
Craving My Dad's Billionaire Bestfriend
"Will you be a good girl for Daddy?" His husky voice dripped with lust.
"Yes, please fuck me hard, Daddy." I answered, breathlessly.
His hands were all over my body as he pressed into me roughly and I could feel my pussy swelling in response to his hardness.
"Good," he whispered against my ear, teeth nipping at my skin. "Because you'll be a damn good whore."He bit down again, pulling away from me long enough to grab one of my wrists and pin it above my head, then began fucking me hard, his hips rolling violently and slamming into mine in time with his movements.
•• •• ••
Camille Caldwell, tasked by her wealthy father to learn the ropes of business under the watchful eyes of a dear and trusted mentor, Gavriel found herself juggling between being a dutiful secretary and a seductive temptress at night.
At first, all she wanted from him was for him to give a good report to her father of her behavior, but as she got closer to him, she couldn't resist the magnetic attraction that drew her to him.
When Billionaire Gavriel Donovan agreed to take the only daughter of his friend under his wing as his secretary, he merely counted it as doing a favor for an old friend, but Camille will have him doing the unthinkable, and he'll have her pinned beneath him, screaming for more pleasure.
Can their forbidden desires survive in a world where their romance is regarded as abominable?
Was Gavriel willing to put his friendship and reputation on the line for a girl he was old enough to father?
*****
This book unapologetically contains very dark, raw, and mature contents. Do not open unless you'd love to be stuck in a sex-filled, lusty, and romantic world.
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Chapter 1
Camille's POV
"Jessica! Jessica!" The crowd of masked men chanted as I danced and stripped on stage. Loud music filled the entire club, and I grinned, trying not to get lost in the song.
It looked like today's payment would be worthwhile. We had a large crowd, after all. Adjusting my mask to keep it from slipping, I swayed my hips towards the pole on stage, dressed in a black lace g-string and bra, and began grinding against it.
"Show us those titties!"
"Take it off!"
The men yelled, and I tossed them a grin. Just when I reached for the strap that held my bra up, my eyes connected with a pair of eyes.
He sat away from the men surrounding my stage. He wore a black mask and a white shirt that bunched tightly against his taut muscles.
I could see every outline of those forearms as he raised a glass of whiskey towards his lips and my breathing stuttered. For a second, I wondered how they would feel if I kissed him. How could lips look so inviting? I could imagine them on mine, claiming, demanding, and taking.
My stomach tightened as I noted the rest of him. His jaw was clenched and looked so sharp, I could swear they could slice through anything.
I couldn't make out the colour of his eyes, but they burned. I felt them trail down my skin. And then they met mine again as he took another sip.
My knees weakened, and my hold on the pole slipped. He was drinking me in. Every gulp, every swallow. The crowd melted away, and it was just him.
I watched his Adam's apple work up and down in his throat as he swallowed and parted my lips in a silent moan. I wanted to climb down the stage, walk over to him, and kiss him.
Then, slowly work my way down that magnificent chest. His hands set down the glass, and my thighs tightened at how large they were. He was a huge man.
I doubted his hands were the only thing huge about him.
He blinked and looked away, breaking the spell he had on me.
What on earth was that? I had never felt so... seduced. And he had done nothing more than look at me.
What if he touched me? With those large hands? Grabbed my breasts and fondled them? My thighs grew slick and pressed harder against the pole, grinding my pussy against it.
"Fuck it all!" I heard a man yell and before I knew what was happening, I was being dragged off stage.
"Let me go!" I demanded, shoving at the man who had grabbed me. The security guards were supposed to prevent this from happening. But they were nowhere in sight!
That wasn't good.
"Let you go?" The man said with a disgusting leer on his face. "You naughty tease. Admit it. You want to fucked!"
Certainly not by him!
I drove my knees between his legs and watched him crumple to the ground, screaming like a little girl.
I barely had time to celebrate my victory however because the men around me went into an uproar. They grabbed my arms and tried to push me to my knees.
Panic drilled through me. If I didn't get out of here, bad things would happen. I could barely see or breathe with the men yelling and laughing around me.
"No, please no!" I cried, trying to pull away from them. Tears stung my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. "Let me go!"
