The Billionaire's Nympho Secretary
His lips crashed into mine like he couldn’t stop himself. Like he had been holding something back for too long and it had finally cracked.
I wanted it just as badly as he did.
“I tried to ignore this,” he muttered against my lips, voice rough and ragged. “Tried to erase it.”
His mouth returned to mine, hotter, hungrier, tongue sliding into mine, tasting me like I was something he needed to survive.
“But you’re everywhere,” he breathed, kissing the corner of my mouth, then down to my throat. “In my head, my routine, in my f*cking sleep haunting every dream.”
I couldn’t answer.
“You’ve broken me,” he whispered into my skin, like a secret he never meant to say out loud. “And I can’t even bring myself to hate it.”
My body trembled at the admission. I affected him as much as he affected me and that thought was heavenly.
*********
She was the quiet shadow behind his magnificent empire, efficient, obedient, forgettable.He was the billionaire with the Midas touch of gold and power, untouchable, commanding, and always in control.
But when Mark Rexona walks into his office and finds his seemingly shy and diligent secretary, Teresa Smith , with her fingers deep in a fantasy that stares something in him, something that destroys his control.
Two worlds collide then collided, hers, filled with quiet but intense yearning and hidden heat and his, was ruled by dominance and untamable desire. What starts as one very stupid mistake behind a supposedly locked door spirals into an exciting and intoxicating game of lust, secrets, and power plays. He wants to own her and her pleasure and she is still haunted by the ghosts of her past.
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Chapter: Ninety EightTeresa's POV The blood drained from my face. My hands started to shake. This wasn’t Evelyn’s frantic, emotional style. This was cold, pointed, and far more frightening. I didn’t reply. I turned on my heel and started back toward the hotel, my pace fast, almost a jog.---Mark wasn’t in the room when I returned. The emptiness was a relief and a new source of anxiety. I paced, the cryptic messages burning in my mind.About twenty minutes later, the door opened. It wasn’t Mark. It was Anthony, holding a small paper bag. “Mr. Rexona asked me to bring you this. He said you might not have eaten.” He placed the bag on the side table—it smelled of fresh pastry and coffee. He didn’t leave immediately, his posture alert but not intrusive.“Thank you, Anthony,” I said, my voice tight.“Ma’am.” He gave a short nod. As he turned to leave, his sleeve pulled back slightly, revealing a thick, ropy scar that ran from his wrist up his forearm. A old, violent injury. Our eyes met for a fraction of a se
Last Updated: 2026-02-11
Chapter: Ninety SevenTeresa's POV When he finally ended the call, the silence rushed back in. He looked at me, his expression expectant, as if waiting for my gratitude.“You okay?” he asked.I hesitated, choosing my words. “I don’t know.”He frowned slightly, a line appearing between his brows. “Why?”“Because this doesn’t feel over,” I said, gesturing vaguely at the phone in his hand. “It feels like it just shifted. From a person to a… a system. A threat you have to manage 24/7.”He walked back to the bed and sat on the edge beside me. The mattress dipped under his weight. He reached for my hand, his fingers warm and dry as they closed over mine, squeezing gently.“I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. This is what that looks like.”“I know,” I said, pulling my hand back to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, breaking the contact. “That’s not what I’m scared of.”His hand remained where it was, empty now. His gaze sharpened. “Then what are you scared of?”I searched his face—the familiar, h
Last Updated: 2026-02-11
Chapter: Ninety SevenTeresa's POV I woke up slowly, not because I was well rested, but because my body ached in that quiet, warm way that was a detailed map of the night before. My back felt sore, a dull throb from being held against the headboard. My thighs felt heavy, muscles remembering the strain of holding him close. My skin felt sensitive everywhere, a phantom memory of his hands and mouth, like I’d been touched too much and not enough at the same time.The room was gray with early morning light. Not bright yet. Just enough to see shapes—the rumpled sheets, the dark shape of his suit jacket thrown over a chair, the sharp lines of his phone on the nightstand. The curtains barely moved with the conditioned air from the vent. The city outside was quiet, a low hum that hadn’t yet built into daytime roar.Mark was still asleep.That alone felt strange, like catching a predator off guard.I turned my head on the pillow to look at him. He lay on his back, one arm thrown heavily across my waist. It wasn’t
