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Easy Virtue
by Mia Asher
Love is selfish...
My name is Blaire.
I’m the bad girl.
The other woman.
The one who never gets the guy in the end.
I’m the gold digger.
The bitch.
The one no one roots for.
The one you love to hate.
I hate myself too.
Everyone has a story. Are you ready for mine?
~RELEASE DATE~
December 3rd
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Posted below is the ENTIRE first chapter of Easy Virtue:
Part
I
Innocence
What is love?
I don’t know.
I’ve never had it.
Is it even real?
No, I don’t think so. I mean, how can I believe in love
when I’ve never witnessed it?
When it seems to only exist in books and films, or in the lives of more
fortunate people than me? Trust me, I know.
Love is my personal chimera.
I am gazing at brown
eyes, admiring the richness of the color, the beauty of the man to whom they
belong to.
“You’re so beautiful, Blaire … so wet,” he murmurs, his hand going between my legs as
he begins to rub me. His fingers spread me open to their soft invasion, tuning
my body to his wants and needs, preparing me to be taken as the hot friction of
his touch lights a wild fire within my body. It’s not the first time he has touched me like
this, but each time feels better and better—the sensations all-consuming and heady.
One finger.
Two fingers.
One finger.
Two fingers.
Over and over again.
His invasion is fast and
slow, deep and shallow. His touch is soiled heaven.
As I open my legs wider
for him, I wonder if it feels this good because of him or because I’m taking something that doesn’t belong to me and making it mine.
“Oh God … I love you, Blaire. I love you … I love you …” he pants in my ear.
“Don’t stop … it feels so good,” I breathe.
Okay, maybe it’s because at this moment in time this man
thinks he loves me and no one else but me, however false his proclamation may
be.
I close my eyes as his
lips land on mine. He kisses me softly as if I’m made out of gold, kissing me with that
familiar mouth I’ve seen smile tenderly
at me so many times before. The assault of his tongue debilitates me but doesn’t incapacitate me.
“It’s four dollars, gorgeous,” the cute barista says, smiling at me.
I’m about to pay for my cappuccino when I hear a
deep, manly voice say, “Let me get that for you.”
A man wearing a beige
suit comes forward, standing next to me as he hands the barista some bills. “I’ve seen you around … you’re Paige’s friend.”
I smile, licking my
suddenly dry lips. “Thank you, and yes … I know Paige.”
The smile on his
handsome face seems to freeze as his gaze follows the tip of my tongue, the
spark of hunger brightening his eyes. Inwardly, I smile because who knew it was
so easy to make men desire me, particularly when I went without attention for
so long.
“My pleasure. Are you,” he coughs, “here with someone else?”
I shake my head and look
at him through fluttering eyelashes. “No, I’m here all by myself.” I pause, touching his arm invitingly, and smile.
“Would you like to join
me?”
He looks around the
coffee shop, probably considering if he should, if it’s proper to do so, but less than five seconds
later, he’s staring at me once
again. “Sure.”
Yes, just like that.
The beige walls are
spinning.
The clock is ticking.
The bedsprings creak as
the moon cries outside the motel window.
And the man above me
kisses me while he fingers me, preparing me for him. Gotta love such a
thoughtful man.
I can taste his sweet
saliva mixing with mine, and I love it.
“Please,” I beg against his lips, reaching for his hard
cock and wrapping my fingers around it. “I’m ready.”
I feel his mouth leave
mine as he begins to make his way down my partially dressed body. “Are you sure, Blaire? Are you sure you want to
do this with me?”
I open my eyes to
witness what I think I want him to do. No, what I’m sure I want him to do. I can’t help the smile I feel playing on my lips as I
see him struggling with his conscience. He asks me if I’m sure when he has already fucked my mouth with
his cock countless number of times, when his fingers have filled every orifice
of my body. Should I laugh? No … I decide to take pity instead.
“I’m sure, so sure,” I say, letting my arms land like dead weight on
the bed, the cheap fabric rough against my skin.
