FAZER LOGINThick, 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. “It won’t fit… it’s too thick, too long… it feels like it’s fighting me. I can’t even get half of it in my mouth.” “Try harder,” he growled, fingers tangling tight in her hair, yanking her face closer. “Suck it deeper. Take all of it. And tell me does it feel better than all those little pricks you’ve had before? Huh? Tell me how fucking big I am compared to them.” She tried again, opening her jaw as wide as it would go. Her lips stretched thin and burning around his thick length, her tongue swirling fast and hot over the swollen, sensitive head, tasting salt and heat. The rest of him throbbed heavy and hard against her cheek, pushing further, stretching her until her eyes watered. She moaned loud around him, the sound vibrating through his cock, then pulled back gasping, chest heaving. “So big…” she gasped, eyes glassy and hazy. “It feels like it’s gonna split me open… but I want it. I want all of it. Even if it hurts.” “Stand up,” he ordered. She stumbled to her feet, and he pulled her straight against him, crashing his mouth to hers, hot, ravenous, claiming every gasp she made. He kissed her like he meant to burn her alive, his hands roaming fast and rough over every curve, squeezing her breasts, dragging down her sides. Then he grabbed the hem of her dress and ripped it clean down the middle buttons popping and scattering across the floor. He tore away her bra and panties next, tossing them aside like trash. She stood naked before him, trembling, every soft inch of her exposed, pale skin, full hips, breasts heavy and hardening, the dark wet glisten between her legs. He stripped off his own clothes, and stood there huge and throbbing, his gaze devouring every part of her like he could already taste her. “Look at you,” he growled, one hand sliding slow down her throat, over her nipples, then lower to cup her slick heat. “So beautiful… so fucking perfect for me. All mine now.” “I’m yours,” she whispered, reaching for him, knees weak. “Use me. I want to be your little fuck toy tonight.” He pushed her back onto the bed, spreading her legs wide with his knee. The thick, swollen head of his cock pressed right against her trembling entrance, knocking slow and teasing against her wet folds. “Please…” she gasped, hips lifting off the mattress, aching and desperate. “Put it in me already. I’m aching so bad. Please!” He pushed forward slow. She felt every inch of him stretching her open, burning, full, impossibly thick. She cried out, fingers digging into the sheets, as he worked his way deeper, her wetness making it slick but the size making her burn and shiver. He filled her completely, pressing so deep she thought she might break. “Fuck, you’re so tight and hot,” he gritted out, hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. “So wet… squeezing me like you never want to let go.” Then he pulled back almost all the way, and slammed forward in one brutal, hard thrust. She screamed, arching off the bed. It hit so deep it struck places she never knew existed, thick, heavy, dragging fire through every nerve. He set a rough, relentless rhythm, pounding into her over and over, hips slapping hard against hers, skin ringing loud through the room. “Tell me how it feels,” he demanded, watching her face twist with pleasure and pain. “It feels so good!” she sobbed, meeting every thrust, body wild and burning. “So deep! Don’t stop, harder! Fuck me harder, please!” He pinned her legs back wide, driving even deeper, hitting that perfect spot every single time. “You like that, baby? You like how I stretch you open? You’re taking every fucking inch of me so well.” “I am!” she cried, clinging to his shoulders. “I’ve never felt anything like this… fuck me, sir, take me like I’m yours!” He leaned down, biting and sucking her neck, her breasts, her nipples until she writhed and whined. “Is this pussy mine? Am I the only one who can make you feel this way?” “Yes—yes it’s yours! I’m your whore tonight—use me! Ravage me like you want!” He flipped her over roughly, yanking her hips up high, and drove back into her with a guttural roar. It hit deeper still, harder, tearing a loud, broken moan from her throat. He pounded into her from behind, one hand tangled in her hair, the other gripping her waist, pulling her back hard onto every thrust. “Look how wet you are for me,” he growled, slapping her dripping heat. “Dripping all over my cock… begging for more.” Then he pulled out and shoved her face down, pressing her hips up. He spread her open with his fingers, leaned down, and buried his face between her legs. She screamed loud, body jerking off the mattress. His tongue was hot, rough, eating her like he was starving, licking slow and hard up her slit, circling her clit fast and merciless, sucking it into his mouth until she shook and cried out. He dragged his tongue deep inside her, tasting every drop, lapping at her like she was the sweetest thing he’d ever had. He bit and sucked and licked, one hand spreading her wider, the other rubbing her clit fast while he feasted on her until she was sobbing, shaking, ready to fall apart. “Eat me… oh god eat me like that!” she screamed, hands fisting the sheets. “Don’t stop—please don’t stop! I’m gonna cum!” He didn’t stop. He licked harder, deeper, sucking her clit hard and fast, until her whole body locked up and she shattered, gushing all over his face, shaking so hard the bed shook with her. He let her ride every wave, then rose up, grabbed his cock, and shoved it back inside her wet, trembling hole. He pounded into her harder than before, rough and wild, dragging her back onto him with every stroke. “I’m so close!” she whimpered, legs shaking, every nerve on fire. “Don’t slow down, keep going! Make me cum all over you!” “Cum for me then,” he growled, slamming deep. “Cum all over my big cock. Show me how much you love it.” She screamed as she came again, body clamping tight around him, shaking and sobbing. He drove into her one last time, groaning loud, and buried himself as deep as he could go, spilling everything he had hot and heavy inside her, filling her completely, claiming her right to the very end.