Billy Hargrove X Reader Novels & Stories

He read it. He read it with the particular and specific quality of a man reading something that requires a fraction of a second to process, not because the words were complex but because the specific and particular reality of them needed a moment to become real, to transition from language on a screen to a fact with weight and dimension and the full specific gravity of something that was actually happening. Hargrove was saying something about the Q3 projections. Julian stood up.

My release hit like a tornado, ripping through me “Ahh… ahhh ahhhh… oh God… ahhh…” I screamed, hips bucking against his face. He kept sucking, tongue working me through every wave, drawing it out until I was trembling and gasping

“That’s not even close to my mouth.” Ryan’s voice was warm, patient. “Open wider then. I’m trying to be romantic here.” Another small laugh. The quiet clink of a spoon against a cup. I closed my eyes. The door opened. Footsteps. Polished shoes on tile. “Ms. Chloe?” A beat of silence. “Yes?” Chloe’s tone sharpened. Wary. “Daniel Hargrove. I represent Mr. Alexander Knight.” Ryan’s chair scraped back. “What the hell is this?”