Spared by the Tyrant

Spared by the Tyrant

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing6m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, May 15, 2023
(18+) "Money buy happiness, do you believe on that, George?" George just stared at her. "Ms. Ivory, you're drunk." "Time comes, I will meet them in hell.. George, maybe then, I'll be happy." **** "Marry me, and you will be the happiest woman in the world." "Don't take me for a fool, Prime." "What, or then be my whøre, forever." "I'm not a slvt." "We both knew the truth, how you f*ck me like one." She got up naked from the bed but he caught her arm. "Now, don't go.. I want more." "You were such an assh-le," "Come here and say that again, I will not let you walk for a week." She grinned and mouthed the same word. And he grabbed her waist again, bringing her back to the bed. *Ctto for the cover
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He swiped my sweat-soaked hair off my neck, resting his lips against my ear. His fiery breaths blew across my earlobe. My body shuddered once again, craving more of him. "You're not the first woman to think she could seduce me into bed because of who I am, what I write. And you won't be the last." He gave a small chuckle, pulling down my dress, so it covered me. "But," he said in a low growl, "so far...... you're my favorite." Breaths poured from my lips at those words. My heart fluttered inside my pounding chest. His favorite, my brain stuck to his words like glue. Clinging to the small hope we'd continue this somewhere else, more than once. We stayed in that position for a moment before his body heat disappeared from my back. He lit a cigarette in front of me, the flash of the lighter illuminating his flushed, sweat-soaked face. I leaned against the brick wall, finding comfort in the coolness against my heated skin. His eyes met mine again. I didn't think I could move from the spot, but he forced me to when he held up a red, lacy thong in between his fingers. My red lacy thong. Fucking panty thief! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Their worlds collided in a heated, passion-filled hook-up behind a bar, bringing their broken pieces together. And now? Mercy finds herself as C.J. Cole's intern. The very Mr. Cole who wrote the most romantic, erotic books she had ever laid eyes on. How could she manage to keep her panties on around him? Or control herself? Hint: she won't. Mature warning.

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