Taking what they want… these Billionaires don’t play by anyone’s rules—consequences be damned.
Get ready to be owned, dominated, and consumed by these DARK and DIRTY alpha-holes…
In a world where money is no object, Dirty Billionaires will test your boundaries by blurring the lines between right and wrong. Living in shades of gray, they exude the right combination of sex and sin to drive you out of your mind with desire.
If you can’t handle being spanked or a kinky side that pushes your limits, this anthology may be more than you’re ready for. These Billionaires might be rough around the edges, but when they find someone they want—they’ll show them exactly what being loved by them means.
Owning them body and soul… forever.
Grab this Dark Romance Anthology including Stories By:
USA Today Bestselling Author Dori Pulitano
USA Today Bestselling Author Sahara Roberts
USA Today Bestselling Author Lux Miller writing as Paedon Sims
USA Today Bestselling Author Amy Stephens
Bestselling Author Simone Leigh
Author Ivy Nelson
Author Isabel Jolie
Author Shanjida Nusrath Ali
Author Eve Pendle writing as Evie Rose
Author Finley Brown
Author Sass Green
Author Fiona Allen
Deal with the Devil by Dori Pulitano
“Miss Stone. We’re not calling the police… yet. But I need you to tell me why
you’ve been selling photos of people’s private business to the tabloids. It’s going to
create a fucked-up situation for my club and now for Mr. Winston.”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Dalton.” I glance over my shoulder at him. “Go to Mr. Winston and his manager.
Tell them I’ll be there shortly. Then we can decide what to do with Miss Stone.”
“Dom?” His tone is filled with worry. “Shouldn’t we call alert the authorities?”
“No. Do what I asked.”
“Are you sure about that, sir?” Danny questions my reaction. “There’s no telling
what she’s done.”
“Danny, return to the floor and do your job. I’ll take care of this matter. Please keep
this between the three of us for now.”
“Yes, sir.”
The sound of the door clicking tells me they’ve left me alone with Miss Stone.
“Now. What do you suppose I should do with you, Miss Stone? You’ve ignored every
policy I have in place here at the club to violate a client's privacy and are likely
responsible for the recent spotlight aimed at Mr. Winston’s reputation.”
My cock throbs at the way she bows her head and stares at her feet. “I’ll do
anything. Please.” Her voice is barely a whisper.
The mere notion this girl is submissive has my dick threatening to split open the
zipper on my pants. “How old are you, Miss Stone?”
She twists her fingers in her lap. “Twenty-three.”
The lie rolls off her tongue, making me wonder if she’s even legal. “Twenty-three,
huh? Are you married? Have a boyfriend?”
“Nn—nno.” She stutters her answer, her eyes lifting slightly to look at me. “Why?”
“What about family? I assume you live in the area?”
Her back stiffens as she looks me in the eye. “It’s just me and I live close to here.”
I snort, knowing damn well the apartments close by are shit holes. It’s the only
negative about the club location. But trying to get an upscale community to let me put
in a club with the specialty Vibe caters to wasn’t going to happen. Doesn’t matter—the
clients here would not care less if I put Vibe on a desert island. They’d still show up and
pay the hefty membership fee.
“What are you going to do with me?”
Mistaking Stone by Amy Stephens
“Oh, my, what have we here,” I whisper into her hair and run one of my fingers along
her fold. She’s so slick, it’s easy to add a second one. Up and down, she begins to
squirm and moan.
Hmm, I wonder if I can make her scream?
Placing her hand on top of mine, she guides my fingers to her sweet spot. I rub the
delicate tissue, gently and effortlessly, all the while imagining what it would feel like
against my tongue. Dear brother, you didn’t realize a good thing when you had it.
The back of the seat begins to lower, opening up the area for me to visit.
“Does this seat have a massager?” she giggles.
“Does the car have four wheels?”
“You’re such a tease, Stone Arlington.”
We’ll see who’s a tease when I get done with you, my princess.
With my right hand on her tit, roughly kneading it, and my left hand shoved between
her legs, I thrust one finger inside her soaking wet pussy. It goes in easily and I quickly
add a second finger.
I nod my head when I hear the seat massager come to life. Her hips begin to raise
then lower as the massager goes from the middle of the seat to the bottom.
“You must be left-handed,” she says barely above a whisper.
“Baby, there’s talent in both of these hands, but yes, I’m a lefty. Don’t worry, though.
You haven’t felt anything yet.” And with that, I drive a third finger inside, spreading her
even wider.
