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A Billionaire's Minx

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Blurb When I was fifteen year's old I fell in love, he was a walking wet dream and for a teenage girl that was only learning to control her hormones, he was death. I grew up in a religious household, my grandfather was a catholic pastor and so we were raised on biblical perspective's but somehow I always galloped more to the worldly things. I was taught no cussing, no deception and certainly no f*ck*ng a hot boy you just met a two weeks ago, but I loved him. I wanted to love him in all the ways I could, and I think he too loved me because he always promised forever. Somehow forever lasted short, I winded up in the wrong hands, terrible hands. I saw some bad things and did worse, my perception of life was ruined long ago now I have nothing, nothing but scars and demons. I had long forgotten about him, but years later, he crashes into my life, and he's married. His wife, making me an unwelcome proposal and him, making me feel like the indistinguishable stupid girl I was seven years ago. However I'm no longer her, and he isn't the same eighteen year old I lied to, he breathes power and seduction that can be seen from miles away. All I want is to get my life in order but with my past feeling's and demon's resurfacing, I know one thing for sure, I am absolutely screwed. We both are. Caelum thinks he is the only fiend in my story, yet there's a far bigger demon lurking in the dark, and no matter how many times he goes hunting, he won't find it, the demon hides in the most open places and the longer Caelum searches for it, the more broken he will be when he encounters it. This is a story about two star crossed crossed lovers who get separated by a series of unfortunate events but life gives them a second chance, with him married and her running from her demons, can they make it work?

Chapter 1


Chapter One

I slip past the numerous club members and new clients making my way to the backdoor. It's unguarded, the security team is obviously busy helping maintain order at the other entrances.

I let out an outstretched hand and heard a lot of people say, this is where dreams go to die. My hand reaches into my bag for my card, swiping it through the card reader to unlock the doors.

The people that work here say this is where dreams come to die while the people that come here say it's where dreams come alive.

Both are right.

Fantasy Elite is the house of sin.

If the devil had favourite places, Fantasy Elite would make top of the list. The most despicable beings of all creatures in the world come here to get treated like royalty. This is where sadistic, masochist, all sorts of perverted men and women come to fulfil their desires and get treated like royalty for exhibiting their diabolical ways.

Fantasy Elite is not just a strip club, it's a s*x club. One requires a membership card to be here, our clients consist of seventy-five percent men and thirty-five percent women.

We offer a number of services, surrogacy and sperm donations included but the most popular ones are the strippers, alcohol and s*x. Most people simply come to watch and at first, I used to wonder what kind of sick minded person would want to watch other people f*ck, it disgusted me down to the bone but after watching it for so long, I got over it.

Many people enjoy engaging in orgies while others prefer to watch and they get so aroused that they touch themselves as they watch. I've done it too, I've gotten off watching other people f*ck like animals without purpose and I'm not ashamed of it, not when there's so much else to be ashamed of.

It's seldom that I engage in orgies or threesomes because it would ruin my value if people saw me like that so often.

Think of me as Fantasy Elite's rare commodity, one you keep hidden behind closed doors and charge a fortune to showcase to the world and when you do, you put it in a glass case to protect it from damage.

However, the damage was done years ago. I didn't become the best asset Fantasy Elite has by luck, no. Luck is something I haven't had in a long time, I worked hard for it, I endured a lot of pain for this moment and I walked through blazing fire to be where I am today.

Most women envy the position I'm in, they loathe seeing me at the top yet they have no clue what it took to get here and the worst part is I never wanted this, it just happened. You'd assume I have it easy after enduring hell but no, nothing comes easy for me.

They tell you good things happen to good people, well I was a good girl once. I ate my vegetables, did my homework, got straight A's and went to church. The same church where my grandfather preached about a God that doesn't love me, he said God loves everyone but I always had reason to believe he had his favourites and I wasn't among them then, I'm not among them now.

The only disparity between then and now is I have accepted I'll never make the cut, I have broken all ten commandments and I don't care much for his mercies, he has never shown me any. If I could count the times he did right by me, I would count on my fingers. One of them being the time I became one of Fantasy Elite's special workers. I enjoy the spot I'm in, I work three days a week, dropping breadcrumbs when I do so the client's come back for more.

I also do special appearances and work as an escort for wealthy men that can't bag a hot date. I accompany them to events and for the right price, I end up denuded of them. Those are the nights I get wasted on liquor like my life depends on it, and nights like this too. I had to drink a lot to prepare myself for my performance tonight, I wouldn't have done this sober, I needed a push.

Yesterday, I spent all day with Emelia and it was nice. Despite being best friends, we barely hung out outside of work. On off days, I spend time working in my apartment if I'm not accompanying clients to events of their choice.

Walking into my dressing room, I shut the door behind me. I'm supposed to be on stage in exactly ten minutes, which is enough time for me to get backstage. I dressed at home and wore a coat over my outfit, because I knew I'd be late. Layla was extra chatty tonight and I couldn't leave before she went to bed.

The thought of Layla and Olivia sleeping in my apartment makes me smile.

I take off my coat and drape it over my chair. I grab my lipstick off the dresser and secure it in my hair, in such a way that no matter how much I dance, it won't fall, not even when I'm hanging upside down on the pole. I walk over to the larger mirror, tilting my head while I examine my outfit.

Tonight I'm wearing a full rhinestone set, with a pink push up bra, decorated with silver sparkle chains that join at the straps, going in opposite directions to make an X on my chest and two sparkly lines on each of my boobs. The panty matches the bra, rhinestones gracing the front and glimmering chains around my *ss, meeting at the waistband of the panty. I like it, I look good, more so because it’s my custom brand of lingerie thanks to Emelia, who convinced our stylist to purchase my products for tonight's event.

