Twelve years later...I sit back in my chair and stretch out my legs as Anna moves between them. She decided long ago she wanted to use the name her biological parents gave her because it was after the woman who loved her the most.After hearing her fake father call her the name he'd given her, she decided that day it would be the last time she used it. After all, every document that we had named her as Anna when she went to the bank in Germany."No, we won't be in attendance," I say into the phone as her nimble fingers undo my belt. I brush her hair out of her face, and she looks up at me and pouts. "Hold on." When I pull the phone away from my ear, I hold her chin. "Do you want to go?"She quietly nods, and I brush my thumb over her cheek, telling her to keep going. When I put the phone to my ear, she unzips my slacks."Never mind, we'll be there." The person on the other end keeps speaking as she works my hard cock free. It's not easy with the size of it, and she has to lift it out
Sabrina Hart will do anything her father asks for, including becoming a spy to help him get his lick back at Bryant Colliver, the grumpy billionaire who's giving their cooperation a hard time, but little did Sab know that Bryant is aware of her true identity and true intentions to dig up proof of his real estate schemes.Bryant formulates a plan of his own. Make Sab fall for him, sleep with her, and send her back to Daddy in tears.But Bryant's plan turns sour when he finally gets to meet Sabrina, and theirs is a connection like no other. They get each other's jokes and finish each other's sentences.It's a match made in heaven.Still, Bryant must be sure that Sabrina's intentions toward him are pure this time. Will they get their happily ever after?-------------1: Bryant.I do a double take, positive I've misheard my CFO. "They what?"Randall props a hip on the edge of my desk and takes his time repeating himself. "Hart, our biggest competitor, is sending in a spy." With a flourish
I can barely hear over the crackling in my ears.The sound grows stronger as the elevator climbs. All the way to the top of Colliver Enterprises. I'm holding a slim leather folder in my hand. The only thing inside is a fake resume for someone named Sarah Hart, crafted by my father's lawyers.Why am I doing this?My eyes tick down to the emergency stop button, a string in my gut pulling taut.Push it. Go home. You owe nothing to your father's company.But that's not entirely true, is it?After all, if I go home, I'll be returning to the apartment he's paying for. My new duplex on the East River with studio space for my projects. My college courses are paid for, not a single loan to my name, unlike so many of my fellow students. I've never done anything to earn what my father has given me. And I've been to countless therapists who tell me I shouldn't have this constant guilt germinating inside of me. But I do. What did I do to deserve so much luck?I'm not accomplished in anything.Can'
What happens next is kind of...alarming.Bryant Colliver points at the couch—and I go. I simply go. As if he has commanded something inside of me I didn't know was there. My feet are moving before I know what's happening and I'm sitting down in front of him, hands clasped together on my folder, my face level with his gold belt buckle. An odd impulse catches me off guard. I want him to cup my face. Stroke it. I want to drop everything on the ground, let my muscles go slack and let his single hand hold my entire body upright. Did I drink some bad milk with breakfast?When he finally, finally, takes his seat beside me, I scoot back. As far away as possible. Because the impact of him is too potent. Too big. He smells expensive, like ice-cold gold. He's large and powerful and already this interview is inappropriate. I've never been on a job interview and still, I'm well aware we're not supposed to be sitting on a couch, facing each other, our knees an inch apart. What is the rapid pulse pi
My God, I can't seem to concentrate. I don't understand the odd click that happened inside of me when she walked into this office. Like...my soul was expecting her. It doesn't make any fucking sense. We're not supposed to have things in common. This anger we share, left behind almost certainly by our parents, our upbringing, it's binding us tighter by the second. I have a clear mission here—seduce the brat and send her back to Hart crying. After everything her father has done to my family, I shouldn't be hesitating now.She's attracted to me. I can push a little, overwhelm her.Unfortunately, I'm not so sure I won't overwhelm myself in the process.My dick is stiff, palms perspiring. She's wearing a white skirt and it's just north of too short for a job interview. Instead of pushing it up and sliding my fingers down the front of her panties...I have the most insane urge to lecture her.You do not wear skirts unless I'm with you.I want to say it to her while she's face down over my la
"I'm waiting, Sarah." My hand has been coasting up her thigh and my fingertips reach her panties now, my index finger slipping between her unsettlingly-soft pussy and the cotton crotch, tugging, then pressing back in, knuckle to her slit, rubbing, twisting, making her gasp. "What qualities in a man are important in your world?""Umm." Her lashes flutter, neck flushing. "Honesty. Compassion. Humor.""I'm none of those things," I rasp against her mouth—just as her flesh blooms open, allowing me to knuckle gently deeper and tease her clit.Her grip flies to the arm of the couch, back arching on a rocky intake of breath. "Guess you're out of the running then.""Your wet pussy says I'm not just in the running, I'm in first place.""Mr. Colliver—"I don't know why her formal use of my name sets me off, but it does. I like it because a sick part of me looks forward to her obedience in bed. I hate it, too, because I want to be Bryant to her. Before I can reconcile my own intentions, I move in
Panic claws at my back.Fix it. Fix it now."I'm sorry, baby," I whisper against her plush mouth, then lower at her throat where her pulse races out of control. I'm pushing up her skirt. Dragging my open mouth down the front of her heaving body, toward her cunt. It's my single-minded destination. I can repair this. I can give her pleasure and forsake my own. I can lick her off until she forgets my proposition. Never mind that she was supposed to say yes. That my plan was to make her my whore and rub her father's face in it. Never mind that. My chest is ready to explode and I can't think about plans and strategies. Who gives a fuck about those things when her eyes are clouded over with pain?"Come on, baby," I growl when I reach her panties. Nude. Nude thong. Goddamn. I lick her slit through the cotton like she's the fountain of life, feasting on her mound through the dampening material. Sweet. "Let me apologize. I'm sorry. Let me make it better."Who the fuck am I in this moment? I ha
I'm walking home from the art supply store in the rain. At first, my hood is up to guard me against the elements, but I change my mind halfway home and pull it back, allowing the condensation to soak my hair, my clothes. The cold droplets running down my face help cool the sting of embarrassment left over from my "job interview" yesterday.Somewhere uptown, a billionaire is laughing at me.I'm a girl in a long line of girls who have probably laid down on that couch and fallen prey to the most glorious face and physique on the planet. I never expected myself to be so easily seduced and gullible. He really made me believe there was a...connection between us. Something tangible. Now that I have some distance, I know I must have imagined it. Even though I can still feel the press of his hands on my thighs, his breath on my belly.His ravenous mouth between my legs.That's the part I keep getting stuck on.Why was he so single-minded about giving me pleasure? I can still remember how he lo