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“Eyes.”

Obediently, my eyes flicked back to his.

His face immediately tightened in desire, like he was already prepared to blast off again. “Say it.”

My nails dug deeper into his back as my hips rocked back into his. “Thank you.”

One hand slid farther into my hair, and he brought us closer together, his pelvic bone grinding against my clit. “I own you. Say it.”

“You own me…” I felt the burn deep in my core, the fiery beast that wanted to come forth and explode. My knees squeezed his torso, and I writhed underneath him, so close to the edge that I could feel it before it even began.

He ground against me harder, his dick throbbing because he was just as anxious as I was.

It hit me like a freight train. Tears. Moans. Nails. I scratched his back as I writhed, moaned in his face until they became quiet screams. My hips bucked all on their own as my body went into free fall.

His hand secured around my neck and pinned me as he watched. “Eyes.”

Locked in place, I finished, tears streaking across my cheeks like shooting stars.

His pumps slowed but deepened. His breaths turned irregular. It was the quiet before the crescendo. He gave a deep groan as he hit the finish line. The explosion was so intense that I could actually feel it between my legs, feel his dick thicken then soften after release. His hard body became harder. His intense eyes became wild.

Everything came to a standstill. Our breaths filled the room as our eyes continued to drink in each other. My ankles locked around his waist because I didn’t want him to leave, even when I was fully satisfied, because I could never get enough of this man.

He didn’t try to move away. He let my long legs tether his body to mine.

“Thank you.” The emotion caught in my voice because the gratitude came forth, mixed with so many other emotions. My palm moved up his neck and cupped his handsome face. “Thank you…”

His eyes held on to mine for a while before he turned into my palm and kissed it. “You’re welcome.”

THIRTY-TWO

CAULDRON

“A yacht party?” It was morning, and the two of us enjoyed breakfast on the terrace. Two mugs of coffee with assorted cheese and freshly baked croissants were on the table, along with homemade jams.

“Yes.”

“Whose yacht party?”

“An acquaintance.”

“Acquaintances invite you to fancy yacht parties?”

“Yes. He races horses.”

“He races horses and can afford a yacht?” she asked incredulously.

“Horse races are a big business.”

“But that big?” She took a sip of her coffee. “I clearly got into the wrong business…”

“It’s a different world for men than it is for women.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “As in, a woman can’t do what a man can?”

“No. As in, society makes it more difficult for a woman to do what a man can.”

That cooled her steam.

“We’ll leave in a few hours.”

“Where is it?”

“Monaco.”

“Driving or flying?”

“Yachting.”

“We’re going to take your yacht there?”

“Yes.” I finished my coffee then got to my feet. “Your dress will be delivered within the hour. Pack enough for the weekend.”

“Alright.”

I walked into the house, took care of a couple things in my office, and then prepared to depart for the harbor. Once our things were packed away, the driver took us to the port where my yacht was waiting. We walked on, our luggage was carried away, and we were greeted with flutes of champagne and caviar.

She dismissed the waiter with a slight wave. “Sorry, never been a fan of caviar.” In a baby-blue dress with one shoulder and one side of her stomach revealed, she was stunning in her gold heels. The pearl necklace was around her throat, and I imagined it would be there forever.

Every time I looked at it, I felt like a king.

If this was a pissing content, I had the most pee.

Laurent came on to the ship next, bringing his date. No idea who she was, if she was an actual lover or a whore on his payroll. He greeted me with a smile as we clasped our hands together in a display of friendship. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re always welcome.”

“Whoa, watch what you say. My boat is still in Positano.”

“Why haven’t you gotten it back?”

“Been busy with work…and women.”

“And booze.”

He chuckled. “You got me.” A woman came up behind him, pretty and tall, wearing a dress that was classy but slutty at the same time. She introduced herself and gave me her name, but I forgot it the second I heard it. I turned to Camille, who stood at the bow of the ship so she could take in the view with the flute in her hand. “Camille.”

She turned at the sound of her name, the wind catching in her hair at the first perfect time to fly behind her. Sunglasses sat on the bridge of her nose, but her eyes still twinkled through the tint. She walked over, sky-high heels loud against the deck of the ship. She came to my side.

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