Solitaire Mansion: The Fantasy by Ivy Nelson
Kit Dufort stepped off his private jet and walked to the waiting SUV that would take him
to the Jaded Spirit. He’d purchased the bar on a whim when the previous owner was
struggling. Six months later, he finally had time to check in on the management team.
He ended the call without waiting for an answer from his New Orleans assistant. With
business assets in London, Chicago, New Orleans, and New York, he had an assistant
for each location. Rumor was the four women shared a group chat where they
complained about him. But as long as they kept doing their jobs, he didn’t care.
They parked in front of the bar, and Kit hopped out of the car before the driver could
open it for him. He’d shed his expensive suit jacket on the drive from the plane, and now
he jerked off his tie and tossed it in the backseat before he shut the door.
He leaned against the side of the vehicle and watched as people moved up and down
the sidewalk. A woman came out of the MMA gym next door with a bag over her
shoulder. Wet hair hung down her back, and tight jeans hugged her firm hips and ass.
Her black blouse was low cut, and she’d pinned a cute red enamel pin above her left
breast. A red rose. When he caught himself staring, he jerked his head away and
focused on the window into his newest purchase. Two employees stood behind a long
antique looking bar, and a handful of patrons were scattered around the various stools
and tables.
The woman he’d been staring at, walked right in front of him and opened the door to the
bar. With a smirk, he pushed off the side of the SUV and followed her inside.
The woman headed for the door near the back marked “Employees Only.”
He strode through the small crowd and leaned against the bar.
“What can I get ya?” a woman said while she snapped her gum. He was tempted to tell
her to spit it out, but there was time for that later.
“I’ll have a New York sour with Maker’s.”
She blinked and stared at him. “A what now?”
He sighed and pulled out his phone to search for a recipe, then slid it across from her.
As she was reading it, the employee door opened again, and the woman came out and
headed for the bar.
“Jenna, have you ever made a…” The bartender trailed off and looked down at the
phone. “New York sour?”
Jenna frowned and pulled out a glass and shaker and set them on top of the bar. “Who
doesn’t know how to make a New York sour? It’s a whiskey sour with red wine on top,
Frankie.”
Frankie rolled her eyes and walked away, not bothering to slide Kit’s phone back to him,
so he reached across the bar to grab it.
Jenna smacked his hand and scowled. “Customers don’t reach behind the bar.”
The tone of voice she said it in irritated him and stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in
a while. Visions of bending her over the bar and turning her ass red flashed in his head.
Before he realized what he was doing, he grabbed her wrist. “And employees probably
shouldn’t hit the owner.”
Her eyes grew wide as she tried to pry her hand away. “Shit.”
Dirty Halo by Simone Leigh
I check my watch. It’s getting depressingly late…
Too late?
… Already the bar is thinning out. The dance floor too, as couples and groups make
their way elsewhere, to the room, parlour, cage or dungeon of their choice.
And then, I see him, across the floor, lounging against a wall, watching me.
Quite pointedly, watching me.
As he realises he’s caught my eye, his chin lifts and after a moment, he straightens
up, ambling across in that I’m really quite casual and not at all bothered way that
some men have, when you know that all the while, his cock’s doing press-ups.
So, I go into my routine. It’s a classic pose. I let my face tilt, my lips curve and I shift
my posture. Not much. It’s best to be subtle. But Eve probably used the pose, just
before she handed out the apples.
Canting a hip, I slide my left leg forward a little…
… then angle my glass into a Needs a Refill position, just rocking it a bit. Not too
much, so it doesn’t register consciously. But the movement catches the eye and
gives the John a cue.
Sure of his welcome now, he strolls across the floor, weaving his way through the
dancers and the exhibitionists, holding my gaze all the while. Well-turned out, he
saunters over as if he owns the joint, grinning like he owns me too. As he’s near
enough that I can see the detail, the Rolex on his wrist looks genuine and the suit
he’s wearing, hand-stitched, surely cost more than I earn in a month.
Yeah…
I’ve got his type…
Rich. Cocksure.
Used to having his own way.
Jerk?
Maybe.
Still, he looks good for a decent hit. Maybe the night’s not such a washout after all.
Dom?
Maybe…
Just in case, I lower my head as he draws closer, only raising my gaze again as he
stands close.
Partly it’s a classic submissive move, but also, it gives me chance to wheel out my
big guns. As my face lifts, his eyes widen, pupils expanding. “You have the most
amazing eyes,” he smiles. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
