The Good Mistress: A BWWM Billionaire Romance

Th
e
Goo
d
Mistress

A BWWM Billionaire Romance

AMARIE AVANT

Also By Amarie Avant

FEAR: Falling In love with an Alpha Billionaire 1-3

~~~ STOP ~~~

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Amarie is holding a contest that is EASY to enter, but it’s only available for a limited time. Because the contest is only open to readers who’ve bought or borrowed this copy of The Good Mistress, the details on how to add your name to the drawing are found at the very end of this kindle eBook.

So, before you do anything else, scroll to the end of this kindle book to enter before you forget or the contest ends!

~~~

Copyright © 2016 by Amarie Avant. All rights reserved

Publisher: Blu Savant Press

Cover Design: Anna Crosswell / Cover Couture, 
www.bookcovercouture.com

Photo Copyright: 
BeautyBlowFlow
 / Shutterstock

Photo Copyright: 
pisaphotography
 / Shutterstock

Photo Copyright: 
Kiselev Andrey Valerevich
 / Shutterstock

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means–electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other–except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses, organizations, and locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Thank you Jesus

~

This book is dedicated to my husband.

Brandon, you are the best love story of my life.

~

Janice Ross and Dormaine G, you two are loved (and on occasion) harassed by yours truly!

~

Patrice, my fingers are crossed! Our discussions about Mila’s depth way, way back during the beginning round of editing gave me life (but damn near killed me first LOL)

Prologue

Mila Ali

I made a mistake…
Mila exhaled. Notes of black maple bourbon coated her tongue with the raw taste of
him
as she backed against the marble ledge of an accent table. The room’s embellishments were elaborate. Millions of dollars’ worth of modern paintings graced the wall, but Mila was the centerpiece. Before his lips had touched the velvety dew of her rich, dark hazelnut complexion, Mila had been of sound mind. Mila knew how seductive she looked the instant she'd slipped on the lingerie he sent to her. The French couture olive green lace teddy graced her bodacious ass and hips, solidifying her place in his world. So she'd walked into his lair with confidence. Ready to go...making demands. Complete the deed. Just then, fire lit that bulbous ass of hers. “I made a mistake…”

Billionaire Blake Baldwin declared, “No. No, mistake made. You came into this motherfucker like you own it! Now own it. You voiced your stipulations, and I quote,
‘No tying me up or
down
. No spankings. No gags. No debasing. Period’. Mila, a moment ago,
you
called the shots. Tell me, where the fuck is
that
Mila Ali? I want to fuck
that
Mila. The
bold
,
bossy
one.”

“How unfortunate for you.” Mila smiled, in the short time Mila had known Blake Baldwin, she’d taken on this snide stance that the usually good-natured Mila rarely had. He conjured her strongest emotions, even before they’d actually touched. However, having agreed to this position, she genuinely added, “I just changed my mind about this sexual tryst. My apologies.”

Mila was shocked he didn’t retort. She fought against that hypnotic emerald gaze, allowing her own to survey the taut planes of an eight pack stacked above a glorious V-shape. A raised scar traveled along those abs—courtesy of one of his daring mountain climbs in a far-off exotic place. Dressed in a pair of silk navy blue pajama pants, Blake stood. He was well over six feet.

Mila took a deep breath as he stepped over to her. Why had she stopped kissing him? The answer lay in the way that his full lips collided with hers, as if he could read her mind. But what she really
needed
was a quick fuck.

For an entire month, Mila formulated a game plan for this encounter. The golden god should have been a short-term fix. He became her first taste in months. Blake wasn't the real threat to her sanity, time was. 

Six months’ shy of thirty
,
Mila already knew one thing: she could never love again. It wasn’t as if Internet communications mogul Blake Baldwin sought anything more than a fuck. This would be a win-win for him.

“Damn, Mila. You stepped into my house like you own it.
Own
it
.”

“Ye...yes...” Halfheartedly listening, Mila searched the room for her coat and stilettos. She needed to be as calculating as Blake. Mila eyed her camel hair coat across the room.

“I
am
leaving
.”
Mila smiled curtly. They were both highly educated people; however, she knew the sneaky bastard was stalling. Mila snatched up her coat that fell just past mid-thigh. A lump formed in her throat. “Look. I want to get over Warren, but...”

“But you'd rather leave?”

Nope. I’m not taking the bait.
She’d only known Blake a few months. Mila refused to mention more about Warren. It’s never in good taste to talk about your fiancé to another man. Not ever.

As she shoved one arm into the coat, Mila thought
, I’m beside myself with heartbreak. I’m hardly thinking straight.

