Married To My Richest Client

Thick, heavy, throbbing hard and angry, standing proud like it was fighting to be free. Nothing like the small, disappointing men she’d been with before, nothing even close. It was so big it slapped heavy against her cheek, and suddenly she wanted to run, to give the money back, to say she couldn’t… but she couldn’t look away.“Fuck…” she breathed, eyes wide and glassy. “So big… way too big.”He smirked, dark and hungry. “Then you better learn to take it, baby.”She leaned in slow, lips brushing the swollen, glistening tip first. It twitched right against her mouth, like it was pushing back, fighting her. She kissed the head soft, then ran her tongue slow over the salty drop beading at the slit, making him hiss and grip her hair tight. She wrapped her lips around it as far as she could go… and it barely fit. It stretched her jaw wide, heavy and hard, and she pulled back gasping, chest heaving.“It’s too much…” she whined, looking up at him wet and dazed, her lips swollen and shiny. “I

The streetlights were flickering on when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, half-expecting it to be the hospital, or the doctor, or bad news.It was Elena.Her thumb hovered over the screen. Elena. The only friend she’d ever had from that life. The one who was still in it. Still there, every night, same way of surviving. She hadn’t spoken to her in two years. Not since she’d walked away. Not since she’d told herself she was done.She answered. “Hello?”“Ysa?” Elena’s voice was loud, music thumping faint in the background, like she was already there. “Shit. Is that really you? I thought I’d never hear from you again.”“Elena.” She leaned against the wall, eyes closing for a second. “Hi. Yeah. It’s me.”“Girl, where you been? You vanished. Everyone asking. You got a new life now? Some rich guy swept you off your feet?” Elena laughed, but it sounded tired. Like she’d said that same line a hundred times to a hundred different girls who left and never came back.Ysa swallow

Sixty thousand pesos. Due today. Pay the amount by midnight, or we release him. Ysa read that line again and again. The three days the doctor had given her were gone, slipping through her fingers like everything else.She bent down, grabbed the phone, and dialed Elena’s number before she could talk herself out of it. Before she could remember every promise she’d made to herself, every time she’d sworn she’d never go back to that fucking life, never let another man touch her like she was nothing but a warm hole to fill.Elena picked up on the third ring, voice sharp and bored. “Ysa?”“I need work.” Ysa’s voice broke. “Tonight. Right now. I don’t care what it is. Just… get me something good. Something that pays.”A pause. Then Elena sighed loudly. "Are you sure? Ysa waits. Have you think it through?" She paused and continue. "But, I got you. I’ll find you the best client in the building tonight. Rich. Clean. Generous. Don’t make me regret this. Be here in forty minutes. And Ysa? Dress

“Tell me something.” He pulled back just enough to look in her eyes, his gaze burning, intense. “Did you think about me? Even once? In three years?”“Every day.” The confession slipped out before she could stop it, quiet and raw and true.He groaned, low in his throat, and then his mouth was on hers—hard, hungry, desperate, like he was starving for it, like he was trying to consume her whole. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was rough and hot and messy, his tongue pushing past her lips, his hands roaming over her body like he needed to touch every inch of her all at once. He walked her backward until her back hit the wall, pressing himself against her, and she melted into him, forgetting everything, the club, the money, Dior, the hospital, everything but him.His hands were everywhere up her thighs, under her dress, cupping her breasts, his fingers rough and sure, making her gasp into his mouth, making her arch against him. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him close

“Marry you?” The laugh that tore out of her was sharp, bitter, shaking. “Are you fucking kidding me?”She stepped forward, every ounce of fear burning away into rage, into the raw, unapologetic fire of who she’d had to be to survive.“I am Ysabelle Sandoval.” She said it like challenge. “Princess of fucking prostitutes. That’s what I am. That’s what you came looking for. And you want to marry me?”She leaned in, eyes blazing, letting every ugly truth hang between them. “You know exactly who I am. You know exactly what I do. Because three years ago, you fucked me. And then you paid me. Like everyone else. Like I was nothing. So don’t stand there talking about marriage like it’s some fucking fairy tale.”He didn’t flinch. Didn’t step back. Just watched her, his jaw set tight, his eyes dark and stormy, like her words didn’t even scratch the surface of what he was about to say.“I didn’t say marry me like that.” His voice was low, yet cutting through her anger like a blade. “I didn’t say