I watched appreciatively as she saunters over in a matching set of girly underwear, nothing at all like what a grown woman should have on, but Susanna everything she wears on her skin sinful. I'll never see a Barbie imprinted fabric the same way again."Barbie?" I ask, unable to keep the tinge of amusement from my voice. She shrugs. "I might have seen it once as a kid, maybe even liked it, but I don't remember much from that time anymore." She starts to dip her toe into the water but she suddenly hisses, her eyes clashing with mine for a bewildered moment. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"I frown. "No."Murmuring something under her breath, she fumbles with the faucet until the water warms, and I wonder if she knows her breasts look fascinating when they jiggle like that. She looks worried. For me. The thought makes me feel odd, like a teenager nervous about asking the hottest girl in school to prom. I couldn't relate with either. I'd never had to ask a woman to be mine. I all b
Standing, I pull off my sleeveless shirt. My pants and briefs follow and I watch her take in every inch of my naked skin. She struggles to avert her gaze from my torso but she fails. Her back arches and her tongue slips out to wet her bottom lip as she stares shamelessly at my cock. I'd be offended that she desires that part of me more than she desires something real with me, but I'm a sucker for her. She doesn't know it yet, but I'll give her whatever she wants if she ever learns how to make demands.Susanna reaches for a loafer--my loafer, wets it and something about watching her rub something of mine against that pale skin makes arousal pool at my tip and drip. Down. She leans forward so suddenly, catching my precum on her lips like she couldn't afford to let it go to waste.Jesus.I sit, more than content with watching her squeeze the bubbled, soapy water down her neck, and I watch it soak her bra, run down her hard nipples. She watches me watch her. It makes her wilder. Incorrig
She extricates herself from my touch, turning around to grab her things angrily. "Yes, I'm on the fucking pill. The last thing I want, though it does seem everyone else is open to the idea, is a messy scandal with you or anything that'd bring me back to you after I leave." Agitation tightens my shoulders. She doesn't want to stay. She speaks of forgetting me. She doesn't want more from this. Me. It's just sex. I knew the lines would blur when it came to her. It is why it pissed me the fuck of that the hunger I felt only burned hotter for her. "You're unexpectedly good at this, Mrs. Hawke. The affair. The detachment. Staying your line. Clearly, this isn't new for you. How many other 'scandals' have there been? Two? Three? More?" The words are out before I can think of stop them. Venomous, spiteful and angry. And I hate them immediately, regret them. When Susanna turns to look at me, the light in her eyes are gone, replaced by a darkness I've seen haunt her in the privacy
I didn’t know her name, but I knew every inch of her body. I knew what she looked like when she came—heart shaped lips parted, nostrils flared, cheeks flush with color and sweat, grey doe eyes crossed…and on some occasions, rolled back in her head, her back arched, her nipples hard and glistening with saliva, and more importantly, there was something about her long, black hair clinging to her sweaty skin, to the odd but sexy dip in her hip that made me want to masturbate.I didn’t know his name either, but he fucked her a lot. And hit her a lot. She took each beating as perfectly as she took his dick in her mouth—like a good girl, but I wondered if he saw the hate that flashed in her eyes sometimes. I wondered if he saw how many times her gaze flicked to the hammer she kept at the top of her dresser every time he slapped her.She never left the house. He never let her. They fought too many times on that issue, loud enough to stir me from sleep. She wanted to see the world. She wanted
“There has been an unexpected development regarding the Thompson acquisition,” my secretary, Mark, tells me, and something at the back of my mind tells me this is important, yet, all I can hear is the commotion coming from the other side of the wall demarcating my fence from hers. He’s hitting her again. I really should have fixed this meeting at the office, or a hotel. But HR had decided this was best for…relating better with my employees and old man, Dante, was a pushy bastard sometimes. While the HQ is situated at Milan, we’d recently branched out into LA and I’m here to oversee the start and growth of this branch myself. I’d planned to stay a few months but the product launch is taking longer than expected. And while I often prided in my virtue of patience, I’m starting to lose it. Dante’s analysis of the situation stated that 99.99% percent of my employees thought I was a grumpy jerk who had little to no value for human life and
Their sex tonight time is different. Rougher. They are in her bedroom and she is bent over the arm of a green, plush couch, her hair pulled back by his fist as he rams his dick into her, punishing her, hitting her. Her eyes aren’t closed. No, she’s gazing out the window and my blood heats when she narrows her eyes at me, standing by my window. Surprise shines in her eyes, and I expect her to scream. Instead, her lips part, and her eyelashes flutter, a lustful haze darkening her eyes. And she smirks at me, biting her bottom lip as she comes. “Fuck,” I breathe, stepping away from the window, hands instinctively hiding my erection. There’s no way she sees me. My windows are one way through. There is no fucking way she saw me. Heart seconds away from exploding, I flee into the bathtub, stepping into the shower without taking off my clothes. I’m unsure how long I let the downpour drench me. I don’t get out until my teeth is clattering and my lips are blue. I’m s
I met Jaxon when I was sixteen. We got married when I was seventeen. It wasn’t so much a union of love as it was of necessity. I owed him. He owned me. The first and second years of our marriage had been painful. But it got better when I learned how to submit. How to be a docile little bitch when he needed me to. When I learned to sit by his feet without thinking it…humiliating. When I learned how to stand naked and take his sadistic administrations. When I learned to pretend to enjoy it. I’ve been married to him for four years and I’ve only set foot outside our home twice. It isn’t really ours. He likes to pretend it is mine, give me the illusion of freedom by leaving me all alone. For days sometimes. For weeks. I could walk right out through the gates. There are no guards to stop me. But I won’t. Why? Jaxon knows everything. There are cameras everywhere, monitoring my every breath. He’ll find me if I run—I know this, because I’ve tr
She’s asleep in the backseat, in my fucking coat. So much for wanting to flee from the sight of her and there she lies, snoring softly, her nightdress covering absolutely nothing as she turns, trying to get comfortable amongst my luggage. Bloody, flying fuck. “Sir, if I may—” I raise a tired hand to the new chauffeur. “Leave it. Have the first room in the guest wing tidied.” I groan at the thought of her in my sheets, in my bed, in my fucking house, without clothes. “No, the last room should do. Have it freezing cold. Disconnect the heater.” The middle-aged man arches a brow at me as I meet out more instructions, but he doesn’t ask questions as he hurries across the yard, past the front doors. With a ragged sigh, I get out of the car and pull her door open. “Mrs. Hawke?” I call out. Her lips remain parted and her features peaceful. There are purple bruises along her cheekbones and cuts on her neck and arm