Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
A blush heats my cheeks and I have to look away a moment. When I finally come to my senses I ask him, “A real-estate empire?”
“That’s the type.” Graham seems to hesitate, his typing getting slower. “I’m working on acquiring a property from a man who doesn’t want to sell it to me.”
“Why doesn’t he want to sell it to you?”
He laughs, the sound a quiet huff. “I don’t think he wants to sell it at all, but I can’t back down now.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve already spent weeks going back and forth in emails and lunch meetings and phone calls. I’m not willing to let it go now that I’ve made an investment.”
My face gets hot. I wonder if he thinks about me the same way—if I’m an investment that he’s made, and now wants to get his money’s worth. It’s as forbidden a thought as fucking him for rent money.
And…hot.
In a way. I shift on the sofa and he notices.
“You’re not an investment,” Graham says.
I startle next to him. “I didn’t…I would never say that…what?”
“Your cheeks got all pink.” He lifts a hand from his keyboard and brushes a knuckle over my cheekbone. “I took a guess that you were thinking of yourself as an investment.”
“Fine,” I admit. “I was...a little bit.”
“And what did you think about that?” he questions, his focus entirely on me.
I think…I’d like to be one of his investments. Sought after and taking his attention and focus. Even if it is just to be a reward at the end of a long workday. I think I’d love it.
“I think the idea of being acquired by you is sexy.” It takes everything in me to admit, but once it’s out, it’s more freeing than I thought the admission could be.
“Sexier than paying the rent?” Graham’s hand finds its way lower, under the blanket, and to the soft part of my inner thigh. I spread my legs just a little more for him.
“Oh, I don’t know.” I can barely say the word. My breath is coming too fast. “We could try both.”
“What’s your safe word, my naive temptress?”
“Red,” I say in a heated breath.
“Good girl,” he says before kissing me, and in a single moment I’m swept away in his touch. My head is fuzzy with lust. His hands are everywhere at once, his lips never stopping. He consumes every inch of my neck and lips. I’m barely cognizant as he strips me down to nothing and he fucks me over the edge of the sofa, facing the big picture windows, sliding inside me with hard, fast strokes. Graham makes me come that way, too, with his hand wrapping around and stroking over my belly until his fingertips find their way lower to circle my clit. He has to hold me in this position because my knees are weak and shaky. With every hard stroke I climb higher and higher until pleasure wraps itself around both of us at the same time. I’m breathless and stunned, really, by the time he’s planting small kisses on my neck and settling everything back into place. When it’s over he pulls me back into his lap and folds his arms around me. He plants a kiss and then another. It’s silent as he leaves me on the couch, zips up his pants, and hands me what I need to get dressed again.
He sits next to me as he was before, although his arm is around me this time. I’m cuddled up to his side and he reaches for his laptop, reminding me that he has work to do.
“I thought…do you want me to stay?” I gather up the courage to ask him as the moment seems to come to a close.
“Yes.” His answer is simple, and I start to feel out of place. “If you’re available and don’t mind that I’ll be working,” he adds.
I settle myself into his side, enjoying the warmth and comfort and simply nod.
The evening is easy. I have a few messages I answer on my phone and for the most part, I’m able to lay into him in comfortable silence, his laptop ticking away as he occasionally asks me questions. Sometimes he asks if I need anything, like the champagne he brings me. Sometimes he asks questions like whether I prefer tea or coffee and what restaurants I like in the city.
As the night gets later, his touches become more focused on my curves and he lingers longer. Two glasses of champagne down and his laptop closes. He pushes it back on the coffee table and then murmurs something about ‘earning this’ before his lips press to mine and his body covers mine. When we fuck this time, he’s on top of me with my legs spread around his hips. The climax is higher and heavier than the last, and he groans my name into my neck just as I cry out his with the blinding pleasure.