Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
My eyes roll in the back of my head, and I blow out a breath as I try to find some semblance of control. I won’t find it though. I’m too far gone.
Only two levels to go.
“Everything alright, Mr. Di Rozé?” a voice asks from across the elevator. “You look . . . unwell.”
I force a smile across my face as I glance to the other side of the elevator, finding my CFO’s personal assistant, Sarah, almost shaking at the thought of having spoken directly to me. “Yes, Sarah. Just fine, thank you.”
Her eyes practically bulge out of her head. “Oh shit. He knows my name,” she mutters, before gaping and realizing she said that out loud. “Ahhh fuck. That’s embarrassing. Can we uhh—”
“Pretend that didn’t happen?”
“Yes please,” she practically squeaks.
I almost laugh. There are women like this at Vixen. Beautiful, young women in their early twenties who generally end up playing a submissive role. They’re shy and don’t have the courage to ask for what they want, and while I’ve been known to enjoy a submissive woman from time to time, I prefer the ones who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty, who demand what they want and take it with both hands. A woman just like Tilly.
I nod, and as the elevator opens on the top floor, Sarah scurries out of it, all but sprinting away as she turns to the right and disappears down the hall. Then with my cock painfully straining in my pants, I step out of the elevator and head to the left, aiming for the one door on this side, the one with my name. CEO, CAESAR DI ROZÉ.
“Morning, Caesar,” my secretary, Margaret, says as I fly past her. “Coffee is on your desk and the Ellis file is prepped and ready for review. Shall I bring it in?”
“Just give me ten minutes,” I tell her.
Margaret nods and gets straight back to work. It’s not unusual for me to step into my office, close the door, and forget about the outside world until it’s time to leave, and for the most part, Margaret tends to leave me alone. She’s been with me right from the start, and at this point in my career, she’s basically my right hand. I wouldn’t remember to eat if I didn’t have her.
I all but race into my office, closing the door behind me before flicking the lock, and before my ass has even hit the soft cushioning of my desk chair, my cock is already in my hand.
I let out a breath, the relief slamming through my chest like a semi-truck colliding into a brick wall. Leaning back in my chair, my grip tightens on my cock, and I close my eyes as my hand glides up and down, picturing Tilly between my thighs, her small hands working me as she closes her mouth around my tip, sucking me dry.
Fuck, she would be such a little tease, working me right to the tip, only to pause and look up at me with a devilish grin. She’d enjoy it too. God, she’d be everything.
I come almost instantly, pouring hot spurts of cum into my hand as I clench my jaw, trying to keep quiet so as to not alarm Margaret. Then as I sit here with cum in my hand and my chest heaving for air, all I can do is stare out the window at the beautiful cityscape below, wondering how the hell Tilly Bardot managed to fuck with my head already.
After cleaning myself up and managing to act like I deserve this damn office, I get stuck into work, reviewing the Ellis file before flying through the list of shit Margaret needs me to sign off on.
It’s just before lunch when I get an alert on my home security system telling me there’s movement inside my home, and as my brows furrow, I realize I must have accidentally set the alarm before I left. Most nights Zeph doesn’t sleep at home. He’s generally in somebody else’s bed, and it’s become a habit to set the alarm as I’m walking out the door.
Logging into the system, I bring up my home surveillance just to double check, and sure enough, Tilly and Zeph are making themselves comfortable in my kitchen. Zeph eats like a fucking pig, and I’m not surprised. It was a rookie error to skip out on dinner after Tilly put him through his paces. The poor kid must have been starving.
I won’t lie, after finishing with her last night and having to watch her walk back up to Zeph’s bed, something didn’t sit right with me. She belonged in my bed where I would have spent every last hour buried inside her until the sun was peeking through my bedroom window. But I’m the one who made the fucking deal. I’m the one who made her vow that this was nothing more than sex. She doesn’t belong in my bed, and she sure as fuck doesn’t belong trapped inside my head like this.