Last Updated: 2026-02-11
Chapter: Ninety FiveTeresa's POV “It is in this room,” he said, and without another word, he guided me gently but firmly away from the desk and toward the large bed. “Sit.”I sat on the edge of the mattress, mostly because my legs felt suddenly unsteady. He didn’t go far; he sat down right beside me, so close that our thighs pressed together from hip to knee. The heat of his body was immediate and comforting.The playfulness faded, leaving the raw truth between us. “I’m scared,” I said quietly, looking down at my hands in my lap.He turned his body toward me, his full attention like a physical weight. “Of what? Tell me.”“That I’m stepping into a space that was never really empty,” I whispered. “That one day, someone from your past—Evelyn or someone else—will come back with a legitimate claim. Or that I’ll always feel temporary. Like a placeholder until your real life resumes.”“That will never happen,” he said, his voice absolute.“You can’t know that for sure.”“I do,” he stated, leaving no room for a
Last Updated: 2026-02-07
Chapter: Ninety FourTeresa's POV I came back to the hotel room much later than I had intended. The city lights had fully come on, painting the hallway in a dim, golden glow. I stood outside the door for a full minute, my hand raised, knuckles hovering an inch from the wood. I felt like a stranger, unsure if I was still allowed to enter. I hadn’t texted. I hadn’t called. I had just walked, and thought, and finally turned my feet back toward him, hoping he would still be there.The door swung open almost before I could finish knocking.Mark stood in the doorway. He looked like he hadn’t moved since I left. His shirt was slightly wrinkled, his hair looked like he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly, and his eyes were dark and intense.“Where were you?” he asked.His voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t gentle either. It was tight, strained, like a wire pulled too far.“I told you,” I said, my own voice quiet. “I needed air.”“You were gone for three hours and twenty-two minutes,” he said, his gaze scan
Last Updated: 2026-02-07
Chapter: Ninety ThreeTeresa's POV That shut him up. He visibly recoiled, his face going pale. He gave a single, stiff nod.I walked past him to my suitcase, unzipped it, and pulled out simple clothes: jeans, a plain long-sleeved top, sneakers. I changed quickly in the bathroom, my hands shaking slightly as I fumbled with buttons. I splashed cold water on my face, avoiding my own red-rimmed eyes in the mirror.When I came out, he was still standing in the same spot, but now his arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw clenched so tightly I could see the muscle working. He looked more lost than angry.“I won’t be long,” I said, my voice softer now, drained.He nodded once, his eyes fixed on a point on the wall behind me. “I’ll be here.”“Don’t follow me,” I said, needing the boundary to be explicit.“I won’t,” he said, though the words seemed to cost him.I didn’t fully believe him—his nature was to protect, to control, to fix—but I didn’t have the energy left for another argument. I simply walked
Last Updated: 2026-02-06
Oops, I Kissed My Villain Boss
I ground my hips against him, seeking friction. He groaned into my mouth, one hand moving to my breast, squeezing it firmly. His thumb brushed over my nipple through my bra, making it harden instantly. I broke the kiss to gasp, but he pulled me back, his lips claiming mine again. We kissed like we couldn't get enough, tongues tangling, breaths mixing in short pants.
Anthony's other hand slid down to my ass, pulling me tighter against him. I rocked my hips faster, feeling the outline of his cock rub against my pussy. My panties were soaked now, the fabric clinging to me. He broke the kiss this time, trailing his mouth down my neck, sucking on the skin there. I tilted my head back, letting him bite lightly, the sensation sending sparks through my body.
'Florence,' he whispered against my throat, his voice rough. 'I need to taste you.'
**************
Five years ago, Florence Davidson lost everything. Her family, their fortune, and her brother was framed for a crime he didn’t commit. Now, she’s back with one goal, to destroy the man she blames for it all.
But billionaire CEO Anthony St. Louis isn’t the villain she expected, just cold, brilliant, and far more complicated. When a twisted truth surfaces and sparks fly between them, Florence finds herself torn between revenge and a love she never planned for.
As secrets unravel, a child appears, a hidden past resurfaces, and the real enemy steps out of the shadows.
Love was never part of the plan... but it might be the only way out.