As soon as she began latching the buttons, Blake towered over her. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the muscular organ that Mila believed to be her frozen heart, skipped a beat.

Blake took the peach silk scarf dangling from the back of a settee. “When will we try this again?”

Mila shrugged. “Maybe I’ll fuck you next week. How about that?”

He looped the fine silk within his fingers. No longer the center of attention, but damn, Mila wanted to be. All the while he stroked the scarf, her pussy quivered. A deep, almost animalistic groan escaped his lips. “Next week, you say? I'm patient.”

She tried not to scoff.
Damn, I’ve run from this man. Cussed him. And now I want to run again…
Blake slowly twined the scarf fashionably about her neck. Next, Blake reached down, his lips barely brushing her own. The gesture was warm, a friendly token, yet it was just enough to weaken her knees.

“Your wife...”

“We’ve already confirmed I’m in an open marriage.”

“Yes, we have…” Mila turned away.
I’m almost to the home front.
Mila ambled toward the front doors, faltering as the scarf slowly unraveled and fell from Blake’s fingertips. He moved behind her in one fluid motion and pressed against the soft side of Mila’s round ass.

Blake’s warm breath tickled all the way down her spine and struck a wild frenzy at her nether regions. “Mila, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” He nibbled her collar bone, his cock spearing her buttocks. “Do you know what you deserve? Diamonds to compliment the sparkle in those beautiful almond eyes. I could offer you so many things to showcase your beauty, Mila, but only on the condition that you become exactly who you were designed to become.”

Mila. Ate. Every. Fucking. Word.

And then Blake stopped.

“What was I designed to become?” Her neck welcomed those nibbles that he bestowed with fervor. Her ass grinded against the rock hard beast.

“Blake, what do you want me to be?”

He shifted away, pushing down his pants. He slid on a condom like a pro, yet she still almost died waiting. Blake's hand slipped beneath her jacket, down to her hip and continued to the lace teddy. A ripple of desire escaped Mila's lips as Blake pushed the lace material to the side. His fingers glided over silky ebony coils. His heartbeat steadied against her back. That damn intoxicating cologne infused her nostrils with each breath she took. Blake allowed a finger to toy with her sweetness. “Blake, what is...”

He growled while his foot swiped the inside of both her feet, lengthening her stance. The act was sheer good cop, bad girl erotic. He smacked her ass so hard that her breath hitched, and still, she was lost; stuck on stupid as two fingers now delved inside her swollen petals. Mila's hips arched, needing more than this bit of satisfaction. “Blake... Tell meeee... Wh... What—”

“Mine. Mila. You and your beauty,
all of you,
were designed to belong to me.”

“Yesss...”

“Good fucking god!” Blake shouted as her long orgasm drenched down his fingers. He tore the camel jacket from her arms, pushed her body forward. Mila found leverage with the marble countertop as his cock eased teasingly into her wet core. A vase of orchids crashed to the floor. Each and every inch he had to offer filled her up and then some. Her hands braced against the table. With each thrust, Blake molded her walls to his cock. 

It was a hard fuck: pure aggression and naughty spankings with no room for thought. Now that was exactly what she came for. Mila imagined her ass cheek had been branded by his handprint.

“Harder!”

Blake hit her g-spot a hundred times over. The table banged against the Venetian wallpaper over and over again. Sweat glistened across her burning skin. Mila thrusts her curvy ass back to meet Blake’s dick.

Blake reached over as his fingers grasped her thick mahogany strands, pulling them back and making her ass arch even more.

Fireworks exploded as they came together long and hard. Something told Mila that there’d be no after-sex hugging— all good, because she didn’t want love. His jagged breath felt like home to her bare back.

Mila, breasts rising and falling, did a one-two step, regaining her balance. Blake smiled at her. His voice, breathy as he caressed the dampness of her neck, advised, “Now that we've finished the business portion of this meeting-" He paused, large, barbarian-like hands grabbing her cheeks as his mouth bruised her own with a hard kiss. "At your wish Mila, I’ve consented to your request of no tying, no gags. No debasing... It’s my turn. Go upstairs to the first set of double doors. Get in my bed. Lie back. Legs wide.”

Mila fell speechless. They'd just fucked. And that was only the start, he reassured her with a kiss, but the look in Blake’s eyes implied that the quick fuck ended. He planned on devouring her body, slowly and meticulously.

Now for him being the easy way out? Hmmm, if Mila had been grounded at this moment, she'd know that using Blake to help bring her back to life after losing her fiancé could never be an option. He’d pierce through the numbness, but there’d be a bigger price to pay.