Novels by akpanlecha

Scott’s POVI sat on my chair like a fucking sex slave waiting to be punished by his master. I sat there staring at the same email for the tenth time, heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my sore ass. Elliot Travis. CEO. I could bet with my life, he is the same man who had me bent over nights ago, choking me while he bred me deep like he owned every inch of my body.Or could I be wrong?I rubbed my eyes, trying to convince myself I wasn’t losing it. Maybe there were two Elliot Travis in Brooklyn. Maybe the quiet, intense guy from the party who fucked me raw twice was just some regular hot stranger with the same name and same steel-gray eyes. Yeah, right. I couldn't even buy that bullshit.I’d spent the whole day jumping every time someone said “Mr. Travis.” Every meeting, every email signature made my cock twitch. He’d looked me dead in the eyes in that office and pretended I was nothing. Two nights ago he’d railed me like a beast.What kind of man does that?I glanced at the c

Elliot’s POVMy office door clicked shut behind the last executive that walked out but the silence didn’t bring peace. It brought him. His memory.Scott McAllen.I stood by the window overlooking Brooklyn’s beautiful view . My cock was still half-hard from the meeting. Three days of telling myself he was just another warm hole. From one night, to the second night and now this. The Ghost never broke the rule. I never repeated dicks. I never let anyone close enough to see the beast underneath the cold CEO mask.Yet here I was, pulse hammering like a fucking teenager because of one bold, artist who looked at me like he could see straight through my bullshit.“Fuck,” I growled, dragging a hand through my hair. The tattoos on my chest itched under my shirt, reminding me who I really was when the suits came off. A man who craved cock. Who needed control. Who got off on choking pretty boys while breeding them deep until they cried my name.And Scott? He didn’t just take it. He challenged me.

Elliot’s POVIt’s seventy-two fucking hours since I walked out of that hotel room with Scott’s taste still on my tongue and his cum-stained moans echoing in my head. I sat at the head of the long mahogany table in my top-floor office, fingers drumming silently on the armrest while executives droned on about quarterly art acquisitions. Scott McAllen.That bold, expressive artist with the hazel eyes that talks too much. The way he’d challenged me both nights “Sneaking out again?” still burned. No one talked to me like that. No one got under my skin like that. I never repeated partners. Never. The “Ghost” didn’t do seconds, let alone thirds. One raw, breeding fuck and disappear. That was the rule. The only way to stay safe after what my father drilled into me as a teenager.Yet here I was, rock-hard under the table just remembering how tight Scott felt clenching around my cock while I choked him and pumped him full.“Mr. Travis?” One executive waited for my input on the latest batch of

Scott’s POVMy ass burned with every frantic step I took hurrying up for my interview. Each movement reminded me exactly how hard that mystery man had fucked me raw the night before. His Cum still leaked out of me despite the quick shower, soaking into my cheap boxer. My neck and thighs carried his teeth marks like badges I couldn’t hide. I’m late. Twenty fucking minutes late.“Shit, shit, shit!” I muttered. Jayden had pulled strings for this interview at the biggest art academy in the city. If I blew it because of some hot stranger I met last night, I’d never forgive myself. But damn… that man had made me feel alive. Wanted. For a few hours, the mountain of debt and my dead mom’s hospital bills didn’t bother me.As I got to Zenex Tower. The receptionist, a woman in her forties, glanced up.“Scott McAllen. I have an interview for the Academy program,” I panted, putting on my best charming smile even though I was sweating and probably smelled like sperm.She checked her tablet. “You’r

Scott’s POVI never planned for my CEO to be my one night stand but I will not pretend that I haven’t fantasized fucking my boss. That sounds crazy right?? Well everyone’s got crazy fantasies, I just didn’t know mine would become my reality.A man who I’d beg to fuck me again even with my hole still leaking with his cum. I’m just twenty-seven, I should’ve had my shit together, but life had a nasty habit of kicking me in my balls every time I stood up. I had debts piled up to clear, a painting I am struggling to sell and here I am drinking my sadness away. “Another one?” the bartender asked, already reaching for the bottle.I shook my head. “Nah, I’m good.” My body needed a cock not a drink, I was damn horny, frustrated and tired of feeling empty. I’d slept with a couple guys for cash before when things got really bad, but tonight I just wanted to have fun. Wanted hands on me. A cock or pussy to fuck me mercilessly but preferably a cock. Then I remembered the text from earlier: Un