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Chapter: Ninety FiveFlorence POV Then he kissed me. It wasn’t gentle or questioning. It was firm, claiming, desperate. A kiss that was both a promise and an anchor, pouring all his fierce determination and unspoken feeling into me. I kissed him back with equal fervor, clinging to him, to the solid reality of him, as the world threatened to spin away. For that moment, the danger, the fear, the impossible odds—none of it existed. There was only him, and the unshakeable truth that we were in this to the end, side by side.When we broke apart, breathless, the world rushed back in, but the core of my fear had been replaced with a hardened resolve.We needed an edge. Our handguns and Javier’s rifle weren’t enough for a frontal assault on a fortified location.“We need more,” Anthony said, pulling away. “More firepower. More options.” He hesitated, then made a decision. “I have a cache. A secure one. Weapons, ammunition, explosives, money, clean passports. It’s in a storage facility near your hometown.”Going
Last Updated: 2026-01-23
Chapter: Ninety FourFlorence POV The false calm of the safehouse lasted until dawn. Angel, sedated from another dose Javier administered to keep her fever and trauma in check, lay on the narrow bed in the small back room, her breathing shallow but steady. The quiet was a fragile, precious thing. We had slept in shifts, but my sleep had been thin and haunted by the sounds of breaking glass and gunfire. Still, for a few hours, there was no pounding on the door, no shattering windows. We thought we had a moment to breathe.I was wrong.The note came in the cold, gray light of morning.Javier had left just after first light on a quick, quiet run for bottled water, basic food, and more medical supplies. He’d been gone twenty minutes. I was in the kitchenette, trying to force down a piece of dry toast, when I heard the soft, unmistakable click of the apartment’s front door closing. It wasn’t the sound of someone entering. It was the final, definite sound of it shutting.A cold finger of dread traced my spine.
Last Updated: 2026-01-23
Chapter: Ninety ThreeFlorence POV I was on my feet in an instant. Anthony was already there, his back to the wall beside the door, pistol in hand. He held up a hand, signaling me to stay still. Then, with silent, lethal grace, he slipped out a side door I hadn't even noticed.The minutes that followed were an eternity. I stood frozen in the middle of the dark garage, listening. Angel was awake too, sitting upright in her corner, watching the door.Finally, the side door opened and Anthony slipped back in. He relocked it. In the dim light, I saw a dark, wet smear on the sleeve of his jacket. Not a lot of blood, but enough. He walked to a sink in the corner and turned on the tap, washing his hands methodically. The water ran pink, then clear.He didn't speak. He didn't look at me. He just dried his hands on his pants and resumed his position by the main door, his expression unreadable.I didn't ask what happened. I didn't need to. A cold, sick understanding settled in my gut. This was the reality now. We w
Last Updated: 2026-01-23
Chapter: Ninety TwoFlorence POV.We were asleep when the first door exploded.It wasn't a knock or a kick. It was a deafening, splintering BOOM that shook the entire apartment and tore me from a shallow, troubled sleep. I sat bolt upright in the narrow bed, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped animal. My ears rang from the shock of the sound.Another crash followed immediately—the sound of the deadbolt tearing free from the frame. Heavy boots thundered in the hallway outside the apartment door. Men shouted, their voices rough and commanding in a language I didn't understand.Anthony was already a moving shadow in the dark. He grabbed my arm, his grip like iron. "Floor. Now."I didn't argue. I rolled off the mattress and onto the cold hardwood just as a staccato burst of automatic gunfire ripped through the room. TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT! Muzzle flashes lit up the darkness like violent strobe lights. Plaster erupted from the wall above the bed where my head had been seconds before. The window behind
Last Updated: 2026-01-23
Chapter: Ninety OneAnthony's Pov.When Karla discovered she was pregnant with me, her world did not light up with joy. It filled with a cold, stark terror. The child was a product of my father, a permanent chain to him. The night she told Antonia, she finally broke down completely.“I can’t,” she sobbed, the first time Antonia had ever seen her lose control. “I can’t bear it. It’s him, inside me.”Antonia held her, her own tears falling into Karla’s hair. “I hate him,” she swore, her voice shaking with a venom she’d never felt before. “I will make him pay for this.”“No,” Karla clutched at her. “Don’t you leave me. You stay. You stay with me. Promise me.”“I promise,” Antonia whispered, kissing her forehead. “I’ll always be here.”And she was. She was there through the sickness, the fear, the dark days. She talked to Karla’s growing belly, calling me her little warrior. She chose my name: Anthony, after her. “Antonia means ‘priceless,’” she told Karla. “And he will be. He will be everything we never had
Last Updated: 2026-01-23
Chapter: Ninety(FLASHBACK: ANTHONY’S STORY)My mother’s name was Karla. She came from old money, the kind that valued discretion over everything. Her marriage to my father, Alistair St. Louis, was the front page of every society section. A merger of empires. No one asked if they loved each other. It wasn’t relevant.Karla was an artist. Her world was one of color and light, trapped in a gilded cage of expectations. She was quiet, observant, and possessed a stillness that people mistook for passivity.My father was a businessman, heir to a sprawling corporate legacy. He was also a man who believed everything, including people, were assets to be acquired. His most public acquisition was Karla. His most private was a woman named Antonia.Antonia was everything Karla was not—fiery, outspoken, from a flashy new-money family that scandalized the old guard. She was my father’s mistress for two years before the wedding, and he had no intention of letting her go after it. He enjoyed the thrill. The refined,
Last Updated: 2026-01-23
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