I had to make seventy-three orders, twenty of which had to be made by hand.

Emelia and her colleagues dance extraordinaire duo, Crane and Sasha as well as Milly couldn't agree on a routine so we split into six groups for tonight's performance instead of three. I'm performing the opening act.

Someone knocks on my door and it opens before I can respond, I turn to see who it is with a smile on my face.

I groan when I finally see who it is, Ricky, one of the backstage bouncers. I nod at him and he grins, his eyes trailing over my body with admiration. “Hmm, you look too good to be true.”

I put a hand over my waist and shrug. “I am Rumor aren't I?”

Ricky chuckles, “That you are princess, but the audience expects to see Rumor on stage in two minutes.”

I nod following him as he exits.

My stage name came unexpectedly, I used to be a wallflower but then people started calling me Rumor because I was too good to be true. My lips pull into a smile when I meet the other dancers backstage.

A voice comes through, busting through the speakers, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Fantasy Elite where every fantasy is fulfilled, no matter how dirty your secret fantasy is, know you're in the right place. Here at Fantasy Elite, we aim to please you and pleasure you. Our first group for tonight has all your favorites, and our very own sadistic s*xy goddess.” he says.

"Rumor." chants fill the bar area and I lick my lips, my gaze veering over to the girls giving me the envious looks like they usually do, I wave them off. We're on the same boat but they don't seem to think so because it looks like I have special privilege.

My signature song starts playing, making the crowd go wild, and that's my cue. I ruffle my hair, the chains in my braids bumping when I do. Seems I'm covered in chains tonight, from my hairstyle to my lingerie. My heels are the only exception, but they do have rhinestones.

My feet begin to move, strutting to the stage, with six girls, three on my left and three on my right. The audience cheers at our appearance, it's packed tonight and I'm drunk, too drunk to be on stage. I've had more drinks than I can count on my fingers, it doesn't take a genius to see this isn't a good idea but it is.

I begin to sway my hips to the beat, the cheers getting louder by the second. I can already smell the pre-c*m of every straight male in here tonight. There are seven of us on stage but all eyes are on me, I can feel their lustful eyes burning through my flesh, each wishing they be who I choose to play with tonight. I know this because this is exactly what I was made to be, a show stopper.

Life put me in the hands of evil and it was there, I was crafted to be what I am now, a temptress. I manipulate men for a living and they pay me to do it, they pay thousands of dollars, sometimes millions to touch me.

Men take a look at me and they're enchanted instantly, emptying their wallets and worshipping me like a Greek mythology goddess. Evil, disgusting men come here, most of them in their late twenties and others in their fifties, instead of being in a nursing residence or better yet, hanging out with their grandchildren.

On a Friday night, you will find a sixty year old man here, watching Rumor dance seductively as he shamelessly jerks off to the sight.

Some of them even engage in orgies and private s*x acts, while others prefer to watch. I prefer to watch but the client's prefer to f*ck me, if not, they want to watch me engage in the s*x act but my act has less s*x and more torture, people pay a lot to watch my act, and why not? It's a work of art if you ask me, I enjoy it more than the pole dancing, interpretative dance, and seductive lap dances I do on stage. My s*x acts leave people speechless every time and me? They leave me content.

Scanning the room for my next victim, I grip onto the pole and hook my arms around it, losing myself in the music as I dance, men and women eye f*ck*ng me everywhere I look. A smile spreads across my lips as I spread my legs, my arms enclosed around the pole as I show these men just how flexible I am. Getting their hopes high with every move I make, staring at the crowd innocently as I scout for my next playmate. The song is almost coming to an end, I have a s*xy dance with the next song, I can pick my victim then.

I twirl on the pole before sliding off completely, my heels almost breaking. I make my way to Cinnamon and circle her like a hunter does his prey, but of course- we rehearsed this.

My signature song is replaced with another, I offer my hand to Cinnamon and she grins, cheers and echoes fills the room.

When I have her hand in mine, I pull her close to me, placing my leg in between her thighs and I lick her face while she pretends to be shocked.

I look back at the cheering horny men and women watching me with awe as I turn back to Cinnamon and she winks, I brush my lips over hers and she shivers. I part her lips with my tongue and kiss her slowly, picking up pace when the crowd goes wild. Cinnamon feels like pudding in my arms, she's relaxed and kissing me harder than I kiss her, our tongues evoking a war inside our mouths.

It's like she was waiting for this to happen, she's enjoying just as much as me, a moan escapes me and Cinnamon swallows it, making the crowd cheer even louder.

Chapter 2 (Aurora's POV continues)

Cinnamon's hips are grinding on my leg, her panties are more than soaked. I trail my fingers on her back as we break our kiss, I cast my eyes down and she does too. We both stick a finger in each other's panties and run them down our slits, getting our arousal to give to some men in the crowd. Cinnamon is wet, I love that I make both gay and straight men hard as well as gay and straight women wet.

I should just slide my fingers through her slit and take my hand out but being the minx I am, I caress her aching clit by collecting her arousal on my fingers making her release a loud moan. I take my fingers out and she scowls at me.

What? I did it for the client's.

Cinnamon slides her fingers over my slit once more before taking them out, my arousal coating them. This is why I got drunk, I always get wet when I'm drunk and looking at how glistened Cinnamon's fingers are, I'm fairly wet, not more than she is but just enough.

I bring my fingers to my mouth but


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