My eyes caught the stranger I had seen earlier. He rose from his seat, about to walk out of the club.
"Help me!" I called out to him. "Please!"
He stared at me for a minute, clenching his jaw as if considering helping me, then pushed through the crowd.
I was right, he was a huge man.
He towered above everyone else and had no difficulty tossing people aside as he made his way towards me. A large hand yanked me out of the men's grasp and pulled me into his arms.
A woody scent filled my nose and I let out a soft sigh. He smelled so delicious.
"Not yet, pet,"
A shiver slid down my spine as he spoke. His voice was low and raspy, running down my skin and making me terribly wet.
He led me through the crowd that way. I, protected in his arms, as he shoved anyone who stood up against him.
"You can let go now," he murmured low in my ear, skimming his lips over my earlobe.
I shuddered and stepped away, looking up at him.
Hazel. His eyes were hazel. They burned as they stared down at me through their masks. My pussy throbbed and I bit my lip trying not to moan as I recalled the way I had been pressed up against that hard body.
He cupped my face, freeing my lower lip from my teeth.
"You shouldn't do that, pet,"
Pet. I don't know why that made me even wetter. This should be embarrassing. We were outside the club in a corridor. The thong I wore barely covered my pussy. I could feel my juices dripping down my thighs as I stared up at him.
"Why?" I whispered.
"Because I'll demand compensation," He replied in that deep timbre of his.
My nipples poked through the lace, begging to be let out. His eyes darkened as he took note of my nipples and then muttered.
"You're a naughty little slut, aren't you?"
"I... I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." I replied, trying to step away from him. His arm came up around my waist, jerking me towards him until I was flush against that hot hard, delicious body. I could feel his cock push against his breeches, digging into my stomach.
"Ohh," I moaned breathlessly. Oh, he was definitely huge everywhere.
"Are you wet?"
As he asked the question, his hot palm trailed down my backside, pulling on an ass cheek and spreading them apart. More juices spilt, soaking the lace thong and then rolling down my thighs.
"Fuck," he growled, spanking my ass and I squealed in surprise. "If you were mine, you would be up against the wall right now, pet. For being such a slut."
He delivered another spank and I buried my face in his chest, squirming in his arms, wishing he would touch me where I needed him the most.
"I could be your slut," I mumbled, staring up at him.
His eyes darkened and I yelped when he spanked my ass again. "You could be? Or you will be?"
My mind buzzed lightly with awareness that this was going too far. He was a stranger and I shouldn't fraternise with anyone from the club.
But he felt so good. And I was so horny. I needed him. Who knew, I may never see him again.
He pulled on the thong I wore causing it to dig into my pussy and a cry slipped from my lips. Pleasure shot through my veins.
"Answer the question my pet," He hummed, pulling harder.
If I thought I was wet earlier, then I was flooded.
"Yes!" I cried, head thrown back as he tortured me. "Yes I'll be your slut, just fuck me already."
He let out a slow long hiss and rapidly switched places. "So eager. You are so fucking eager, aren't you my pet?"
My back was pressed up against him, his cock digging into my back. A large hand pried my legs apart.
"Spread them, slut," he ordered. "And keep them that way."
"Yes," I drawled when his hand trailed hotly down my back, slipped between my ass cheeks and found my pussy.
He pushed the panties aside and pressed his fingers against my aching core. We both groaned at the impact.
"You're so fucking wet!" He growled, slipping two thick fingers into my sopping wet pussy. "Did dancing for those bastards turn you on? Tell me!"
"N-No," I moaned. Oh, he was driving me crazy. Thick fingers invaded my pussy, thrusting repeatedly, harshly. I loved it! I pushed my ass deeper on his fingers, grinding on them.
"Hump my fingers like the dirty slut you are," He growled. "Dancing on that stage, for all those bastards to see. Did you like it?!"
I moaned, too lost in the sensation I felt to pay attention to what he said. He withdrew his hands then and I cried in disappointment.
Three successive hard smacks landed on my ass.
"Oh fuck!" I cried arching against him.
"Answer my question pet," He hissed harshly, nibbling at my earlobe. "Did you like those men touching you?"
"No," I whimpered, trembling. "Please. Please,"
"What are you begging for, pet?" he mocked, delivering another spank to my ass, this time a little too close to my pussy. "Make it clear."
