
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 3
Camille's POV
"Your client is right behind this door," Toria, the club manager, said, gesturing at the doors to one of the private suites the club owned. "Don't screw this up, Jessica. He paid mad money to see you."
Well, wasn't that just great? I needed money if I wanted to keep Jordan off my neck. Adjusting my new mask, I took a deep breath and knocked on the door before turning it open.
The suite had a living room area and a bedroom farther inside. I walked in, locked the door behind me, and dropped the trench coat and bag on the sofa.
"Hello?!"
Where was the client?
And damn he was one rich client. Only the extremely rich ones could afford renting a whole suite just so they could watch a stripper. What if he wants more than 'watching'? A voice in my head asked, and before I could think up an answer, a familiar voice spoke.
"Hello, my pet,"
Holy hell! I whipped around to see him leaning against the wall. He had a mask on but was shirtless.
Whatever abs I had seen in my dreams, they paled in comparison to the real thing. His chest was chiseled, ragged. Even the tiniest of movement caused his muscles to contract visibly. His black pants hung dangerously low on his hips, teasing me.
Delicious. I couldn't help imagine the pants falling off to reveal the cock that had plagued my dreams. I licked my lips, trying to control my dirty thoughts.
"You're being a naughty little girl again, aren't you?" He murmured, stalking towards me. I swallowed, shaking my head.
He was huge. I had to crane my neck to look up at him as he drew closer. His arms looked like they could envelope me and I would get lost in them. My eyes fell on the fingers that had been inside me and a soft noise slipped from my lips.
He chuckled, deep and sexy. He ran his knuckles down my face before tipping my head up to look at him.
"What are you thinking about, my pet?"
"Nothing," I muttered, stepping away from him. "And... uhm, yesterday was a-"
"Call it a mistake and I'll spank you." He threatened.
I pressed my lips together and gulped. Why on earth was I turned on by his arrogance?
His hand grabbed my jaw roughly, digging into it lightly. "You liked it didn't you? You liked fucking my hands like you did yesterday."
"Look, Mister, I-"
"Did you touch yourself?"
I blinked. Why on earth was he asking me that.
"Did you think of my fingers inside you, fucking you in plain sight?" He continued, walking behind me. His voice lowered with each word that slipped from his lips. My pussy pooled wth desire and I struggled to control my breathing.
"I..."
"You did, didn't you?" He murmured, using his tongue to tease my ear lobe. I arched against him, common sense rapidly flying out the window.
"You thought about my fingers in your pussy, didn't you?" He rasped, running his hands over my body.
The red lingerie I wore did nothing to cover my body. My breasts looked like they would spill any second. Two large hands grabbed them and kneaded them.
"What else did you think about?" he demanded, his hard on digging into my back. He pinched my nipples harshly and I threw my head back in a loud cry.
"You!"
"And did you touch yourself while doing so?" A loud smack on my breast sent me reeling.
"Yes! I did.I thought about you fucking my mouth."
He groaned, freeing my breasts. "That dirty naughty mouth. Such a dirty little girl. I ought to fuck your mouth clean."
"Yes," I moaned. "Fuck my mouth,"
What the hell was wrong with me? I came here to strip not fuck anyone!
"Soon, my pet," He murmured. "Do you agree to my terms?"
"I'm here, aren't I?"
He smacked my breasts then pinched my nipples causing me to jerk against him. "You will address me as sir."
"Yes, sir!" I moaned. My nipples were so stiff, my pussy dripped terribly. I desperately wanted relief.
He growled, giving my breasts one last spank and stepped away. I watched him settle on a sofa, eyes on me. He patted his thighs.
"Come here,"
I took a step and he tsked.
"No pet, you crawl on your knees,"
"Yes sir," I panted, dropping on my knees. I crawled towards him slowly, aware of his burning gaze. When I reached him, he gestured for me to sit on his thighs and I straddled him.
I moaned loudly the minute I felt his dick bulge. My hips rolled as I grinded on him. "Ohhh fuck!"
I screamed at the waves of pleasure that spread through me.
"Stay still!" He ordered. "Who gave you permission to pleasure yourself?"
"Please," I begged. I wanted more. I needed so much more. "Please sir,"
He spanked my pussy again. "Please me first, slut. Dance for me. Show me how bad you want to cum,"
He picked a remote on the arm of the sofa, tapped on it and music filled the room. I slid off him to the floor, and got on my knees with my ass up in the air, twerking and jiggling to the music. A loud smack resounded in the air as pain, sharp and hot drifted from up my ass.
"Oh fuck!" I cried, feeling my walls clench and unclench. "Please,"
I needed him to touch me. Like he did yesterday.
