Rori Vanderbilt was no longer the spoiled, untouchable heiress who teased her bodyguard for four years. She was addicted. Two days after her parents returned from Europe, the ache between her legs hadn’t faded. Every time she moved, she remembered Damien stretching her pussy in her bedroom, filling her ass in the shower, breeding her on the kitchen counter during that wild ownership weekend. His cum had long been washed away, but the memory of how full and owned she felt refused to leave.She needed him again.That afternoon, while her father was in his home office on an important video call, Rori found Damien in the security room reviewing footage. She locked the door behind her, wearing only a tiny tennis skirt and a cropped tank top with no bra.Damien raised an eyebrow. “You’re playing a dangerous game, princess.”“I don’t care,” she whispered, walking straight to him and dropping to her knees between his spread legs. “I need you, Sir. I’ve been dripping all day thinking abou
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