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God, he’s massive. It’s a tight fit, but thanks to his impeccable eating skills, my muscles are nice and relaxed. My body stretches to accommodate his thick length as I ease myself lower; my pussy feeling fuller than it’s ever been.

He blows out a long breath, his hands circling my waist in an almost painful grip. “Jesus, your pussy is tight,” he groans, but as torturous as it may be for him, the fire in his eyes as he watches me tells me he’s loving every second of it. And with that look alone, I already know this man has the power to ruin me.

When he’s fully sheathed inside me, I feel so full it’s almost painful, but then he rocks his hips, his cock rubbing in places that have never been touched. Instantly, all my jumbled thoughts fall away, and I lose myself to the pleasure as our bodies move together, finding our very own rhythm.

The erotic sounds of slapping skin mixed with our synchronized breaths fill the room, as I ride his cock with reckless abandon. His warm tongue glides across my exposed cleavage and up my neck, like he’s desperate to taste every inch of my skin.

He slides one strap down my shoulder, his mouth licking and tasting my newly exposed skin, then slowly pulls down the other. His brown eyes grow impossibly darker as my breasts spring free. And the look on his face is nothing short of adoration.

“Fuck me, your tits are perfect,” he groans as he pinches my nipple, eliciting a jolt of pleasure. My back arches against him, and I let out a gasp of surprise. “I knew you’d be perfect, but goddamn, your body fits mine like a fucking glove.”

His praising words bring me closer to the edge, and I grind my hips harder, my orgasm already starting to crest.

“And these fucking lips. This smart mouth has been driving me crazy all night.” He grips my face in his hand possessively, as he drags his lips over mine in a tender kiss, biting my lip hard before he breaks away. When I lick the sting away, the metallic taste of blood coats my tongue.

Jesus, this man is so different than I was expecting… Controlled and confident, like he knows exactly what he wants.

His hips move faster, pumping into me with a force that has my breasts bouncing with every stroke. And even though I’m still technically on top, there’s no denying who’s doing the fucking.

“So fucking perfect,” he groans out, his voice pained. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold off.”

There it is again, that desperation and loss of control…knowing that I’m the reason he’s falling apart is all it takes. I feel the last threads of my resolve come undone. “Oh God, yes! I’m coming,” I cry out, as I tighten my hold on his shoulders and we both free-fall into pure, intoxicating bliss.

Never in my twenty-five years have I ever felt anything quite like this. I’m still trying to process it, still trying to understand how this stranger could so easily pick up on what I liked and how to touch me when I spent years with someone who couldn’t even be bothered to locate my clit…

If I weren’t so blissfully exhausted right now, I might actually be annoyed by how easily he managed to turn my world upside down, proving just how little I settled for before.

We lie there, tangled together, our breathing slowly evening out, and for a moment I almost forget what this is.

But then he sits up. He removes the condom, tying it off before tossing it in the trash, and pulls on his pants. That same easy smile still lingers on his face as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a thick wad of cash. “Three thousand is all the cash I have on me right now⁠—”

The sting of rejection hits me like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from my lungs. For one awful second, it feels real.

Then I remember that this was always the plan, and I’m suddenly flooded with a giddy sense of victory. He totally bought it.

“Nice doing business with you,” I say, as I snatch the wad of money from his hand and tuck it inside my top.

I don’t wait around to exchange pleasantries, just slip on my skirt, grab my boots, and make my escape before he has a chance to say another word. Thankfully, I don’t have far to go.

The giggle I was trying to suppress breaks out as soon as I’m inside my room, and I dissolve into teary-eyed laughter.

Maybe I should feel used having just accepted payment for my body. But after a lifetime of being sexualized—of feeling like I was nothing more than something for other people to consume—the only thing I’m feeling right now is empowered.

CHAPTER FOUR

Roman

My hip flexors are throbbing, and my lungs are on fire as I double over, trying to catch my breath.

Of course, Guy, my youngest brother and resident college soccer star, would submit a goddamn footrace for our first annual C.U.C.K.: Chosen Unluckiest Chairman of Kingsleys. It’s a working title, considering we only came up with the idea for the event this morning.

As stupid as it may be, after last year’s rock-paper-scissors contest, I realized a competition is going to be the only fair way to decide which one of us is going to plan our town’s annual Phantom Festival this fall.

The tradition of the Phantom Festival dates back to the founding of our town.

As the story goes, Ashford Falls was once plagued by illness, its rivers poisoned by the mining industry. Then the Phantom appeared to my great-grandmother as a harbinger. He promised blessings, prosperity, and good fortune in exchange for one simple vow: take care of the land.

From that day forward, the town made good on that promise. Generation after generation, protecting the land became more than a responsibility—it became part of who we are. It’s what eventually inspired my father to build our family’s eco-friendly company.