Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
No woman had ever made me so fucking crazy.
One moment I felt guilty for using and hurting her. Almost like it somehow made me the bad guy here. The next moment I wanted to take her over my knee, spank her, and force her to her knees so I could pry her mouth open with my cock. Not even a second later, I wanted to cherish her, see her as my equal, and let her stand by my side.
I had never felt anything like this for a woman before. Sure, I’d had girlfriends and women I just wanted to fuck.
Then there was Amelia. I never felt anything for her other than maybe a professional fondness.
Our marriage would never have been one of love; more like coworkers who functioned as partners to further the DuBois business. Her role would have been personal secretary handling the household matters, and the sex would have been compulsory and far less enjoyable.
I took a few deep, cleansing breaths and poured myself another cup of coffee.
There was work to be done.
In my office, I pulled up my e-mails. The first ones I saw were from my assistant, containing the stock reports and hedge numbers from last week. The e-mails were marked urgent, and I knew what had happened before I even opened them.
More red littering pages that used to be solidly black. More reports showing Manwarring bullshit. He was buying up more property, destroying deals in the making.
I knew Luc’s business almost as well as I knew my own. We had worked closely together our entire lives to further both of our empires. So I knew each of these listings was useless in his current investment strategies. None of these would make him money or further his portfolio in any way. These weren’t bought to make him money. They were bought with the sole intent of making me lose money.
Just like that, whatever guilt I felt toward Olivia was gone.
I had several missed calls from Luc, a few threatening voicemails, and then of course the glorious text messages threatening everything I had ever loved if I harmed one little hair on Olivia’s head.
If only he knew how much I intended to harm her.
He was going to find out soon enough. It was about three in the afternoon now.
If Luc was still sending threats, that meant he hadn’t left New York and was probably in his office or penthouse, trying to formulate a plan.
He was panicked enough to postpone if not cancel his honeymoon.
This meant the Manwarring clan was now in panic mode, right where I wanted them.
Time for phase two of the plan.
I grabbed a garment bag from the closet in my office.
Then brought it back to the bedroom.
When I opened the door, Olivia was wet, wrapped in a towel, sitting on the bed.
She had showered. Good.
“Put this on. There is makeup and hair products in the bathroom.” I threw the garment bag on the bed, and Olivia jumped back like it was going to bite her.
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
CHAPTER 20
OLIVIA
Ihated that the label on the garment bag made me curious enough to open it.
In my defense, I didn’t know a single woman in the entire world who wouldn’t at the very least be intrigued by a Dior garment bag tossed at them.
Besides, I didn’t have anything else to wear.
Opening it didn’t give me answers.
It contained a formal gown in a stunning ruby red, a color that matched my poor sore bottom at the moment. I had managed to catch a glimpse of the damage when I took a shower to wash his smell from my skin.
It didn’t work.
I still smelled him on me, a heady mix of bergamot and peppermint.
It was rich but light, subtle but still overwhelming to my senses. His scent, like everything about him, was a contradiction which kept me confused and unable to understand what was happening or to even begin to sort through my muddled thoughts.
He had spanked me.
I’d have sworn I would kill any man who dared lay a hand on me, but it wasn’t that simple.
Yes, he spanked me, but it didn’t hurt in the way it should have.
It hurt in a way that I liked.
I hated how much I loved how it felt.
Not only while he was spanking me but also after.
Every single spank had sent a shock of sharp pain or a radiating dull ache through my body that somehow made the pleasure of what came after more intense. The lingering soreness was a powerful reminder of how it felt to be bent over his lap and then impaled on his cock.
I didn’t understand it, or how I could like what he did. He’d taken me hard and fast, starting on the sofa then down to the floor. When he manhandled me, dominated me, it had been such an intense turn-on as he forced his cock into me.