Auctioned Virgin: Kidnapped: A Mountain Man Romance

By Frankie Love

Trusting a rogue mountain man was never a part of the plan.Justine came to Alaska to auction off her virginity to raise money for endangered animals, but Ryder has other ideas for this irresistible woman he’s determined to protect.He knows the bastard who intends on making the highest bid, so he’s getting Justine’s pretty little ass off the grid. Whether she likes it or not. The moment Justine lays eyes on this broad-shouldered, bearded man, with eyes that could melt ice caps, her charitable plans are over.Ryder is impossible to resist.But all is not calm in this cabin built for two ... kidnapping a virgin sets the stage for scandal ... and this filthy-sweet rendezvous may end up costing these two more than a weekend in the wild!Dear Reader,It’s time to snuggle up with Ryder and let him be your alpha hero! He’s rugged, untamed, and all yours! Enjoy!xo, frankie

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frankie Love
• Release date: Dec 3, 2021

Frankie Love

Frankie Love writes filthy-sweet stories about bad boys and mountain men. As a thirty-something mom who is ridiculously in love with her own bearded hottie, she believes in love-at-first-sight and happily-ever-afters. She also believes in the power of a quickie. Get ready to fall in love … you deserve it! **Frankie also writes under the name Charlie Hart!

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EXPOSÉ

The Gossip Column You Can Sink Your Teeth Into

IS THE HIGHEST BIDDER HOT OR NOT? By Trista Piper

Heiress Justine Van De Shire, daughter of adult-video empire, Hot Spot Entertainment, has recently made a shocking decision to sell her virginity to the highest bidder in an effort to raise money for charity.

The scandalous new law in Alaska allows for the sale of sex and the auction will take place in the wild mountain state.

Justine says she’s ready to go to the Alaskan bush... but here at EXPOSÉ, inquiring minds are more interested in what Justine’s actual bush looks like.

After all, she’s a twenty-four-year-old virgin.

When asked about her landing strip, she made a conservative statement, My lady parts are well-groomed, for what it’s worth. But I’d rather discuss the charity I’m raising money for, Humans Against Harming Animals.

When pressed about being ready to give up her V-card she said, I grew up around sex. I’m not scared. This is my body and a cause I believe in. I have nothing to be nervous about.

Hopefully, her nerves don’t get in the way the night of the live auction—because EXPOSÉ will be there reporting on more than what Justine wore and who was in attendance.

We’re most interested in finding out who the lucky bidder turns out to be!

1

Ryder

As I step inside my Anchorage hotel room, I rip off my tie and toss it aside. Fuck this collared shirt and suit coat—I don’t feel comfortable anywhere but my own piece of property—and certainly not at the stuffy bank where I spent the afternoon.

Opening the mini bar I grab a beer. Cracking it open, I take a swig before stripping out of my tee shirt and these dress pants.

I loved my mother to death, but putting me in charge of her philanthropy after she passed away was a big fucking commitment. One that forces me out of the comfort of my cabin and requires me to come to the city once a month to sign on the dotted line.

I flip on the television and lie on the bed, drinking my beer. Damn, knowing I must go to my jackass ex-stepfather, Luther’s place later tonight, puts me in a sour mood.

But then, as I’m flipping through the channels something catches my eye.

Or rather, someone.

A nondescript interviewer leans in, asking a question of a woman; a woman who is so fucking beautiful it makes my cock hard. My eyes are instantly glued to the tv screen.

Tell us, Justine Van De Shire, how do you defend your auctioning off your virginity?

I run a hand over my beard waiting for her to answer.

Living alone in the woods isn’t for every man, and certainly isn’t for any woman I’ve met yet—but I don’t care much for relationship bullshit anyway.

But when I look at this woman, I forget all about my ideals.

Sex has never been taboo in my family. As you know, the Van De Shires made their fortune from adult films. And since Alaska recently voted to allow the sale of sex, I decided that auctioning off my virginity, with the proceeds going to a worthy cause would be the perfect way to take control of not only my sexuality but to put my money where my mouth is.

The news anchor purses her lips, apparently not knowing how to respond to this well-spoken woman with long, dark tousled hair, pale pink lips, and caramel colored skin.

And where exactly is your mouth, Ms. Van De Shire?

Justine smiles serenely and crosses her legs. Her long, lean legs. With Humans Against Harming Animals.

At that, I almost spit out my drink. She’s raising money for HAHA?

According to my research, there are no animals in Alaska that are currently facing endangerment. Some opponents may use that fact to suggest this is a gimmick.

And to them, I say eff off.

The news anchor covers her mouth in shock, but I laugh out loud. So does Justine.

I mean, it, she says. Animals aren’t endangered in Alaska right now because people have worked so hard to ensure the natural land is preserved. I want to work toward that end.

