The Billionaire From Her Worst Night
She once humiliated herself by falling for him. She was set up which led her to his bed and she ended up in a situation she couldn’t even explain.
Now, she was pinned against the wall in his office, her hands held above her head. Her back arched slightly, her body betraying her, while the city view stretched out beside them like nothing unusual was happening.
“Sir...” The rest of her words dissolved into a gasp as she felt his hand slide beneath her skirt. She regretted wearing a skirt. It had already been pushed up, revealing far more than she was comfortable with.
Even with one hand restraining hers, he still has his fingers teasing her slick entrance through soaked lace. She couldn't describe how embarrassed she felt in that particular moment.
He smirked and leaned toward her ear “I should hate you,” he whispered “but ever since I saw you naked, I’ve been obsessed. I want to screw you so hard you forget everything in the world, but how deep I can bury myself inside you until you’re screaming for more.”
She took a deep breath. “This is wrong, Mr…” She swallowed hard. "Please… I still want to live...ahh… boss…” Her protest broke into a soft moan as his touch deepened and slowed like he was enjoying every second of her losing control.
“Damn…” she gritted out, trying to keep her voice down, afraid someone might hear them through the door.
“You’re still pretending?” he chuckled softly, clearly amused, his movements unhurried but intentional.
“My king… please…” she finally said what he had been wanting to hear. She had always been too proud to accept it. They used to hate each other.
But could hate really turn into something this intense… this uncontrollable?