A Debt Owed Read online Clarissa Wild (The Debt Duet #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Debt Duet Series by Clarissa Wild
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
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She sucks in a breath while I lean forward, but instead of kissing her on the back of the neck, I press a tiny button underneath my desk. She gasps as a huge screen appears in front of us, sliding out of the top of the windowsill.

I give a voice command. “Show cameras.”

The screen immediately shows about a dozen or more live feeds from several cameras around my home, along with the one situated in her bedroom and bathroom … and the room we’re currently standing in.

I don’t even have to look at her to know she’s impressed because I can feel her breath faltering from where my hand is resting. Her finger lifts toward the screen, pointing at that one camera filming us right now. She cocks her head and waves, then she checks the room to find the camera above the door.

“Found it,” I mutter, smiling as she’s spun around in my arms while she was searching.

I place both hands on the desk behind her, trapping her. Her cheeks turn red as she leans back against the desk, and there’s a definite sheen of sweat right above her chest.

“Do the cameras scare you?” I ask with a low tone of voice.

She swallows and places her hands on the desk too. “No. I’m just surprised at the number.”

“Do you think these are all of them?”

“No.”

My smile broadens, and I grab a strand of her hair and curl it around my finger.

Smart girl.

“Are you the only one who watches?” she asks.

“No one has access to this room except me,” I reply, taking in the scent of her hair and cherishing the smell of her perfume. “So yes.” The strand of hair rolls through my fingers until nothing’s left but air filled with friction between us. And fuck me, is it on fire.

“How many times a day do you watch me?” she asks.

“As often as I can,” I reply, and her face only turns more into the shade of a strawberry. It matches her dress nicely.

A hint of a smile tips up her lips. “Does it turn you on to watch me?”

“Oh, yes.” Just the thought gets me riled up.

She grips the desk tight, her fingers digging into the wood as she bites her lip. I can tell she’s waiting for me to do something, to take her right here and now … but should I? She smells like tequila, and I bet she drank too much of it, considering her flushed cheeks. But she’s literally standing here with her legs opened wide, her ass leaning on my desk, chest out and nipples peaked as if she means to lure me.

With an index finger, I tip up her chin. “Are you afraid of me? Tell me the truth.”

Her teeth barely separate as she says, “No.” The word comes out strong and powerful, spoken like a true queen. But can I take her seriously? Or is she playing mind games with me?

One second, she didn’t want anything to do with me, and the next, she’s here, flaunting her body. She can’t seem to make up her damn mind.

But that’s just it. I wanted her in that position where she’d question her own morality, her needs, and her desires. I want her to want me, and now she finally does.

I can’t fucking say no, so I grab her face and kiss her hard. Her mouth latches onto mine as we tug and fight while kissing, her tongue rolling around mine, trying to take control. I can taste the liquor on her tongue, but it adds a nice edge to our kiss. And fuck me, does she taste delicious.

I want more. No, I need more.

My hands wrap around her ass and lift her onto the desk while I kiss her as if my life depends on it. I don’t intend to stop. She’s far too delectable to ever let go, and she knows this. It was about time she gave in.

Suddenly, she unlocks her mouth from mine, and whispers, “Wait.”

“No,” I say, kissing her again, but she shoves me back.

“We can’t do this,” she says.

“Why?” I frown.

“Because it’s fucking wrong, and you know it,” she replies. “I’m drunk.”

Her lips are swollen and completely wet when she says this, but I don’t for one second believe she doesn’t want this. Her sultry eyes give her away.

“Do I look like a man who cares?” I growl, and I plant my lips back on hers, not giving a shit what she or anyone else thinks of it.

She may be fucking delirious from the alcohol, but I don’t fucking care. She tempted me, seduced me like the little vixen she is, and now she’ll pay the price.

“You want this, Charlotte … admit it,” I murmur between kisses, and my tongue dips out to lick the roof of her mouth. I can’t stop kissing her; her lips are driving me nuts. She’s everything I ever imagined, everything I ever wanted, and I’m not letting her out of this room until I’ve had my way with her.



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