Dumped My Fake-Poor Ex, Married My Wealthy Boss

Camden tightened his grip on Kaia's waist, pulling her burning body flush against his chest.

He looked over his shoulder at his assistant. "Scrub the security footage of this room. Leave nothing."

Alex nodded and vanished.

Camden half-carried, half-dragged Kaia out of the room. He avoided the main dining area, taking the hidden service corridor out to the back alley.

The freezing night wind of New York hit Kaia's face, but it did nothing to cool the terrifying fire incinerating her blood.

A black Rolls-Royce Phantom idled at the mouth of the alley.

J.D. Roth, Camden's personal driver and bodyguard, stood by the rear door.

When J.D. saw his boss carrying a woman, his eyes widened in absolute shock for a fraction of a second. Then, his training kicked in, and he ripped the heavy door open.

Camden guided Kaia into the cavernous back seat, his hand shielding the top of her head.

He climbed in after her and slammed the door.

"Raise the partition," Camden ordered. His voice was a low growl.

The thick, soundproof black divider glided up smoothly, sealing the back seat into a private, suffocatingly intimate vault.

The massive car surged forward, speeding toward Tribeca.

Kaia writhed against the soft leather seats. Her breathing was frantic, shallow, and scorching hot.

She clawed at the high collar of her conservative blouse. The fabric felt like sandpaper against her hypersensitive skin. She ripped the top two buttons off, gasping for air.

Camden sat rigidly on the opposite side of the seat. His hands were clenched into fists on his thighs. The veins in his forearms bulged against his suit jacket.

He was using every ounce of his willpower not to touch her.

Kaia let out a pathetic, desperate whimper. Driven entirely by the chemical fire in her brain, her body sought the only source of cold in the car.

She lunged across the center console.

Her burning fingers blindly grabbed the crisp, cool fabric of Camden's suit jacket.

Camden's entire body went rigid. "Kaia. Let go." His voice was hoarse, tearing at his throat.

Kaia didn't hear him. She dragged herself closer, her hands sliding up his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the expensive cotton shirt.

She lost her balance and tumbled directly into his lap.

She straddled his thighs.

Camden sucked in a sharp breath. His large hands instinctively shot out, gripping her narrow waist, trying to push her back.

But Kaia wrapped her arms around his neck like a drowning woman clinging to driftwood.

Her feverish lips brushed frantically against his sharp jawline.

"Please," she sobbed, her breath hot against his skin. "It hurts. Help me."

Camden squeezed his eyes shut.

Images of the past decade flashed through his mind.Years of suffocating, violent restraint.

The thread of his sanity was fraying.

Kaia shifted her weight. Her soft, burning lips accidentally crashed directly against his.

A lethal shock of electricity ripped through Camden's spine.

The thread snapped.

Camden's eyes flew open. The cold restraint was gone, replaced by a dark, consuming possessiveness.

He let go of her waist. His hand tangled in the hair at the back of her head, locking her in place.

He crushed his mouth against hers.

It was a brutal, punishing kiss. He devoured her gasp, taking complete control.

Kaia let out a soft moan of relief into his mouth. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, anchoring herself to the storm.

The neon lights of the city blurred past the tinted windows. The temperature in the car skyrocketed.

Camden tore his tie loose. He pushed her back against the wide leather seat, his heavy body covering hers, completely surrendering to the madness.

The Rolls-Royce descended into the private underground garage of his penthouse. The soundproof cabin hid every desperate sound.

When the car stopped, Camden pulled his suit jacket off and wrapped it tightly around Kaia's trembling, half-dressed body.

He scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the private elevator.