LOGINMy secretary was deep throating me and clamping so hard, I knew she wanted me to finish quickly. It was almost noon, I had a meeting in five minutes, and… she was a really good secretary.
I shuddered. She swallowed. My head was tilted back as I swallowed air into my lungs; not because I was ecstatic, but because a different face and mouth were in my mind’s eye, and I didn't want to sully it.
I exhaled, pulling my pants up and standing straight, as I pushed off the edge of my desk. My secretary got off her knees, wiping her lips, picking up the folder she had come in with for my signature.
She glanced back, sultry, as she headed to the door. I winked at her. She smiled and swayed her slender hips out, leaving my door open.
I went to my private bathroom to clean up. I pulled out my still hard cock and stared at it. I glanced up at my reflection in the mirror over the gold-trimmed sink surrounded by various grooming and cleaning products, and a few other special items, but those were in the drawer or cupboard.
My dick was hardening as I watched myself. My heart rate was picking up, and my chest was constricting as two polar emotions pulled at me at the same time.
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I had been out of the country for years. Working on my father’s empire, securing my place as the new leader.
I had gone everywhere, Europe, Asia, and I had grown my personal operations. Checking on my clients, my suppliers, visiting black markets that I ran or played in, nurturing my contacts.
I had returned last year to reintegrate myself into the city.
And then, like a gift from the heavens, if there is such a thing, my father mentioned the lead prospect for that fucking mausoleum he and his generation of friends want to build. I didn’t believe my ears.
When he said the name of the person he was negotiating with, my heart skipped. Literarily skipped. A feat not achieved in years.
I hadn’t heard the name ‘Jayden Malroy’ in over a decade, but once my father said it, I saw his face. Those amber eyes, those full lips that didn’t look like they belonged on a man, that deep voice that turned into something so light, so sweet, when you pushed him to the hilt.
I had shuddered at the force of the memory.
Then, I had dug into it, confirmed everything, and waited.
I knew that if I showed myself too soon, he would run. Jade was a runner, and I had always loved the chase. The little nudges I had to give, the light persuasions I had to whisper in his shell-like ears, then, the harder pressure I had to apply, up till he folded, bent, and bowed at my feet.
I had forgotten too many things, from back then, when I had tossed him away. Far too many things.
It had taken almost a year before I had realized what was missing from the parties, the club scenes, and the orgies I organized and attended, in equal measure.
That soft, yet large, delicate, yet muscular, well-toned ass. Those tight abs, that strong back, firm neck, legs, and arms of someone I had both taught and learned things from, with my own hands.
My muse. My personal test kit and canvas.
My creation.
I had molded him, transformed him, made him the most sought-after piece of ass in my circle.
A former athlete, he was strong; he could take things most others couldn't. A good boy at heart and deep in his soul, he had been obedient. So fucking compliant.
A middle child, he needed attention, care. I gave all that to him, and more. But he had wanted me to be gentle, attentive, and to be present when we fucked.
If I had wanted such shit, he would have been my boyfriend. Sure, I had let him believe he was, for a time, and that had been its own type of fun, but I was not made for soft shit.
He should have known that.
I pushed him, little things at first, then things I myself wouldn't do. And he did them. For me.
I was his god, and I loved that feeling. Some random fuck had become my reason for waking up in the morning.
But he had wanted his prayers answered; prayers of love, affection, care, but I wasn't that type of deity.
I threw him away, expecting him to come crawling back on his knees, ready to submit, to play the exact role I had given him. But he had vanished and I had dismissed him, only to miss him, but by then it was too late.
Even his family did not know where he was. His drug addict brother, the one who had given me my favorite plaything as payment for what he owed that he could no longer come up with the cash for his habit, was useless in giving me any information.
I abandoned him, too. The kid brother had been better than the elder one in every possible way.
To me, every time I fucked him, he was simply being his brother’s ATM. Until I had slipped up and fallen into that worship he fed me.
Until I twisted into something I could not have imagined. I was hooked on his need for me. And I hated him for it. Punished him for it; while sinking deeper every time I pulled him under.
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I was fully erect. My secretary had done quality work; she was not the problem. Jayden, fucking Malroy was.
Those soft, brown eyes of his never failed to flip a switch inside me, especially when they were begging. Begging me to stop fucking him so hard, begging me to stop my friends from fucking him, double-teaming him from both holes while I watched.
And when he cried…when his tears spilled…
“Ungh!” I cried out, without reservation.
My bathroom was not only private, it was large and secure. A gun could go off in here, and no one would know.
I gasped as I held a second spill from my throbbing member in my hand.
How or when I had grabbed my dick and worked myself to coming a second time in under three minutes, I didn't know.
But those two emotions were threatening to rip me apart.
Passion, and hate.
I stared at my reflection. At my lightly perspiring face as I fought to control the tremors in my body.
“Jayden,” I murmured. “You’ve gone round the world and come right back into my arms, where you belong.”
My chest filled as I reflected on the man I had seen just a few hours ago.
“I’ve missed you, my crown jewel. My Jade,” I whispered to his image in my mind.
