Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
I’m waiting for the call from Isabella that we have a new sexual harassment claim by Chastity Nash, but it’s yet to come. Maybe she didn’t get enough evidence. She could try again. As much as my heart wishes it wasn’t true, logic tells me it is.
I am sick and tired of working toward nothing, building new homes all over the world to be lonely in. Tired of not trusting anyone, but my lack of trust seems to be more necessary now than ever before.
Still, I need to know where she is at all times, I need to know no man lays his hands on her body.
I am prepared to fight and set the world on fire if it means keeping her safe.
Forget about her. You’re lucky you figured it out before it went too far. Before she got evidence. My attorney’s words echo inside my head but I can’t shake what I feel. The things she doesn’t know about me. The things I said to Chastity…
I walk to the massive floor-to-ceiling windows and look out at the Manhattan skyline. It fails to give the usual excitement of ownership as I watch over the scattering of my buildings across the city.
So far, the bullshit harassment claims haven’t brought my darkest secrets to light.
But, if there were cameras, recording equipment, even the short back and forth I shared with Chastity would be enough. My tendencies would be splashed across newspapers for the world to see. They’d call me a predator. A pervert.
News like that would destroy me.
I shake my head. There’s no point in worrying about it now. If I catch her in time, I might be able to buy her silence at a higher price than whoever is trying to destroy me. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
I unzip my fly and free my thick hard-on.
I can’t fight it. I haven’t been able to fight it since I met her in the bar.
I’ve never jerked off in any of my offices before I met her. Now, it’s multiple times a day and still I get no relief.
I stare out the wall of windows into Manhattan. I don’t even care if someone can see me. All I see is Chastity. I brace myself on one locked arm, the cool glass against my palm as my other hand squeezes and runs up and down my shaft.
Gritting my teeth, I try with all my willpower to drag my thoughts away from her. I have to move on, I have to forget how much I want to make her scream my name.
A surge of desire runs from my balls to the head of my cock, and I quicken my pace.
Good girl. Make Daddy feel good, baby. That’s your job…
Spread your legs. Wider. Let me in…I’m sorry it hurts…
I imagine how tight she is. Her little cries as she takes my huge cock for the first time. Nails raking down my back as pleasure takes her, and a moment later it takes me, my hot seed finding its home inside her. Marking her. Teaching her. Controlling her. Breeding her.
“Fuck.”
And just like that, I’m back in reality. It’s the sharp pain of a leg cramp that does it, dissipating the hazy pleasure of my orgasm like a cloud of smoke. I’ve been tensing every muscle in my body, so lost in the fantasy of fucking her every five minutes.
My dick and balls still ache. I’m not even close to satisfied. Nothing I can do with my hand could come close to the real thing. Furious at myself, I shove my still-hard dick in my pants and grab a few tissues from the dispenser on my desk to wipe off the window.
She has me pushing hard up against insanity and what I did last night is just more evidence that I’m losing it.
When the Westwood offices emptied yesterday evening, I went to her desk. I sat in her chair. I touched everything there that she’d touched. I wanted to jerk off, leave her a gift, but I know only too well the security cameras recording everything, and I’m already in a pot of hot water bigger than this building so I did my best to rein it in.
Sort of.
I looked in her desk drawers, finding a teacup that matched the plates we ate our cake from the other night.
Then, I saw a little pink zipped-up purple make-up case. I put the teacup back, retrieving the case, unzipping the top. Inside, there was a tampon and a pad as well as a tube of Chapstick and a bottle of Advil.
My mind spun. My temples pounding.
My manic obsession took over. I grabbed the case and headed back to my office. I tried to be logical. Civilized. I tried to control the madness. I failed.
First, I threw away the tampon. I don’t even want a feminine product inside her. The only thing I want inside her sweet cunt is my tongue, my fingers or my cock.