She grips my shoulders, her eyes down where we’re connected, holding her breath.
“Baby, you need to relax for me. Let go.” I graze the shell of her ear with my lips. “Breathe for me.”
She flexes her legs, digging her heels into my ass. The move lifts her pelvis, and she slides farther.
“Fuck,” I groan, only barely hanging onto my control. “You feel so good. This tight cunt is perfect.” I snake my finger between us, rubbing her clit, and she finally yields.
Sliding fully in, I pause, letting her adjust around me. Her chest heaves, her legs quiver around my waist, but she is Roxy fucking Moretti because she lifts her gaze and says, “Where is my fucking reward, Liam?”
“That’s my girl.” I chuckle, and start moving.
It doesn’t take long, and my control vanishes. We’re just bodies seeking release.
At one point I have to cover Roxy’s mouth, because her moans are the sound of music to me, but would be an alarm bell just feet away in the dining room.
I pound into her with all the pent-up energy I have accumulated over the past few weeks. It’s like redemption and punishment. Like I’m trying to catch up for lost time, but it can never be enough.
It’s not enough, and too much.
I have never felt so unfettered with anyone.
Roxy meets my every thrust, hanging onto me for dear life as I set a punishing tempo, chasing what we both need so much.
“Liam,” she breathes against my palm, her walls closing around my cock.
“That’s my girl, squeeze me hard. Milk me, baby.”
Every muscle in her body tightens as she comes undone. With a few more thrusts, I follow, my orgasm blinding me.
Revenge.
Revenge.
Revenge.
It has been my driving force for a decade. I have spent a lot of time and effort setting fires inside my father’s business.
Minor acts of sabotage he could never trace back to me. Not much damage, but enough to cause trouble for him—financially, legally, morally.
He lost money because of me. He lost exceptional employees thanks to my interference. He got sued due to my indirect influence.
Accumulated, it was enough of a headache for him. But none of it was enough to bring Sterling Stone down.
I came here to get closer to a woman who can help me deliver the final blow. Or that’s what I keep telling myself.
Seated beside me, with her chair angled toward thescreen in front of us, Roxy crosses her fishnet-clad legs, and her skirt slides up.
While her legs are dressed for seduction, she has buttoned her granny cardigan up to her neck.
I want to rip it open and see what she has underneath.
I want to discover what color her panties are today.
I need to feel her body pressed against mine.
What I should be doing instead is listening to Declan’s presentation on the large screen.
Corm interrupts with a question, and Roxy pulls a pen from her dreadlock bun and makes a note.