"Keep dancing!" He bellowed, smacking my ass as he rose on his feet positioning his clothed cock against my pussy and holding my hips in place.
"Yessss," I drawled as we ground against each other, as his hardness pressed and hit my sobbing cunt over and over. His spanks continued, hard and fast as the music increased tempo.
"Fuck look at that pussy," He groaned as he spanked. "So fucking wet."
Shoving the panties aside, his fingers found my aching core and sunk in, thrusting harshly. His thumb searched and found my clit and stroked it.
"Oh fuck!" I screamed, convulsing as pleasure wracked my body.
"Keep dancing!" He bellowed again, spanking my ass.
"I... I can't," I sobbed, getting too lost in the pleasure. I was too horny to think straight.
"You can and you will!" He growled, increasing the pace of his assault on my pussy. "Keep dancing, grind on that cock, pet. You want my cock, don't you?"
"Nghhh," I moaned. I couldn't get a solid thought it word straight. I just needed to cum.
His fingers fucked me harder, faster, while he spanked the daylights out of me. My pussy quivered and he groaned, pulling away from me.
"You would feel so fucking good around my cock!" He hissed, settling on the sofa, breathing harshly. "Sit on my thighs pet, dance for me."
Dance? He wanted to dance? Screw dancing! I wanted him. He had to know that.Grudgingly, soaked core and all, I rose on my feet and straddled his thigh, grinding slow and deliciously on it. It felt good. So good. But it wasn't his cock.
Or those fingers.
"Good girl," he panted slapping my ass approvingly.
Recalling my dream, I cupped a tit, pushed it up into my mouth. His thigh, the one I grinded on jerked at the sight and I grinned.
"Baby," he hissed.
I hummed, turning slightly so he could see me. I cupped both tits and sucked on the nipples all the while grinding on his thigh. His breathing, harsh and labored filled my ears as he watched.
"That's it pet, suck on them. Good girl."
His praises made me delirious with pleasure. I bit on my nipples and we both moaned. Snaking an arm around my waist, he pulled me back into his arms until my back hit his chest.
"Keep sucking, baby," he panted, adjusting us so that my legs were parted wide and nestled against my pussy was his cock. "You look so naughty. With your hair falling all over tits like that. And that mouth. That naughty perfect mouth."
I released the nipple I had been sucking with a pop and offered it to him instead. He craned his head forward, closing his wet hot mouth around my nipple.
I jerked against him and screamed when he bucked his hips, thrusting his boner right against my pussy.
"Ohhhh..." I trailed off at the intense pleasure.
His hands pushed aside my panties and repeatedly, he thrust his clothed cock against my pussy. It felt good. Thick, hard and hot, torturing my pussy with his sharp quick thrusts.
"You like that slut? You like being teased don't you? Answer me, pet!" he urged, his thumb finding my clit and bearing down on it harshly.
"Yes!" I cried, jerking against him.
"Yes sir!" He corrected slapping my clit.
"Yes sir! Yes sir!" I sobbed. "Oh I'm gonna cum!"
"Not yet," he panted, thrusting harder against my pussy.
"Please, sir!" I cried. "I have to cum. My pussy, oh my pussy can't take it anymore!"
"You can take it, baby." He groaned, throwing his head back as he thrusted harder.
"Please," I sobbed. Too much. It was too much. I needed to. I had to cum! "I'm cumming!"
I exploded into a gazillion shards as I orgasmed. My body shook as my juices spilled all over his cock. I moaned, growing limp in his arms.
Oh fuck! That's felt too good. Too good!
Movement beneath me, caused me to open my eyes. Hazel rose on his feet, settling me on the sofa and walked to the bedroom.
I laid there, sated, yet hungry for more. He still hadn't given me that cock. And frankly, I shouldn't be chasing after it. He emerged from the bedroom then, fully clothed in a suit, much to my disappointment.
"You're leaving?" I mumured weakly.
"I am," he said, his voice hard and cold as granite.
What on earth was going on?
"I'll contact you whenever your services are needed,"
When my services were needed? At this point it felt like he was the one doing the service! I barely had time to get on my feet when he moved closer.
"Under no circumstance," he murmured, taking a strand of my hair in his hands and curling it around his fingers. "Should you perform for anyone else, except me? Do you understand what this means, pet?"
"That you're rich enough to pay triple what I get?" I muttered. "Toria filled me in, in case you were wondering- ow!"
The brute grabbed my hair fiercely, yanking it backward. Pain exploded in my temples and I yelped.
"It means," He spoke on, staring me dead in the eyes. "That you belong to me now. Your pussy, your titties, those fucking naughty sounds you make, they're all mine, Angel. "
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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."