I had found replacements after I had finally gotten him to leave. Finally gotten rid of a guy who pulled at my heart and mind in ways that vexed me. Vexed me so much that I almost killed him with my tests, with my urges. Urges he had driven me to.
But none had been his match. Not a single one.
“I won’t make any mistakes this time, my pet. I promise. I’ll keep you close this time. I won’t let you go,” I breathed into the silence.
I swallowed.“Adrian Sinclair,” my father rumbled, a smile on his lips. “Is my sugar level more important than what you’ve just told me?”My lips parted. My throat was dry again, but the drink was really too sweet.I turned, glancing behind us. There was no one there.I stood. “One second,” I said to my father and rushed into the house.I headed directly to the kitchen. I got a bottle of water from the fridge and a fresh glass. I picked up a tray, and the maid added a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice, glancing apologetically at me.I nodded to her and took everything out to the warm conservatory.Liam was nowhere in sight.My father was standing, leaning on his walking stick, when I got back.“Dad.”He turned; he raised his chin, his lips curved up as his eyes went to the tray.I placed it down, and he pointed at the water.I poured him a glass and handed it to him.He drank it all dow
Rina had unearthed a lot from Leon’s office files.It turned out that Leon, and those he worked with, were not simple criminals. They were the underground of the underground.We had found out that Leon Ralis was not involved in a singular arena of crime; he was a syndicate unto himself, and he didn’t run in local circles. The man was an international illicit business owner, trafficker, and fence.Even if he were to be arrested, there were not enough courts in the country to process his dealings in one sitting. He would not only have to face local jurisdictions across state lines; he would have to stand before international courts for cross-border crimes.The man was not only involved in human trafficking, but he was also a broker for high-value stolen properties, from ancient artifacts to modern artwork, jewelry, and tech.Leon had billions, with funds in not only currencies but also in commodities. He had safe deposit boxes all over the country an
“I was on the floor, folded. My robe around me.”His arms were around his frame. His eyes were wide. He was not with me.“I sat there. Five, ten minutes. I wasn’t sure. But the noise died down, and the door opened.”He stopped. Staring. At nothing, though he was facing me.“The man… Jayden Malroy… walked over to me and squatted. His face. His clothes, his hands, were covered in blood.”“He blinked. His eyes fixed on mine. ‘If you want to say no, kid. Just say no,’ he said, his voice like cool water, ‘and if they don’t listen,’ he pulled a card out of his pocket, ‘call this number.’”Dexter shook his head slowly. “I took the card from him. I don’t know how I managed to, but it did. He stood and left.”“I finally got off the floor after staff of the club arrived and went to the room I had been in. I peeped inside.”He shook his head.“It was a massacre. How nobody died, I would never know. It only told me, later, when I co
“He invited me everywhere, and I went anywhere, anytime he called. I didn’t have guards then. It was me, my bank card, my phone, and the open road.”“I had just graduated from college. I was doing that taking-a-year thing to find myself.” He gave a short laugh.It sounded like how a slap would feel.“I was free. So, I did what free people with means did.”He sat back, his gaze distant.“Two, maybe three weeks into keeping up with him, we were at a strip club. He asked me to dance for him. It wouldn’t be the first time. I did it, freely, like I had more than once.”He shrugged.“He praised me, as he always did. Then…,” he slowed, his eyes darting left and right. He closed his eyes and inhaled.“He asked me to dance for his friend. An older guy. I had seen him before; we, the three of us, had hung out maybe twice, but I didn’t have that kind of relationship with the man.”“The older guy laughed it off when he saw my face,
I glanced up at him. I sniffed. In that moment, I felt it: my nose was spilling; my eyes were burning. My head was banging.“Oh, god!” I gasped, stepping back.My hand slapped over my nose and mouth, and I pulled it back, staring at my slick palm.“How…,” I breathed.I moved to the sink and spent a full minute with my face under the rushing tap.I blew my nose, rinsed my eyes, my mouth, even splashed the back of my neck.A towel was on my left shoulder at this point.I stood and turned.He was still there. Still in a place he didn’t want to be.For me.I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t bear it. The light from his halo was starting to blind me.“Eat something,” he was saying, moving me to the kitchen table. The food he had made was laid out: omelets, ham, toast, baked beans, along with a carton of juice.Two places had been set. I was dying.It was the slowest meal I had ever had. I didn’t loo
Vega was right. Of course he was. He always was. It was why I had kept him for so long. That and the fact that he wasn’t scared of me.Just like Clementine.Except I didn’t fuck Vega. Never had. Probably never would. Probably.I loved my freedom. I loved coming and going wherever I pleased, whenever I chose. If I made myself an administrator, a director in any part of the wide network I operated in, people would have expectations. Targets, other than the ones I already had, would be on my back. I didn’t want that. Never did.But I was not twenty-five any longer. I had to think about my future.All the happenings in the current days, with the losses and robberies that were happening in my arena, had begun to make me think about what I would have done if I had lost my investment the way my clients had.What I would have done to correct the situation and who I would punish along the way.It had excited me. That power. That authority.







