It all seems lost, until I meet the two men charged withguardingme.
Dominant, gorgeous, and rough - the two rugged cowboys look at me in a way that sends dirty, filthy, forbidden thoughts through my head and heat through places in my body it shouldn’t.
Something about them makes me want to let themtake meany way they please, until I’m begging for more.
But I’m their captive, and this is all wrong. I definitely shouldn’t feel this way, and I definitely shouldn’tmoanwhen they put their rough hands all over me.
A good girl like me shouldn’t want themto claim my innocence.
Bothof them…
Roman/Colt
She doesn’t belong in a place like this. She’s too sweet, and too good.
Tooinnocent.
But something about that untouched purity brings out the beast in us, and makes us want toclaimher as our own.
It’s our job to guard her. It’s our job toteachher, and train her - make her the perfect plaything for some rich pr*ck when he comes tobuyher.
But now that we’ve laid eyes on her, there’s no way we’re giving her up.
Now we’reobsessed, and if we want to save her, we have tobreakher.
She’s never been touched, but we’re about to put our filthy handsallover her…
Breaking Her Innocenceis a quick and filthy book involving two utterly obsessed alpha heroes, one sassy heroine, and enough insta-love, steam, and sugary-sweetness to make your Kindles melt. This mfm romance isallabout her – no m/m. If you love over-the-top, slightly unrealistic, and wildly dirty stories, this one’s for you! HEA with NO CHEATING!
Copyright ©2017 Madison Faye
All rights reserved.
Editing: Sennah Tate
Cover: White Rabbit Creative
No partof this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.
This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains extremely sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language which may be considered offensive by some readers. This book is strictly intended for those over the age of 18.
All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual.
1
Johanna
Iawoketo the smell of straw and hay. Suddenly, it was all coming back to me, though it’d been near dark when I’d been brought in the night before. I remembered the men coming to collect me at my parent’s farm, my aunt and uncle keeping stoic, forced faces as to not worry my little cousins. I’d known it was coming, and I’d been sitting on the porch steps with my bag ready to go when the pickup truck had rolled up our dusty drive. Sure, I was scared, and I didn’t even really get what was going on even as we drove off — the two dusty cowboys riding in the truck cab, with me sandwiched between two bales of hay in the back of the truck. But, I knew it was something I had to do. I just wished I’d knownwhatit was I was going off to do exactly.
The crops had been doing pretty poorly for a few years, but I guess Uncle Jim just hadn’t let on how bad things had gotten until the bank man came out to give him his final warning in person.That’swhen my aunt Mary had cried, and I’d hid my little cousins out in the barn and distracted them with hair braiding while my aunt and uncle had the big blowout. That was a rough night. I may have only been nineteen, but I was old enough to know that whatever was up was bad, and that we might have to move.
The man from the farm came the next day, right after breakfast.
I’d been up since first light, doing chores, milking our cow, and tending to the chickens, and I remember peering up and squinting as he drove up the dusty drive. He’d pulled up out front of the house, around the side from where I was working near the barn, and I scampered to the corner of the house to peer around at the stranger who’d come calling so early.
I’d had a bad feeling instantly, feeling my stomach sour and my skin crawl a little just as soon as I’d seen him get out of his truck. He was tall, and broad-shouldered in a way thatshouldhave completed that whole dashing cowboy look, especially with the jeans, the boots, and the big ten-gallon hat. But it was that sneer on his face — the way he’d spat in the dirt of the driveway when he’d stepped out. It was the way he’d turned instantly and looked right at me, as if he’d known I was there all along. I shivered — not in a good way — at that mean, smug look on his face.