesn’t take her long to mimic the action on her own. I drop my hand to my side, while my other hand continues to control her head, helping her take more and more of me. She does her best to take me as deep as she can, but my cock is so big there’s no way she can fit all of it. But damn, it still feels good. “You’re doing so good.” I pick up the speed and the depth of my thrusts, knowing I’m not going to be able to hold on much longer. “Shit, Fern. I’m going to come. You might want to stop if you don’t want it in your mouth.” Positive, she’s going to pull back, leaving me to come into my towel. I prepare myself for the loss of contact, but she surprises me by moving her hands from my shaft and placing them on my ass, pulling me closer like she doesn’t want to let me go. “Damn, Fern.” Unable to stop, I fill her mouth with my release. She does a great job of swallowing everything I give her. But a small part of me wants to see it on her tongue. “Show me what you have in your mouth.” Like a good girl, she brings her hands to my shaft and opens her mouth, my cock popping out of her mouth with an audible sound. Another burst of come spurts out, landing on her lips when I see my come on her tongue, “Swallow.” I command, and she obeys.
“That was amazing.” I rub my thumb over her swollen, cum covered lips, gathering the excess of it and feeding her the restof it. “How long did my brother hire you for? A few hours? Overnight? I’d like you to spend a couple of days with me, because I’m not sure making love to you once or twice will be enough.” Her eyes dilate at my words, lust clouding her vision. I take her hand and help her stand, because if she stays on her knees in front of me like that for any longer, I’m bound to shove my cock back down her throat for another round. “I’m not sure how much my brother told you, but the reason he hired your services is because I’m a virgin.” I drop my hand from hers, bend over, and pick up my towel, tying it at my waist.
Before she can respond, my front door opens, and my brother Wilder walks in with a pretty blonde woman beside him. “Good, I see you’ve met Fern from the mail-order bride agency.” his eyes drop to the towel I’m holding around my waist. “What are you doing, only wearing a towel?”
“Mail order Bride agency?” I say, as the fog of lust finally clears from my mind. “You’re not an escort?” The last part, I say only loud enough for Fern to hear.
“Yeah, Fern owns the bridal shop in town with her sisters, Curvy by Design. She’s been helping Aspen onboard new clients. Fern is your assigned agent. Happy Birthday! I signed you up for the six-month mail-order bride package.” He walks over to me and slaps me on the back with a smile.
