I'm Not Sorry- Celinda Santillan & Fiona Flores
copyright © 2012 Celinda Santillan & Fiona Flores
All rights reserved.
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This novel, "I'm Not Sorry" with all chapters’ prologues, epilogues, and any associated content (i.e fanfic, teasers and contents within blogs, social networks, and eReaders) is copy righted under the Copyright, designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights are reserved by the owner and creator of this work (Celinda Santillan & Fiona Flores) and any unauthorized copying, broadcasting, manipulation, distribution, or selling of this work constitutes as an infringement of copyright.
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I’m Not Sorry
Prologue
It’s my twentieth birthday, February twenty-eight. From the day I was born I was my father’s life.My mother isn’t cruel, but my opinion in most cases doesn’t matter to her. It’s neutral though, it doesn’t bother me one bit. I still do what I want whenever I want. I’m just that special. I used to be loved by everyone; now I’m loved only by men. I play with their head and prove how much the same they all are. Pigs, assholes, thieves.
Pigs: They only want one thing ladies and that’s what you have between your legs. They will get down and dirty to get it.
Assholes: They will tell you exactly what you want to hear and then they will act as if they never said anything in front of their friends, family, or anyone in view.
Thieves: They steal your hearts and then tear them apart. Heart break is the worst feeling isn’t it?
Now women aren’t much different. They tend to be very territorial. One look at their man and they hate you for life. Jealousy, hatred, challenge is always in their eyes, but I’m different. I actually don’t keep their men. I see what I like, I get it. It’s that simple.
I’m 5’6 in height. My raven black hair passes my shoulders just flowing around my waist. My skin is flawless, so I don’t wear make-up, but with my full rosy lips and clear blue eyes it always seems like I do. I’m considered very attractive. My image is of those women would kill to have. I’m beautiful on the outside, but one the inside it way different. Let me take you back a year when it was all different.
Right now I turned twenty. On my regular birthday I would have been woken by my father, Jared Veen, and be given a gift only he could afford. This is the rare occasion where I actually see my mother. She’s always busy with work that it was a surprise she lived with us and not her office. Well, that’s what happens when you are a big time lawyer and your husband happens to be a partner and founder of Veen&Co. Everyone only expects perfection from the very professional Veen household. I never cared, I still don’t. All that I saw was how much my dad was in my life. How much he loved me. I was his world and he was mine.
But things change. Change is good. It makes you see truth behind the lies. How a naïve girl like me could believe that everything was alright. That nothing could ever go wrong? Life’s a bitch, but I’m showing how much of a bigger bitch I can be.
I look at myself in the mirror and grin at the sight. My raven black hair falls down my back in perfect waves. The black color hides my strawberry blonde natural hair color. I dyed it so I would look less like my mother. My skirt is black and extra short and lacey, but not tight. My red collar top shows my curvy figure and flat stomach. My read heel boots shows how long and flawless my legs are. My blue eyes pop out more with my new black eye linear. My eyes show lust and seduction. I really do live up to my name. Aphrodite Veen, just like the Goddesses of love, and seduction.
I really did used to be in love with everyone. I had more friends than I could count. They all worshipped me. I wasn’t a bitch. I wasn’t mean. I was actually, what is that word? Oh yeah. I was actually nice. Now I don’t care about anyone. I’m perfectly content in taking what I want when I want even if someone doesn’t like it or gets hurt. I got hurt and I’m dealing with it. Why can’t someone else?
The women at university I’m attending don’t particularly like me. I guess that’s what happens when you steal their boyfriends or end their marriage. What can I say? All men are the same. I yet have a man to turn me down no matter how nice and sweet they may seem. They aren’t even worth my time after I get what I want. There was only one man who was an exception. It was my father, but he’s dead. My mother killed him with a lie. And for that she is paying even if she doesn’t know it yet. She will soon and oh she will feel the same betrayal my dad felt just before he took his last breaths. You see my mother was having an affair with my father’s best friend/personal advisor, Dylan Wine. In one of their passionate encounters at the office my father walked in on them and left with rage running through this blue veins. Walking across the street in deep thought he didn’t see the truck going his way. He was killed instantly. A week later my mother re-married to Dylan. He’s a pathetic excuse for a man. Yes, I find him attractive, and what he does to my body turns me on and disgusts me at the same time. Oh, did I mention I’m screwing my mother’s new husband? No? Well, there you go. A living proof that all men are pigs. Fucking his wife’s daughter? Who does that? Oh, yeah, him.