"Make me cum. Please make me cum!"
I was way beyond redemption. I just needed those fingers back in my pussy.
"You want to cum, slut?" He chuckled.
"Yes, yes please."
"You know what sluts do when they want something? They beg. Get on your knees and beg, my pet."
On my knees?
I looked down at the ground and slid down on my knees. My ass propped up towards him.
"Beg," he hissed, spanking my pussy this time.
I yelped as I tingled all over, more juices spilled and I could feel myself get closer to the edge.
"Please make me cum," I moaned, wiggling my ass at him. "Please? I'll be a good little slut. Just make me cum please!"
"I want to fuck that dirty mouth so bad," He groaned, slipping his fingers into my pussy this time and fucked me with it. Hard.
I held on to the ground, welcoming the invasion, relishing it, feeling those thick fingers fill me up
"Look at that," he murmured. "Your pussy lips taking my fingers like the greedy little slut you are."
Anyone could step out and see my pussy getting violated by some stranger and that thrilled the hell out of me. He was right. I was a dirty slut. His thumb found my clit and swiped at it before pressing down suddenly.
That set me off. I exploded, squirting all over his fingers and hands, moaning as I did.
His fingers didn't stop fucking me all through my orgasm.
"Look at you, making a mess everywhere," he growled. "Get up."
I struggled to, still reeling from my orgasm. He wrapped a hand around my neck and slipped the fingers that had just been in my pussy into my mouth, fucking me with them as he had just fucked my pussy. I moaned as I lapped up my juices off his fingers.
When I calmed down from my orgasm, the realisation of what I had just done dawned on me.
I had allowed a random stranger to touch me! Eyes wide, I stepped away from him, staring in disbelief. Without waiting for him to say a word, I turned around and raced towards the elevator, ignoring my mask as it fell.
I had to get out of there!
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7.5
Lena Hart never imagined marriage would be reduced to a signature on paper.
To protect her family and save what little she has left, she signs a contract with Ethan Blackwood, a powerful CEO whose world is ruled by control, status, and ambition. For him, the marriage is nothing more than a strategic move to secure his position at the top.
There are rules. There are boundaries. And there is no room for love.
Thrown into a cold, high society marriage she never wanted, Lena endures humiliation, loneliness, and a husband who sees her as part of a deal, not a woman. But as cracks begin to form in Ethan's carefully built walls, the contract that bound them starts to feel dangerously fragile.
Because some marriages may be signed in power...
but love has a way of rewriting the terms.

7.9
I woke up in a sterile hospital room, my head split open from a horrific car crash.
But the pain in my skull was nothing compared to the memory burned into my retinas just before the impact: my billionaire husband, Dawson, walking into a luxury hotel with a woman who looked exactly like his dead first love.
When Dawson finally arrived at the ward, there was no panic or relief in his eyes. He just coldly looked at my bloody bandages.
"Your reckless driving just forced me to postpone the quarterly board meeting."
Even our seven-year-old son, who I almost died giving birth to, didn't spare me a single glance. He kicked my hospital bed in annoyance.
"The Wi-Fi here is garbage. You're a bad mom! Dad said Aunt Angelita should be the one living with us!"
My blood turned to ice. For five years, I had bent over backward, wearing the hideous pale dresses he picked, starving myself to maintain a fragile figure, all to be a perfect, obedient substitute for a ghost.
And this was what I got. An unfaithful husband who would rather bury me in debt than grant me a divorce, and a son who wished I was dead.
The weak, subservient Charlene died on that wet asphalt.
When the doctor pointed to Dawson and asked for his name, I looked at my husband with a hollow, defensive stare.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
Using retrograde amnesia as my shield, I was going to tear their perfect world apart.

9.8
Raven Lopez, the estranged heiress of a powerful family, sacrifices her fortune and her pride to save her husband Viktor's collapsing empire.
She raises his children as her own and builds his success from the ground up only for his former lover to return and her world to fall apart.
Blinded in a hospital accident and abandoned by the man she gave everything to, Raven is forced to depend on an arrogant doctor, Killian....the one man she should never trust. As she regains her sight, she uncovers shattering truths.
