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Wife for Sale (Boy Wife, #3)

Ratings:
127 pages1 hour

Summary

Chris should know better but he doesn't. He should know by now what it means to be truly owned by his lover, Blake, but naively hopes for the best, a real future in a beautiful home.

Waking up the morning after being thoroughly and totally dominated by his man's friends, Chris is ready to prove himself to be everything the man wants: beautiful, servile and above all, interesting. Blake doesn't want Chris anymore and is eager to hurry the process along of making his very own Cinderella.

His idea of a finishing school is lessons at gunpoint, paying your own way, and graduating under the knife...

This is a 26,000 word novella featuring infidelity, interracial, exhibitionism, feminization, ageplay, BDSM and blackmail.

EXCERPT:

"It's okay," said Chris, turning around as a prompt. The sink was still running. "I'm not gonna tell on you."

Shaun's head dipped to the side, studying the tight body before him. He'd been told that Blake's new girlfriend needed a little work but he couldn't figure how. The view from behind had his utmost attention.

"I see you got those pants on. You good at stretching?"

"I just started a couple weeks ago," teased Chris. It was true, he had been trying out yoga. It was one of those things people said might help with stress, depression and a dozen other hard to quantify ailments. He shrugged his shoulder up to his face to hide his reddening cheek as the man palmed him, feeling the tightness of his stomach against rough hands capable of serious force.

"Let's see."

His other hand was underneath the shiny fabric, groping the supple flesh of Chris' bubble butt as he lifted one leg, lithe as a dancer, and raised it onto the counter.

"That's about all I can do. Can you stretch?"

"Damn right," he said, making Chris sigh with barely contained excitement.

He reached back to touch the clean nape of Shaun's neck and feel the wave of his close cropped hair and Shaun's hand was under his chin, twisting his head back painfully. It was dominant and wanting, uncaring of what this slutty little housewife wanted, but of course, this is what he wanted.

Their lips brushed for the briefest moment and the electricity of the man's tongue reminded him as he gasped shot up a finger between them to purse their lips and keep them from touching again. He was familiar with it, the hypocrisy of trying to avoid the seeming impropriety by all means possible.

"No," whispered Chris. "It's just this. Only he gets to kiss."

Shaun reluctantly softened his grip on the boy's throat.

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