“Bitch.”The word hit her so suddenly that Ysa's entire body stiffened.What the hell?She turned sharply toward the doorway.A man stood there, one shoulder against the frame, watching her with an expression that made the air in the room feel different.Lourd Alexander Grayson.Hayes's cousin.Ysa had seen him at the Grayson mansion. Only briefly, barely long enough for an introduction, but she remembered him. There was something about him that made her uncomfortable even before he opened his mouth.“What are you doing here?” she asked.His eyebrow lifted. “Oh, what are you doing here?” he shot back.Ysa's jaw tightened. “I'm Hayes's wife.”Lourd gave a short laugh.“Wife?” The way he said it made the word sound ridiculous. He pushed himself away from the door and walked toward her.“You're beautiful,” he said, looking her over without bothering to hide it. “I'll give you that. Sexy. Gorgeous. The kind of woman who can make a man forget he's supposed to have common sense.”Ysa's face
Ysa woke up at ten and nearly jumped out of bed when she saw the time on the clock. She hurried out of the guest suite, barely taking the time to fix her hair as she tried to remember what Hayes had told her last night. He had asked her to see him at eight. But eight in the morning or eight in the evening? She couldn't remember, and she was beginning to regret being too distracted by everything happening around her to ask. If he meant eight in the morning, she was already two hours late. If he meant eight in the evening, she had just panicked for absolutely no reason. But Hayes wasn't there. Ysa checked the kitchen first, then the living room, the dining area, and even the terrace, because apparently this billionaire bastard had decided to vanish after telling her to see him at eight. She checked her phone, already opening their messages to ask where the hell he was when a new message from him popped up.Board meeting ran early. Breakfast is ready. Help yourself. Back as soon as I
Ysa was shocked when she went to the kitchen and saw Hayes who stood near the stove, sleeves rolled up tight to his elbows. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, his dark hair fell a little messy over his forehead, “Right on time,” he said in his dee0 baritone voice, rough around the edges in the sexiest way. “I like that.” Ysa walked closer, her eyes were on him, unable to look away. “I didn’t picture you… doing this.” A half-smile tugged at his mouth. “People see the name Grayson and they think everything gets handed to us,” he remarked, pressing down gently with the tongs. “They don’t see the ones who still know how to do the work themselves. Ribeye steak, seared hard outside, pink and juicy inside. Garlic mashed potatoes, extra butter, heavy cream. Roasted tomatoes, green beans tossed in lemon and olive oil. That’s what’s on the menu. That’s our dinner.” He flipped the steaks over, the juices glistening deep red-brown, and didn’t look at her as he spoke next. “G
“What are you doing here?” she was feeling nervous. Her pulse kicked hard, hammering against her ribs like it might break through. Her hands clutching her jacket tight, and for one wild, breathless second she thought... he knows about Dior. Hayes stood there by the open car door, the afternoon light gilding the edges of him, his face is serious. “I have an appointment,” he said evenly. “With my doctor.” “Your doctor?” she doesn't believe him. He has money. He has power. Finding what she hides for Hayes is just a piece of cake. “Breathing condition. Had it since I was small.” He cleared his throat. “Comes and goes. I put it off too long. Finally went in.” He wasn’t here for her. He hadn’t followed. She let her hands fall loose at her sides. She gave a sigh. “I… I didn’t know.” “Most people don’t.” He closed the car door behind him, nodded toward the passenger side. “Get in. We’re going to Maison d’Aurore. We need to talk." She blinked. “To where?” “Maison d’Aurore.”
“I made it worse, Ysa.” Her mom’s voice breaks, tears spilling over. “When you said you were dropping out of college because of your Daddy situation... Tjen, git pregnant. I got angry. I said things. Things I shouldn’t have said. I told you you were throwing your life away. I told you you’d regret it. I told you —” She chokes on the words. “I told you he was a mistake. And I was wrong. I was so wrong.”“Ma —”“I should have held you.” She’s crying now. “I should have said I’m here. We’ll get through this. Instead I yelled. Instead I made you feel like you had something to be ashamed of. Like he was something to be ashamed of. And I’ve carried that guilt every single day. Every time I look at him… every time I see how hard you work… how much you sacrifice… I remember what I said. And I hate myself for it.”“Ma, don’t —”“I’m sorry.” She reaches out, cups Ysa’s face in both hands. “I am so, so sorry. I’m sorry I asked you to stop your education. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you better. Th
“Dior, baby.”Her voice softens the second it leaves her mouth, like she’s afraid anything louder might break him. She steps through the doorway, and the breath rushes out of her all at once.It was seven in the morning when she left the Penthouse. Hayes was still sleeping. She left a note telling him she has an important appointment. But the truth, she went straight to the St. Jude Hospital to visit Dior.He’s sitting up in the bed, pillows stacked behind him, a box of crayons spilled across the sheets. His cheeks are pink. His eyes are clear bright, no glassy fever-glaze blurring them. He lifts his head when she speaks, and his whole face lights up.“Mommy!”She crosses the room and sits on the edge of the mattress. "You are drawing and coloring. You’re so strong now.”“Grandma said the medicine works.” He holds up a blue crayon. “My chest doesn’t hurt anymore, but the doctor said I have to stay here a little longer.”Ysa presses her palm to his forehead. He has now a normal tempera







