"ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ᴍᴇ ʀᴀᴜʟ" ɪ ᴡʜɪꜱᴘᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ʜɪᴍ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍʏ ʟᴀꜱʜᴇꜱ.
Angel's life has been quite a roller coaster ride since she graduated with an exceptional degree from one of the finest schools in her hometown.
Securing employment proved to be ch...
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Standing before me, his grip firm yet gentle, his gaze impassive.
"Mr. D'Amano?" My voice came out quieter than I intended.
"Are you done with your training?" His voice was unreadable, his expression giving nothing away.
"Y...yes, I was just about to leave," I replied, hating the way my words wavered under his intense stare.
"I'll drop you off." It wasn't an offer. It was a command.
"No..no..no, Mr. D'Amano, I...I can mana...."
"You don't have a choice, Caramella," he interrupted, his deep voice laced with dominance.
I sucked in a breath. There was no use arguing—he had already decided. So I let him lead me to his car, a sleek sky-blue luxurious sedan that stood with an air of power, its tinted windows concealing the mysteries within.
I expected him to simply get in and let me fend for myself, but instead, he surprised me. Without a word, he opened the passenger door for me.
I hesitated for a second before offering him a shy smile and slipping inside.
The leather seat molded to my body as I adjusted myself. I reached for the seatbelt, but the damn thing decided to be difficult, refusing to budge. A small pout formed on my lips as I struggled with it.
"Hold on!" His authoritative voice cut through my frustration.
Before I could protest, he leaned in, so close that his head hovered just inches from my boobs. I froze.
His scent—God, his scent—was intoxicating. A mixture of fresh citrus and something dark, rich, undeniably masculine.
My fingers dug into the seat as inappropriate thoughts raced through my mind. Thoughts of his hands gripping me, his mouth exploring.....
Stop it, Angel.
He reached across me, his strong arm brushing against my waist as he pulled the seatbelt free and fastened it with effortless ease. My breath hitched.
His retreat was slow, torturous. Just as he pulled back, his knuckles grazed my hips, sending a jolt of heat straight to my pussy.
Our eyes locked. And in that moment, I felt myself drowning—falling helplessly into the deep, electric blue of his gaze.
They pulled me in like a force I couldn't resist. I felt trapped, captivated by their depth, a prisoner to their intensity.
It was as if I had committed the worst sin, sentenced to remain ensnared in their hold, unable, or perhaps unwilling, to break free. He was the first to look away, breaking the spell.
I blinked rapidly, turning my head toward the window, desperate to calm my erratic heartbeat.