Her amnesia, her failed marriage, and even her blindness were all part of a twisted plan set in motion by the two brothers who claimed to love her or rather three brothers.
The last brother had always been a mystery,lurking in the dark and waiting for her to be most vulnerable before he possesses her. Now that she's been divorce,he returns to claim what has always been his.
One brother wanted her wealth. One wanted to own her completely. One loved her, but broke her first to make her his.
Torn between three brothers,Raven must submit to one of them or they all ruin her.
____________________
WARNING ⚠️ ?
For the girls that take interest in books with trigger warnings,May God help us. :-)
This book is not for the faint of heart. It's dark,contains stalking,forced proximity,sexual situations (quite a lot),violence , kidnapping, gory scenes,non/dub con, manipulation etc

9.0
For three years, I wasn't a foster child. I was a living, breathing cure.
Hidden away in the attic of the Thomas mansion, my sole purpose was to keep their precious daughter alive. Every week, they drained my blood to treat her rare disease, leaving me anemic, scarred, and invisible. I was the "walking blood bag" from the wrong side of the tracks-a stray they'd reluctantly taken in.
The day Katharina was finally cured, I overheard the truth. "That walking blood bag has served her purpose," the grandmother hissed. "We are done with her."
They threw me out into a freezing rainstorm, tossing a crumpled check at my feet like a tip for a beggar. Payment, they said, for the years I'd "leeched" off their family. Payment for the six thousand milliliters of blood they'd stolen, for the chronic anemia, for the scars.
I shredded their charity in front of their faces and walked into the storm.
They laughed, screaming that I'd be back, that I'd be begging on the streets by morning. But as I stood alone on that dark road, my world shifted. A sleek, black Rolls-Royce pulled up in silence. The door opened, and my real family stepped out.
I wasn't a stray from the slums. I was their lost heiress. And the Thomases are about to learn that the girl they bled dry is now the one holding all the power.

9.5
I returned to New York with two scuffed suitcases and a broken heart, ready to end my three-year exile as a ghost wife. All I wanted was to sign the divorce papers, move my dying mother to hospice, and vanish from the billionaire Spears family forever.
But the moment I stepped into the penthouse, I saw a pair of expensive red-bottomed heels by the door that weren't mine. Carlyle, the husband who hadn't spoken to me in years, was already moving his mistress into our home before the ink on our separation agreement was even dry.
The humiliation was only the beginning. Carlyle treated me like an intruder in my own house, yet he forced me to attend high-society galas as his "perfect" wife to protect his reputation. When I tried to leave, he froze my bank accounts, leaving me unable to pay for my mother’s life-saving treatment. He watched my desperation with cold, predatory eyes, flaunting his new romance in the tabloids while keeping me trapped in his freezing home. My mother’s doctors warned me she was running out of time, but Carlyle only used her illness as a leash to keep me from running.
I didn't understand why he was doing this to me. I had clearly signed away the money and the name, so why wouldn't he let me go? Why did he have me watched for years if he hated me so much? Why was he flaunting another woman while refusing to sign the papers that would set us both free? What did he want from a woman he claimed to despise?
When I finally cornered him with the final decree, Carlyle didn't pick up the pen. He snatched the folder, a flicker of cold triumph in his icy eyes.
"The terms are wrong, Beatrix. I'm adding an employment clause. You’re going to work for me, in my office, where I can keep you under my thumb 24/7."
He didn't just refuse to sign the papers; he had just turned my divorce into a permanent prison sentence.

8.2
Alice, a government-trained genius scientist and surgeon, vanished overnight.
She woke a century later to find her once-clingy baby boy now the nation's richest man-a frail centenarian on his deathbed. Her grandkids were older than she was.
She forced the iron gates, removed his brain tumor, and finished in five minutes.
However, the grandkids aimed guns.
"Impostor!"
"Fraud!"
"Arrest her!"
Then the comatose tycoon sat up, slapped his son, and growled, "Who allowed you to be rude to your grandmother, you ungrateful brat?"
The security agency stepped in. "Please cease all disrespectful actions."
The academy announced, "Her return is our greatest blessing."
The top medical school pledged support. "We are all committed to unconditionally supporting Dr. Wright."