Shantae Risky Boots

“Who am I to you?I want to hear you moan it” “You are my sugar dada,” I responded huskily, my lips trembling faintly. “And you are…?” he teased, his voice thickening with heat, while he devoured me with his eyes as he swallowed hard. “I’m your little toy,” I whispered,my voice dripping with desire. “That’s my princess,” he said with a wicked grin, his tongue trailing slowly around my neck. His hand slid up and grabbed my breasts, squeezing gently before his mouth found my nipple. He tugged with his teeth, sending a jolt through me. ***** Charlotte Dame wasn’t in London to cry over a breakup. She just wanted a change of scenery, a little peace, not another man. Then she bumped into Clinton Hinns— a 53-year-old billionaire way too sexy for his age. She was 27, guarded, and not looking to fall for someone twice her age. But some temptations don’t knock, they crash right into you. From quiet seduction, and risky demands, she soon finds herself wrapped up in wild evenings, erotic adventures, and illicit cravings tangled in reckless trios and thrilling paths of love, desire, and wicked indulgence awaiting Charlotte. She indulges her desires and embraces her freedom to the fullest. Her Sugar Daddy is irresistible, that’s for sure. He’s older, and It doesn’t bother her. He showers her with luxurious gifts and pampers her to the fullest. She’s definitely living her dream life, but a dark truth comes to light — one that could turn her world upside down and crush her reality. What if it’s more terrifying than she could have imagined? When it finally hits her, just one thought fills her mind. let’s hop on this ride! RATED 18 - proceed with caution

The day after my best friend, Sarah Blunt married Patrick, the second son of the Brosnan family, I too became a bride and wed Matthew, his older brother. She married a swimming champion, and I, the rock-climbing coach. We thought we had our futures all figured out. Then, something happened that summer. The four of us planned a getaway but Matthew and Patrick’s baby sister, Megan joined us and our peaceful trip became a crowded affair.  While rock climbing, disaster struck—the rope snapped, and all five of us plummeted into the river below. The brothers rushed frantically to save Megan, leaving Sarah and me at the mercy of the river’s current, battered and tossed like driftwood. By the time the rescue team pulled us from the water, we were bruised, scraped, and utterly spent. In the hospital, Megan and I received devastating news that would change everything.  “You’ve been pregnant for 40 days, Ma’am. How could you put yourself in such a risky situation? Your baby survived, but your friend lost hers.” Shaken, I called Matthew to tell him about the pregnancy. His anger cut through the line. “You’re angry that I went to Megs first and now you’re trying to fool me with a fake pregnancy? She’s my sister—it’s my duty to protect her!” Sarah faced her own storm. Patrick practically scoffed at her grief. “Miscarriage? Do you expect me to believe that? The doctors said you only had a 30% chance of conceiving. I can’t stand women who create drama out of nothing.” Both calls ended abruptly, leaving us stunned as we stared at each other in the sterile light of the hospital room. In that shared silence, we made our decision—we would leave these men behind and start anew, launching a business together. But when the brothers received our divorce papers, they showed up at my door in the middle of a storm, kneeling in the pouring rain, crying through the night for a second chance.