I raise my eyebrow in amusement while still facing the mirror as Dylan himself opens my door with a smirk. He lets himself in and locks the door shut. He lustfully sizes my body through the mirror so I turn around to give him the full view. Well, we can’t keep the man waiting, can we?
I strut forward and run on finger down his well-built chest until I reach the budge in his jeans. I tease him by having my finger brush against him. He groans at the feel of me touching him.
“You know what I want for my birthday?” I purr.
“What?”
I pull my top over my head and let it fall to the floor. I do the same with my skirt so I am now in my bright red lingerie. I grab his hand and place it on my breast. He squeezes me hard and I feel my hormones erupt as his lips press against my neck. I moan. I have more control though. I push him until he’s on his back on my bed. I straddle his hips, feeling his erection against inner thigh. He feels so good. His hands roam from my breast to my ass. He pulls me down so I could feel just how hard he is for me. I crush my lips to his and kiss him. His tongue nibbles on my bottom lip for access that I grant. I unbutton his shirt and run my hands down his chest. He feels so good beneath me. I strip him down to his boxers. His erection seems even bigger and harder as he presses it to my entrance. I ride him, giving him a taste of what he’s going to get.
I abruptly stop and lean forward so my lips are a breath away from his ear. “I want you fuck me hard. I want you to show me just how good you really are. Are you ready to give me what I want?”
He smirks at the challenge. “Don’t you have class to go to, sexy?”
I grin. “We have the entire house to ourselves.” I squeeze his dick. “Want to play student and teacher? I want you on your office desk.” I suggest.
He grabs my thighs, spreading them wide so his erection presses harder to my entrance that is only covered by the red thin fabric. “I can feel you wet. Fuck, you’re amazing.”
I press my finger to his lips. “Are you going to keep talking? Or are you going to make me scream your name?”
Dylan stands up with my legs wrapped around his waist. He begins to kiss me with such passion. I might despise him, but he is a great lover. Before long I feel him throw everything off his desk. My back presses against his redwood desk. His lips never leave mine.
“I’m going to make you scream.”
“You’re a cocky little shit, Dylan.” He unclips my bra and lets it fall. He rips off my thong while I take off his boxers. I move up on the desk as he lays on top of me. He pushes my thighs apart and readies himself to enter me. “Don’t disappoint me.” I grin. He smirks and thrusts into me hard. I gasp at the feel of him inside of me. I scream his name in pure inclination. He repeats over and over again until we climax. He collapses on top of me with 'heavy breaths. I narrow my eyes. “Oh, Dylan, I’m not done with you.”
I roll him over on his back. I kiss him from his lips down his jaw to his chest and down his now again hard erection. “You’re going to kill me.” He moans. I let my tongue run from the tip and up until I have him full in my mouth. I suck him until I can feel him dripping. I replace my mouth with my hand and squeeze him hard. “Fuck!” he groans in pleasure. I position myself and ride him hard. I push down to take him full on.
We continue to have sex throughout the house. It’s a surprise how many times I can turn him on in a day.
After finishing with him I smile in satisfaction. I quickly get dressed and run to the living room. Dylan smirks at me and I lean down to kiss my step-father. He lets his hand wonder up my shirt. I straddle him and run my fingers through his hair.
“You’re a good fuck.” I complimented.
“Same to you. Are you up for another round?” wow, this guy is a sex addict.
“On the sofa? Hmmm… how about on your bed?”
“Anything you want Baby, it’s your birthday.” He kisses down my neck.
“Anything I want? I want you to call my mom right now then.”
“Why?” he asked confused.
“You’ll see.” I feel so dirty, it feels good, but if my dad was still alive I would have never become the person that I am. The person I have become. It’s all their fault I become this person and both of them will pay for everything. They all will.
He dials my mothers and begins to talk. I undo his zipper and let him be exposed to me.
I have sex with Dylan while he’s on the phone with her and I’m not sorry.
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