By selling your virginity.

Justine shakes her head, a smile splayed across her heart-shaped face, her eyebrows angled and hinting at her expertise. No, I’m not selling anything. I’m auctioning my virginity off. And the highest bidder will have me for an entire night.

The interview ends and I groan as her face leaves the screen. The television scrolls a link to her website with the rules for the auction.

I could so easily go to the website, click on the link, take the steps to show up at that auction... to pay whatever it takes to have her.

But I won’t pay for sex—especially not to fund HAHA.

And I’ve lived in a city long enough to know I don’t want the strings that are attached when a woman finds out my family’s net worth. I’d rather be alone for the rest of my goddamned life than be with a gold-digger.

And this woman would go into the night knowing how much I could afford.

I don’t buy women—no matter what the cause.

Especially not this woman. She is fucking gorgeous, and while she came across as educated and intelligent in the interview—she’s still auctioning off access to her cunt. There’s no good that can come from that and the fact she doesn’t realize that worries me.

In the shower, I run a washcloth over my ladder of abs, exhaling when I think how long it’s been since I’ve slept with a woman. When I think about sleeping with that woman... with Justine...

As I hold my shaft, warm water runs over my beard and face, and my cock is hard as fuck. Damn. I close my eyes thinking about Justine. A woman with passion and fire blazing. And a virgin pussy that is tight and wanting. A woman who knows what she wants and how she wants it—taking control in the sexiest goddamn way.

I pump my shaft imaging Justine riding me, her tits bouncing as she screams my name. Hell, my thick cock is ready to explode as I picture her running her hands through her hair as she climaxes against me, as she whimpers in release.

She grew up around the porn industry and every red-blooded American man knows about the videos the Van De Shires have produced over the years.

The idea that a woman could grow up around that much blatant sex and still be a virgin gets my cock hungry as hell. I want that woman next to me, right now. I want to fill her with my cock, showing her what a real man is like. Not those men who will show up to buy her.

It kills me to think she’ll lose her virginity to some old dude with the most cash.

So, instead, I imagine her with me, her tight cunt dripping as I fill her the way she needs. Completely. I come hard at the thought of it, wishing like hell she was with me now in this shower. I’d bend her over and take hold of her smooth ass.

But I know Justine is about as close to my reality as the television screen, and am wondering who at HAHA okayed this publicity stunt. Last time I checked the organization wasn’t hard up for cash.

An hour or so later I’m parking my truck in my mom’s driveway. Well, it was my mom’s when she was still alive. Now it’s Luther’s place and it tears me up inside to come here at all.

As I get out of the truck, I try to stomach what he’s done to the massive estate. He spent my mom’s money on remodeling her mansion—and it’s lewd as all get out. Gold gilded gates, heated indoor pool, and last time I was here I counted six stone fireplaces.

He may have been a decent enough guy when my mother was alive—decent enough for a saint like her to have married him—but he took her death in the worst way possible.

He started fucking everything on two legs with abandon. It’s fucking disgusting, the way he’s taken his pain and turned it into something so damn ruinous.

As I walk toward the door, I see a young woman—barely legal, crying, high heels in hand, leaving it.

Are you okay? I ask.

I’m fine, she says, sniffling.

My brows pull together. She doesn’t look fine to me. She’s crying and cold and fumbling with her phone. Did Luther call you a car?

No. She wipes her eyes, trying to gain her composure.

I pull out my phone. I’m calling you a car. I give the cab company the address and tell the woman that the car will be here in a few minutes.

Thank you, it was stupid of me to come out here at all.

Did he hurt you? I ask, needing to make sure she is physically and mentally okay.

She shakes her head. No, but it wasn’t exactly smart to come home with a stranger.

The cab pulls up and I watch her get in the car, hoping that next time she won’t end up in this situation.

Now that Alaska changed their laws, Luther has made it his own personal vendetta to make sure every woman in this state has what they need... and he promises to pay substantially.

It’s fucking sick, the way he is using his money to buy what he wants, and when he wants it.

When Luther opens the door he is wearing a silk bathrobe.

It’s nasty, to be perfectly honest, and if we weren’t co-owners of several substantial pieces of Alaskan wilderness, I’d never come here. But I need to make sure he doesn’t do anything rash with his share of my mother’s fortune.

He’s creepy as fuck and I’m just glad my mom isn’t alive to watch him picking up twenty-one-year-old women at bars. He’s nearly sixty for God’s sake, he should be sleeping with women his own age, at the very least.

Knocking on the door, Luther grins, having expected me. Come in, Ryder, he says then adds, What did you think of that pretty piece of meat?

Come on, Luther. You know what I think of that.

He laughs. Damn, Ryder. You’re wound so damn tight, just like your mother was.