Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 134961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 675(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 675(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
But despite that, she still followed my lead.
I exhale sharply, forcing my gaze out the window, watching as we pull up in front of my hotel.
It feels strange, heading back here instead of staying at the Moreau estate. My home. But my life doesn’t fit there right now. The hotel is where my team is, where the schedule is locked in, where my days are planned to the minute.
Where I keep my discipline intact.
I step out of the car, giving a brief nod to the doorman before heading inside, my mind still running in circles. A few lingering guests throw glances my way as I make my way to the elevator, hushed whispers that I pointedly ignore.
I don’t have time for it. Not tonight.
The second I enter my suite, I start stripping off my shirt, tossing my keys onto the counter, rolling my neck to relieve the tension creeping down my spine. The place is pristine: cool, crisp linens, floor-to-ceiling windows offering an uninterrupted view of the city.
It has everything I need.
So why the hell do I feel so restless?
I should go to sleep. Let the exhaustion pull me under, push everything else from my mind.
But I can still see her. I can still feel her.
That slight hitch in her breath when I pulled her in. The way her fingers twitched against my shoulder before she caught herself. The way her lips parted, just for a second.
I swear I can still hear her voice.
"You really love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?"
I smirk slightly, shaking my head as I head toward the bathroom, unbuttoning my trousers, stepping out of them as I turn on the shower. She knows who I am now - I have her friends to thank for that - but it certainly didn’t change anything about the way she spoke to me, the way she behaved around me.
The moment the water hits my skin, I let out a slow exhale, rolling my shoulders, willing the tension away.
But it doesn’t leave.
She doesn’t leave.
I see the way she looked up at me, bright eyes flashing with irritation and something else she refused to name.
I remember the way her body felt under my hands. All soft, small and warm -
And mine, for just a second.
I grit my teeth, fingers flexing against the wet tile.
I don’t do this.
I don’t let myself get distracted. I don’t chase after women.
And I certainly don’t get obsessed.
And yet…
I inhale sharply, tilting my head back as the steaming water cascades over my skin, my free hand dragging through my wet hair as frustration burns through me.
I can still feel her.
The way she moved in my arms, the tension coiled in her muscles, resisting me just for the sake of resisting - like it was instinct, like she couldn’t help but challenge me at every turn.
Like she knew exactly what she was doing to me.
Fuck.
I let my hand drift lower, dragging it over the already rock-hard length of my cock. I grip myself tightly, and my body tenses. My breath hisses through clenched teeth as the image of her flashes behind my closed eyes.
Just once. Just to get it out of my system.
To get her out of my system.
My rhythm is rough but controlled, my jaw locked as I stroke myself to the thought of her.
She’d fight it at first. That’s what she does.
She’d narrow those sharp eyes, tilt her chin up at me like she thinks she’s calling the shots, like she’s got any control when it comes to this.
She’d glare. Push back.
She’d roll her eyes and act like she’s above it. Like she’s above me.
And then -
Then she’d fucking melt. Just like she did on the dance floor.
The thought alone has my fingers tightening, my breath coming faster, chest rising and falling in sync with the image burning itself into my mind.
Her body, soft and warm, molding against me despite herself. Her breath hitching when I pulled her close.
Her lips parting, just slightly - just enough for me to know that if I pushed, just a little more, she’d let me take what I want.
She’d beg for it. Beg for me.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
My pace quickens, pressure building and pleasure twisting deep in my gut. My hips buck slightly as I fuck myself even further into my fist, imagining its her tight little pussy, all wet and ready and welcoming for me.
My teeth are clenched impossibly tightly as the tension pulls tighter, tighter -
She’d be so fucking sweet once she gave in. Once she stopped pretending she didn’t want me.
Once she realised there was no use fighting it, that I always win.
And I wouldn’t stop. Not until I ruined her for anyone else.
Not until she was mine.
The release slams into me like a punch to the gut, pleasure ripping through me so hard that a deep groan rumbles low in my chest, my body stiffening against the tiled wall.