“All right.”
When I feel the bed dip
between my legs, I instinctively open them for him and watch as he brings a
condom package to his mouth. As he rips it open with his teeth, I admire his
perfect full lips that emphasize how masculine he is.
I feel pleased with
myself.
So fucking pleased
because he wants me.
Mr. Callahan wants me.
Me. Can you believe it? Chubby Blaire. Ugly and awkward Blaire.
Unlovable Blaire.
I guess I’m not that ugly anymore. My body? What was
considered fat as a child is now called boobs and ass. Guys want it. They want
me. They want to touch me, grope me, feel me … they want to screw me. And it feels good to be
wanted … so good. It makes me
feel powerful, and like a potent drug spreading inside your bloodstream, I want
more.
I need more.
“Hurry up,” I say, not bothering to be shy or coy about it.
I mean, he brought me here to have sex, right?
“Fuck, give me a second,
Blaire. Trying to get the damn condom on my dick.”
As he rolls the rubber
on his stiff dick, his eyes wonder over my bare chest, my face, my spread legs.
Shaking his head as if trying to clear his mind, he mutters, “You’re so beautiful. I want you so much.”
That’s not the first
time I have heard those words come out of a man’s mouth. Josh tells me all the time how
beautiful I am, how perfect I am, how much he wants me, how much he loves me.
But he’s my friend with
benefits. The words kind of lose their meaning when it’s the same person saying them to you over and
over again.
“Show me.”
Those two words are all
it takes for him to spread my legs wider with his hands and finally enter me
with his throbbing dick. Pain shoots through my body, and a groan escapes my
mouth when he covers my body with his. I feel his whole length inside me in one
deep thrust.
“Christ, you’re so tight.”
He lifts both my legs,
wrapping them around his lean waist and starts to thrust. Hard. It hurts. But I
like the pain. It sobers me.
And that’s when reality comes crashing down on me. It
hits me with the speed and blinding power of a torpedo, making me realize what
I’m doing. What I’m giving away and the man doesn’t even know it.
What the hell am I
doing?
Proving that you are your mother’s daughter.
Making her proud.
The room is filled with
the noises of the man grunting his pleasure and the wet slapping of our skin;
it makes me want to gag. I want to throw up. Maybe it’s the alcohol I drank.
Maybe it’s self-disgust.
The initial pain is gone
and now I just feel sore. And strange.
His beautiful face
lowers, his lips about to connect with mine, and I feel the bile rise inside my
throat. I turn my face to the side, his kiss landing on my cheek. My eyes watch
the way the lights in the bathroom illuminate all its used and dirty ugliness.
“Oh God, I’m going to come … I’m going to come … I’m going to come,” he continues to pant in my ear, pumping in and
out of my body. Before I know what’s happening, he half-screams and half groans,
his body going tense on top of mine.
And just like that it’s over. In less than five minutes I’ve managed to kill a part of me.
Our breathing evens and
he pulls out, moving to stand up. I push myself up on my elbows to see him
inspect his condom. It still glistens. By the time he lifts his eyes,
connecting with mine, I’ve already wrapped my
body with the duvet cover.
Confusion, shock, and
pleasure reflect in those brown eyes. “I-I didn’t know … I …” His hands go to his hair as we stare at each
other. “I didn’t know you were a virgin.”
I shrug my shoulder
carelessly, causing the duvet to slide down, exposing my bare breasts to him. His
eyes immediately flare with lust. “It doesn’t matter … I wanted it to be you.”
And that’s the truth.
“But—”
“But nothing. If it
bothers you, then forget it happened. I already did,” I say, ending the conversation.
This is my body. I will
have the last word. Not him. Not anyone. This is my life. This is my decision.
Without giving myself a
chance to doubt my next words, I turn to look at him in all his naked beauty,
the gold wedding ring on his finger catching my attention. “Don’t worry, Mr. Callahan … I won’t tell your daughter that you fucked her
classmate.”
And with that, I seal my
destiny.
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