Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 29567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“Oh…”
“Except you, of course.” He tips his hat. “Goodnight, Miss Locke.”
“Goodnight.” I remain on the couch, waiting and trying not to let my heart get ahead of itself.
This was just a sweet gesture. It doesn’t mean anything.
It doesn’t mean anything...
Later that night, the sound of shoes hitting the marble makes me roll over on the couch.
The lights slowly brighten, and I sit up as Dominic shuts the door.
He’s in all black now—a button-down shirt and slacks—looking tired but controlled.
“I am so sorry,” I say. “I know you said no company in your condo again, and I swear I didn’t invite them, and I was about to tell you exactly what happened because Nolan decided to—”
“Stop.” He cuts me off. “You don’t need to explain it.”
He walks over to the bar and pours two drinks.
I watch as he hands me one and then sits down beside me.
“You probably should’ve had one of those a lot sooner.” He smiles. “Would you like mine?”
“Yes.”
He hands it to me, but commands, “Sip slow this time.”
I oblige.
“After spending five hours with your family,” he says, “I understand why you lied to them. I would probably do the same, so… keep it up.”
I snort. “They mean well, they just...”
“Don’t understand,” we say in unison.
I nod and take another sip.
“Did you ever have to lie to your family when you were starting your company?” I ask.
“I never had a family,” he says. “Surely you’ve read my bio by now.”
“I’m just waiting for you to slip up and admit it’s fiction.”
“It’s not…” His lips curve. “Are you still with your boyfriend?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“What answer would make you finally stop looking at me like you want me?”
“Yes or no?” He moves closer.
“No.”
He doesn’t wait another second.
He cups the back of my neck and drags me into his mouth, swallowing my gasp like it’s what he’s been craving all day. His lips are rough, hungry, and I kiss him back with everything I’ve been holding in.
He shifts, guiding me into his lap—his control absolute, but his touch careful. My blouse comes undone under his hands, button by button, and his mouth follows every inch of skin he reveals. His tongue traces the curve of my breast before sucking one nipple between his lips. I whimper, arching into him, his name a breathless plea.
He stands with me in his arms, carries me to the mirror-walled hallway without breaking the kiss. When my back presses against the cool glass, he lifts my leg and slides his fingers beneath my panties.
“You’re soaked for me already,” he murmurs, eyes locked on mine. “Did the thought of me fucking you tonight keep you squirming on this couch?”
I nod, breath caught in my throat.
He strokes me slowly, teasing, until my hips are jerking into his hand. His free hand pins my wrists to the mirror.
“Look at yourself,” he growls. “Watch what I do to you.”
I do. I watch his fingers disappear between my thighs. Watch my mouth fall open as pleasure takes over.
When he kneels in front of me and pulls my panties down, the image of his dark head between my legs in the reflection is almost too much. He devours me like a man starved—licking, sucking, groaning into me until my knees give out and the only thing holding me up is his mouth and his grip.
“Dominic…” I gasp. “Please…”
“Please what?” His voice is velvet and fire.
“I need you inside me.”
Without a word, he flips me around, bending me over the nearby table. I hear his zipper, hear him unwrapping a condom, feel the hard heat of him press against me.
“Say it again.”
“I need you inside me.”
He slams into me in one deep, punishing thrust, and I cry out. He fucks me hard, one hand in my hair, the other gripping my waist like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. The mirror shows every roll of his hips, every filthy, wet connection of our bodies.
“You feel that?” he growls in my ear. “That’s what it’s like when someone actually owns you. When it’s real.”
I come hard, crying out his name, legs shaking. He doesn’t stop.
He lifts me, still inside me, and carries me into the bedroom. Lays me down, climbs over me. This time, it’s slower. Deeper.
His hands cup my face, and his eyes never leave mine.
“You’re not leaving,” he whispers. “Not tonight.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He thrusts again, holding me through another orgasm. And when it’s over—when we’re both wrecked and breathless—he wraps me in his arms, still inside me.
“Sleep,” he murmurs.
And this time, I do.
THE INTERN
IVY
Istep into Sutton Headquarters at 4:04 a.m. and pretend I’m a fully functioning human being.
I walk like nothing happened last night, like my mouth wasn’t wrapped around the CEO’s cock and his cock wasn’t deep inside me all night long.
It was just sex, Ivy. It didn’t mean anything…
I settle at my desk outside his office and open my laptop like I’m about to tackle world peace. Instead, I spend the next five minutes trying to remember how to spell brief.