Hostile Takeover (The Game #8) Read Online Cara Dee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Kink, M-M Romance, Taboo Tags Authors: Series: The Game Series by Cara Dee
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
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I smirked around a mouthful of Grace Kelly. “Answer my question first. How would you spend a day without obligations and interruptions?”

He huffed and scratched his jaw. “Right. I, uh… Fuck, I don’t know. I can’t remember the last time I had a day off and nothing to do. No errands or whatever. I’d probably… I’d probably order pizza and watch horror movies all day.”

Then that’s what we would do tomorrow after his ridiculously long meeting.

“Did I tell you I’m highly pleased about successfully convincing you to stay the night?”

He grinned and snuck under the covers, joining me in the middle of the bed. “You make it sound like you had to orchestrate a major operation to persuade me.”

I shrugged and welcomed him to my embrace. He kissed my chest before he looked up, and I dipped down and kissed him.

“I had a lovely evening,” I murmured.

“Me too.” He smiled into the kiss before he broke away to turn off the light on his side.

I was leaving mine on. I’d dimmed it low—that was enough. Because it hadn’t escaped my notice that he’d left a bottle of oil on my nightstand while I’d brushed my teeth, so something was clearly going to happen.

“You know what I never saw coming?” He settled against my chest again. “You being so affectionate. Not that I thought you’d be cold or whatever, but you haven’t exactly come off as cuddly either.”

Yeah. I knew what he was saying. To tell the truth, it was a surprise to me as well.

I was hopelessly drawn to him. As soon as he was within reach, I wanted to touch, kiss, and hold.

And fuck.

“You’re not the only one learning new things about me every day.”

He hummed and placed another kiss on my chest. He seemed to have a thing for my chest hair. “So far, I’m enjoying every moment.”

Same here.

Maybe I was even enjoying them a little too much. Maybe. Fuck. I didn’t know. I didn’t want to overthink at the moment. There’d be plenty of time for that later.

Jack yawned and stretched out alongside me. “I’m beat. More filth tomorrow, Unc. I need my beauty sleep.”

Sure, absolutely.

I raked my teeth across my bottom lip and watched him turn away from me. And the way he positioned himself, while wearing not a damn thing, was all the consent—erhm, confirmation—I needed. Ass out, one leg drawn up. He hugged a pillow and let out a long breath.

I lifted the duvet to see his bottom better. “Goodnight, son.”

“Night, slut.”

Hnngh.

That was me. The cock-hungry, greedy slut Daddy.

I gave him a couple minutes before I carefully pushed down the duvet altogether.

Pillows propped behind me for a good view.

At the moment, I wasn’t in any rush. I had the sweet memory of his uncharacteristically timid smile at the forefront of my mind. We’d been right outside Macklin’s restaurant when I’d asked him to spend the night. He’d smirked at first, and he’d called me a gluttonous old man who just wanted more playtime. He wasn’t wrong; I wanted all the play in the world with him. And…this right here. Sharing my bed with him, a notion that hadn’t existed before.

“I also want to hold you impossibly close and wake up next to you.”

Cue his gorgeous smile.

“Okay. I’ll spend the night.”

After removing my boxer briefs, I reached for the oil and drizzled a generous amount onto my cock. Then I leaned back comfortably and drew up one leg a bit, and I began massaging the oil into my skin. All while watching him.

Combining the predatory, savage Daddy who couldn’t control his urges with the submissive humiliation whore who’d do anything to be granted a mouthful of come was my heroin.

With much more to explore too. Like voyeurism.

I stroked myself unhurriedly and let my gaze trace every curve of his naked body. The slow rise and fall of his back, the fine hairs on his thighs, the shadow work of his ink, a handful of birthmarks on his shoulder blades, and the definition of his biceps as he hugged that pillow to him.

In the middle of a crowd, he could blend in. Perhaps that was one of the remarkable things about his beauty. His height was average—maybe an inch or two below it. He was fit but not one of those gym nuts with arms thicker than someone’s leg. Dark hair, like the majority of the world’s population.

Then he’d stand there, invisible in the crowd, and he’d look up. He’d reveal eyes that were a little more beautiful than everyone else’s. Eyelashes a little longer than normal. A smile more charming than others’. A pinch of vulnerability he tried to hide that drew me in and made me protective in a way I’d never experienced.

I exhaled and stroked myself a little harder.

Naked, on the other hand, he couldn’t blend in anywhere.



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