Park Avenue Courtesan: A Billionaire Reverse Harem Romance

By Matilda Martel

Allegra Valeri: I am a courtesan. No doubt it’s strange to hear someone admit to such an antiquated profession, but there is no better way to describe it. First and foremost, I am not ashamed of what I do. I don’t sleep around with countless men and in truth, I have probably slept with fewer men than most 23-year-old women living in Manhattan. This wasn’t the life I wanted or expected, but I make do with the hand I was dealt.   

I have three lovers who have access to me two days a week and then I have one day to myself.  On those days, I am theirs and theirs alone. Most of the time, we have sex, but sometimes we just enjoy each other’s company. I am not their mistress. For these men, a mistress is dangerous. A mistress falls in love and might want to become a wife. I will not. This is my job and I do not mix business with affairs of the heart. I live a life of leisure and in return I make them extraordinarily happy. I am a courtesan. That’s my job.  

Boris Malakhov: This isn’t the life I wanted or expected, but some things were out of my control. My father fell into this crowd when he was still in Leningrad, St. Petersburg now. They helped him escape and then bring my mother over a year later. Times were different and it was harder to get out. He felt he owed them everything, including his son.  When the Pakhan, or godfather, my father’s closest friend, encouraged me to keep my nose in my books, I thought I would be allowed to make my own way, but they had other plans.  He put me through college and law school, NYU then Columbia, because he wanted to create his very own mob lawyer entrenched from the inside and above all suspicion.   

As much as I want something that resembles a normal life—maybe a family--I always feared dragging someone else into my world. That was before I met Allegra. Now, things are different.  Right now, I share her with three others, but I can’t take this much longer. It just needs to be us from now on. I know she loves me, she’s just too stubborn and vindictive to admit it. 

Nothing is ever as it seems. Find out what happens when jealous lovers fight to have her to themselves and her favorite, a Russian attorney with a secret, finally melts her icy heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Matilda Martel
• Release date: Nov 29, 2023

Matilda Martel

Matilda loves many things---her husband, dachshunds, cats, the two terrible Chihuahuas who live with her, Paris, New York, a few select friends and family, Nutella, books, lots and lots of books, and writing sweet, steamy romance for nerdy girls-- because that's who I am.If you like your romances steamy but sweet. Sexy, but on the shorter side. With smart and sassy heroines who fall for soulful Alphas- then you might like my books.I write A LOT of OMYW, cause that's just my bag. But no matter what kind of story it is, my ladies are always adored and my endings are always HEA.Please head to my blog: www.matildamartel.com, to learn what's in the final stages and will be coming out soon!Want a free Ebook? Join my mailing list to get my monthly newsletter at : www.matildamartel.com/mailinglist/

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Park Avenue Courtesan

Copyright © 2019 by Matilda Martel

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

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CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Epilogue

Epilogue

Sneak Preview of The Pastor

Follow Me

Also by Matilda Martel

PROLOGUE

ALLEGRA

Iam a courtesan. No doubt it’s strange to hear someone admit to such an antiquated profession, but there is no better way to describe it. First and foremost, I am not ashamed of what I do. I don’t sleep around with countless men and in truth, I have probably slept with fewer men than most 23-year-old women living in Manhattan. This wasn’t the life I wanted or expected, but I make do with the hand I was dealt.  

Do not mistake me for a prostitute or mistress, I am neither. A prostitute sells her body for a predetermined amount of time and money. My service is more than sex, my service is my talent and time.  Moreover, I don’t peddle my goods to any man who pays my fee. I don’t have a fee, it’s so much more complicated than that. 

I have three lovers who have access to me two days a week and then I have one day to myself.  On those days, I am theirs and theirs alone. Most of the time, we have sex, but sometimes we just enjoy each other’s company. I am not their mistress. For these men, a mistress is dangerous. A mistress falls in love and might want to become a wife. I will not. This is my job and I do not mix business with affairs of the heart. 

In exchange for my very gratifying services, I have an apartment in my name in Carnegie Hill, in the Upper East Side of the city. They pay for a housekeeper and a cook, supply me with a weekly allowance, a lingerie and clothing allowance, a car service, health insurance and extra money set aside to be invested in a retirement account.  I don’t mess around, literally or figuratively. I am contractually bound to only have sexual relations with the three men who pay for my lifestyle. I live a life of leisure and in return I make them extraordinarily happy. I am a courtesan. That’s my job. 

CHAPTER 1

ALLEGRA

C ome back to bed. The insatiable Russian in my bed wags his eyebrows and lifts the covers, showing me the incredible erection that awaits my return. 

No, sir. You always do this. Felix is coming by during his lunch hour. I have three hours to get ready. Stretching my back by the window, I take a few more sips of tea, and then pull my hair up.  

Fuck, Felix. He needs to go home to his wife. Boris follows me into the shower, his enormous hard-on bounces as he walks, helplessly drawing my eyes to it.  

"I see you, zaika. My eyes are up here. You know you want it and as always, I want to give it to you."  

I do not. I’ve had enough of it. I squirm away as he pulls me into his arms, stabbing the small of my back with his cock.  

Make it go down already. I tease but look down at it adoringly. He’s so big. After almost a year together, I still sigh and smile every time I look at it. 

You’re wet and naked. There’s no way it’s going down. Get over here and take your punishment. Lifting me with ease, he holds me against the shower wall and slides his giant shaft into me. The quick invasion sends shivers down my spine as I wrap my legs around his muscular back and let him fuck me to his heart’s content. It is impossible to say no to him.  

Oh God, Boris, slow down! I close my legs high on his back, curl my toes and screech as the delicious friction hurls me towards my first orgasm. 

I can’t work like this.

Afraid he’ll come too soon, he carries our wet, dripping bodies back to bed and