Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I almost gave another jerk because he never shared any kind of intimacy with me. It was always straight down to business—fucking. The only foreplay we had was when I was on my knees with his dick in my mouth. We’d never shared a single kiss after that first time.
Now, he touched me like this, called me his girlfriend, made me feel a lot more special than a whore.
Oscar raised his glass. “Cheers.”
We all did the same before we clinked our glasses together.
“The moment I saw Martine, I knew she was the one,” Oscar said. “Would have asked her to marry me on the spot if I hadn’t been a complete stranger.”
Finally. A man who wasn’t a pig.
Martine smiled and gave his arm a squeeze. Despite their age difference, it seemed like she did care about him.
We dined for the next hour, had a raspberry torte for dessert, and then said our goodbyes before we got back in the car. It was a short drive back to his estate, and that time was spent in silence, him on his side of the car and me on mine.
When we entered the house, Hugo was there to greet him. “Anything I can get you before you retire for the evening?”
Cauldron didn’t cast a backward glance. “No.” He headed up the stairs.
Hugo looked at me next but didn’t dare offer the same courtesy.
Fine by me.
Cauldron stopped halfway up the stairs. “Hugo?”
His servant whipped around to face him. “Mr. Beaufort?”
“Camille is the lady of this house. It’s time you treated her as such.”
Whoa.
Hugo was thunderstruck. He turned to me, as if I would supply an explanation.
I was just as shocked as he was.
Cauldron continued up the stairs.
He’d just earned himself a nice blow job.
I followed him up the stairs, making it to the third floor. His bedroom door was cracked and a streak of light flooded into the hallway, but I didn’t dare go inside. I headed to my bedroom down the hall, pulling down the side zipper to my dress as I went. Once it came loose, I could draw my first deep breath. The four-course meal had bloated my stomach and made it difficult to remain squeezed into that little dress. I let it fall to the floor at my feet before I slipped off the closed-toe heels.
I picked up the shoes and the dress, and when I righted myself, he was standing there. His evening clothes had been shed, and now he was in his signature sweatpants and intense gaze. The stubble along his jawline was thick and dark, matching the color of his eyes.
I was just in my thong, my nipples taped down.
He stared at me hard, like he wanted the bundle of clothes in my hands to disappear.
I carried everything into my closet. The shoes went on a shelf, and the dress was returned to the hanger. I hadn’t spilled anything on it, so I didn’t see why we needed to waste the energy getting it dry-cleaned.
When I returned to the bedroom, he was sitting at the edge of my bed, his bare feet on the rug as his hands gripped the wooden bed frame that surrounded it. Despite eating the same dinner that I did, his body showed no hint of bloating. It was slender and tight, the deep carving of his abdominal muscles casting shadows. Perhaps he ate nothing during the day, reserving his calories for his evening meal.
I held his gaze as I drew closer. “I’m your girlfriend now?”
His eyes remained as guarded as ever. “Do you prefer a different label?”
“Just doesn’t seem like your style…”
“You’re the only woman I fuck. Isn’t that the definition?”
I grabbed the tape over the first nipple and slowly pulled it off until my nipple came free. I did the same for the other, handling the tape delicately because it could tug on my breasts too hard and make me wince.
He crossed his muscular arms over his chest as he watched me. “Why do you do that?”
“So you can’t see my nipples through my dress.”
“I don’t think anyone would care, Camille.”
I rolled the tape into a little ball before I set it on the table near the couch.
“You should be proud of your tits.” His eyes dropped to look at them before he looked at me again. “I know I am.”
I felt my tits harden, but I didn’t know if it was because of the cold or his words.
He beckoned me toward him with an almost imperceptible nod.
I drew near, feeling the heat the closer I came.
When I was close enough, his hands moved to my waist then curved around to my back. My cold skin was engulfed in heat that made bumps appear all over me. My breathing had been rhythmic and regular, but now it veered off course and turned shallow. His arms cocooned me, bringing our faces closer together than they’d ever been. His head was tilted down slightly as he looked at me with those espresso eyes, his enormous arms covering nearly every inch of my back like a warm blanket.