Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 96404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“I didn’t hear that.”
“Please!”
“Much better.” He pushes off the wall and heads into a room.
I fidget, observing his apartment and wondering why it’s cold and impersonal. Almost like there isn’t a person living here.
A few moments later, Sebastian returns with sweatpants and a hoodie that will definitely swallow my petite frame.
Our hands brush when he gives them to me. Instead of backing away, he remains there, unmoving.
I clear my throat. “Can I use your bathroom to wash up?”
“No.”
“No?”
He grabs my wrist and I yelp when he pulls me forward and whispers in my ear, “You’ll go back to your husband with my cum dried in your cunt and between your legs so he knows you were fucked like he’ll never be able to fuck you.”
27
Sebastian
“Focus.”
Aspen’s no-nonsense tone drags me back to the present.
We’re representing the firm at a charity event being thrown by my grandparents in their mansion.
Nate is a no-show, and unlike other events where he comes late, he’ll probably pull a dick move and skip this one. Grandma will clutch her pearls and Grandpa will make a hundred excuses as to why his ‘hotshot’ son hates him.
Of course, no one knows all the strings they pulled to try to stop him from starting Weaver & Shaw. To this day, they still have hopes that my uncle and I will carry on the family legacy and go into politics.
But while Nate avoids Mr. and Mrs. Weaver, Aspen and I think differently. Since they’re using my and Nate’s success as a chance to brag anyway, we should milk them for our own sake, regardless of our personal relationship.
Just earlier, my grandparents made a show of introducing me to their friends and other party members, but they’d curse me if we were all alone.
Not that I care.
I’m only showing my face here so Aspen can get what she wants—connections—and I can get what I want—judge files. If it were up to me, I’d be chasing my little prey.
My Naomi.
What happened last night wasn’t supposed to go down like that. I did plan to claim her and take all she had to offer. When I saw her standing in front of my apartment, my mind whirled with a thousand scenarios and all of them included fucking her until she couldn’t move.
But I didn’t count on her reaction.
I didn’t think she’d be so into it, that it’d touch something inside me.
No idea what that something is, but it was there with every moan from her throat, every wrestle, and every claw. Even with the way she tried to touch me.
She wanted to fucking touch me.
That’s what triggered it all for me. The moment she reached out a hand for me, I wanted to slam her against the wall and ask her why the fuck she thought she had the right to touch me.
I needed to punish her for making me want her, but I ended up losing myself in her.
My beast found the perfect prey in her and there was no stopping or holding back.
There was no logic.
There was only me and her. As if no time had passed since the last time I touched her.
As if I’d just been inside her yesterday.
But that’s the thing. Time has passed and that can’t simply be written the fuck off.
I can’t pick up the pieces when she never gave them back.
In the beginning, I thought I’d feel triumph at making her a cheater and ruining her picturesque fucking marriage. I thought the mere act of destroying a part of her carefully built life would make me feel victorious.
It didn’t.
Or maybe it did for a while, until she changed clothes and went back to her husband.
The fact that he could’ve fucked her after I did, that he tasted her lips and pounded into her cunt like I did has been blackening my vision all day.
I contemplated going to Akira and painting her as a cheater. I wanted to see the look on his stoic face when he realized the wife he had on his arm and whispered things to while she laughed had my dick inside her.
The only thing that stopped me is the unpredictability Akira Mori is known for.
From what Knox and Daniel told me, he has secret webs to criminal organizations, namely the Yakuza, and he doesn’t hesitate to chop off the heads of whoever opposes him.
Coupling that with how Naomi wants me to stay away from him, I’m sure he’s no normal businessman.
He doesn’t scare me, but the fact that he could hurt Naomi does.
Fuck.
That’s why I didn’t barge in front of him and yank Naomi to my side.
I shouldn’t care whether she’s safe or not after what she did to me, but fuck, I do.
In a twisted, fucked-up way, I want to be the only one who hurts her. Not that fucker Akira or anyone else.