Sex With The Billionaire Boss Mga Nobela at Kwento

“well he has his darkside…. which surpasses his bright side by a very large margin…I would take my chances, what’s life without a little mix of bad Romance, make danger He is tall afterall, Goodlooking, smells heavenly, Plus he’s the major factor that determines how fat my pay cheque would be So yes to his advances, yes to my upheaval” I honestly did not see how wrong that statement was but all that mattered was that I was winning! Atleast for once. “determine your pay cheque?!...don’t tell me, he’d offered you a job, I mean a real-real Job? With the protocols the pays and the whole shebang, right?“

the manager replied before excusing himself. “Gemma…” Lilly was the first to speak. “Who exactly are you?” “I was literally about to ask the same question,” another person immediately added. “No, seriously,” someone else said excitedly. “You got your ex-husband blacklisted from one of the most expensive restaurants in New York!” “You’re secretly some kind of billionaire, aren’t you?” “Did you buy this restaurant?” That one caught me so off guard that I laughed. “I’m sorry to disappoint everyone,” I said honestly, “but I’m just as confused as all of you are.”

Ciel’s POV “You all are animals! I fuckin ha–” She went quiet all of a sudden and I snuck a glance at her only to find out that the little minx was fast asleep. Hmm interesting. So she was mad that I had gone out for a bit of fun when I was just running late from a meeting with that damned club owner. The car phone buzzed and I picked it up, eyes still on the road. “Boss.” “Yes?” “It turns out that Madam was with Miss Roxanne tonight and they had a few drinks in the hotel bar, went out and back into the hotel again.”

But he seemed to be in a hurry and I didn’t want to burden him. Either way, I’m never going to agree to the contract. Sex with him is amazing, I must admit, but I can’t do contracts. I’m down for sex anytime he wants and it doesn’t change the relationship between us. We’re still boss-employee, or. . . whatever we were before, just, you know. With sex and blowjobs. I feel excitement bubble in me as I drag my suitcase to the elevator. I press the third floor button and wait. As I wait, I hear footsteps. Sharp, fast—definitely dress shoes, but not high heels.

The biggest, sexiest one, with the sad, dark gray-blue pupils, short golden-brown hair, and masculine chiseled jaw, has been staring at me since I started singing. I open my shirt even more as I approach him and boldly put my hand on his chest. He smells fantastic. The beast inside me roars, roaring, craving something primal, something carnal. "Bail on your stripper routine. Come back and have a one-night stand with me right now." One of the other businessmen strippers gasped, but my guy gave him a stony look. I fisted the handsome stripper's expensive-looking tie. "I need to forget. I'll give you five hundred dollars to come with me and make me forget everything."

I stare into his soul, my lips parts as I gasp with each thrust. With a gripping feeling, both of us reach orgasm at the same time. His dick is pulsating in me as I feel his warm load being poured into me. Once he is done, he stands up, pull out his dick and puts it back in his pants. That's when reality falls on me with a chill. I've just had sex with my boss. “How fertile are you?” He asked me. “What?” “Are you deaf, Miss Wayne? What's your monthly circle like?” He buckles back his belt.

If anything, I craved more, the addiction setting in deep. Slipping into one of his shirts—oversized, crisp white cotton smelling like him, the hem barely skimming my thighs—I padded barefoot toward the kitchen. The penthouse was a marvel: sleek marble floors cool under my feet, modern art on the walls that probably cost more than my annual salary, and that view—endless skyline, a testament to his power. There he was, in nothing but low-slung gray sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips, revealing the V of muscle that made my mouth water. Alexander Voss, billionaire tyrant, making breakfast like it was the most normal thing in the world. His back was to me, broad shoulders flexing a

“So, you are good-looking, prim and proper in your suit and tie. You were attracted to me, so was I to you. We had sex. Lots of it, and it was good. So what? It's in the past. It wouldn't happen again, ever. I'm going to come into work, do my job, and as my boss, you sign my paychecks. Other than that, you don't exist for me, and I don't exist for you. Whatever we had, it's over so I'll be working this job. It shouldn't be so hard to cooperate since we are both adults. I stopped talking and noticed how heavy my breathing was. I also realised his eyes were still burning into mine. It was obvious he was still angry, but there was also something else there, something I couldn't recognise becaus

Stephano’s hands curled into fists on the table. I leaned forward, my grin sharp. “And believe me, Joe is good. He’ll stitch together the nights, the meetings, every time you so much as breathed in the same room as Stephano. It won’t take him long to figure out you’ve been fucking your boss. And voila, the headline writes itself: "Assistant knocked up by billionaire playboy.” Camilla’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. Stephano’s glare turned lethal, but his silence told me I had him by the throat.

The man who had requested Valentino Enterprise to arrange a model exchange. His eyes cast a glance over Lance through his pupils. His expression was cold and emotionless as he heard the words. “And you want me to be hunted by those fucking paparazzi, ruining my reputation? I’d rather my wife be dead than cheat on me!” he snapped sharply, making Lance shut his mouth. His eyes stared at Ace with an expression that was hard to decipher. Leaning back comfortably, he kept on glancing at Sierra and Richard, who looked so close. “This is the file we’re going to discuss, boss!” Rosalie’s voice pulled Sierra’s attention. She frowned and narrowed her eyes as she spotted her husband in the meeting room