
The Billionaire's Obsession; Her Toxic Desires.
He is in pain, but so is she. He is her cure, and she is his sweet addiction...
Resisting her boss is the hardest thing Caitlyn has ever had to do, especially when she's married to the man she thinks she loves. How can she be so lose and lack self control? She has no idea, all she wants is to be claimed by him, her ruthless billionaire boss.
These dangerous, toxic desires will soon graduate into something more sinister and more twisted that she could have ever imagined. How will Caitlyn survive the danger that comes with being the billionaire's obsession?
***
"You torment me."
"You will be the end of me."
My body shudders, awaiting his touch. Waiting is torture, I want him to touch me now.
"Claim me, do it now." I whisper.
"Well.." he breathes on my skin, "Your wish is my command, kitten."
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Chapter 1
WARNING: This book contains a ridiculous amount of steamy scenes. Please don't read if you can't stand smut, thank you and enjoy the ride!
Caityln's pov.
It's closing time already, but somehow I can't bring myself to leave, not while he's still in his office. He's a workaholic, what else should I expect? He spends more time on his laptop than a squirrel does gathering nuts. He probably will come out and walk out on me like I am not even here, but I don't care, I just want a glance at him.
Zayn Morrison, my hot boss. He's the man I can't seem to get enough of, the man that constantly raids my dreams, leaving me wet every time I wake up, the man I shamelessly gaze at, despite being a married woman.
Yes, I am married, not that it's much of a marriage anymore anyway. My husband, Mason, has become a stranger, a total opposite of the man I fell in love with two years ago. I thought he was the love of my life, my life finally had purpose after meeting him. But he turned out to be a chronic cheat and an arrogant bastard!
Yet, I can't bring myself to leave him. I am an orphan, I have nothing and nobody, just him and this job of mine. I don't know where I'd go if I left Mason. His nonchalance towards me pushed me into the hole that I do not wish to get up from- my boss's secret admirer.
"Yes, I am on my way home."
I hear his voice and my heart flutters. It's soft, and yet so commanding. His tone is mirthless, he is known to be a strict man, so I expect nothing less. I hear the door creak open, and my chest clenches in expectancy.
There he is.. my six feet heartthrob. His perfectly chiseled chin, his gorgeous brown hair, and those honey brown eyes that I always get lost in. He is built like an Alpha, domineering in every way, a man never to be messed with. Despite the rumors of him being the devil himself, I still find myself attracted to him.
"Aren't you going home today?" I jolt out of my thoughts at his words. Is he talking to me?
"S-sir?" My lips quiver.
"Are you planning to spend the night here? My company is not a hotel for stranded hippies."
I swallow the lump in my throat, staring at him and being at a loss for words. He thrives by putting others down, a character that I have never found attractive.
"No sir, I will leave immediately." I lower my gaze, my palms getting sweaty.
He strides over to me, the strong scent of his lavender and coffee cologne hitting my nostrils as he gets closer. He stops right in front of me, barely inches away, and I can feel his gaze heavily on me.
"You know, it's not nice for a young lady to be out this late, especially a hot one such as yourself."
Did I hear right? Did Zayn Morrison just call me hot!?
My panties suddenly feel wet, I am tempted to ask him to repeat himself, because it definitely feels like a dream.
His hand extends to my desk, trapping me between the wall and his arm. I stared up at him in shock, wondering what he was about to do. He tilts his head to the side, a grin playing across his delicious looking lips. My body temperature intensifies as my heart begins to race. I found it particularly hard to meet his gaze, as it always triggered a temptation that takes the spirit of God to overcome.
"Any man could easily walk up to you and try to harass you, and we don't want that, now do we?" His voice is deep and husky this time around, leaving me almost helpless.
"No." I slowly shake my head. He backs away and retreats his hand, immediately switching to the stoic man I am used to.
"Now, go home." His order came, and I grabbed my purse off the table and ran off immediately without looking back. Forgive me Lord for I have sinned! I have allowed my lust for another man blind me from my reality of being a married woman.
I desperately want to stop, I want to forget about Zayn, I am not like this, I am definitely not a whore. But how can I forget about him when I see everyday? I am his secretary, I cannot run from him!
I took a taxi home, and fell right onto the couch as soon as I entered the house, trying to ease off the stress from work today. It wasn't long until I noticed how weirdly silent the house was. Mason is usually on a business call by this time of the night, but I can't hear his usual ranting over some missing files at the office.
"Mason?" I gently called out to him, but it was so dead quiet. The silence is suspicious.
"Mason." I call again, getting to my feet this time around. I strode over to the kitchen, opening the pots, only to discover that he had left his dinner untouched. I make sure to prepare his food before I leave for work everyday, then he can microwave it when he's home.
"That's weird, he hasn't eaten anything. Is he not home yet?" I mutter to myself, walking out of the kitchen. I decided to go up to our room to search for him, perhaps he was so exhausted that he fell asleep immediately.
The closer I got to our room, the more worried I became. Something seems fishy.
"Mason.." I heard a slight groan, and a gasp escaped my lips. I must not have heard right because that sounded like a female. Why would a female be calling out to my husband by this time of the night?
"Oh.. fuck, Mason."
There it is again! My heart grew heavy with burden and pain. Not again! Mason cannot do this to me again! This is the third time this week! How much longer am I going to watch him bring women into our house and fuck them in our matrimonial bed!?
Tears cloud my vision as I stood in front of our room, the moans and slaps getting heavier and heavier, leaving me with a sick feeling in my gut. My teeth clench in anger, and my heart squeeze in pain and hurt. I couldn't stand it, not anymore.
"M-Mason! Fuck! Don't fucking stop, that feels so good!" The bitch screamed, their panting raising in unison.
I burst into the room like a raging wind, my eyes red with fury as I stared at them. They broke apart as soon as they saw me, the bitch pulling a blanket over her unclad body.
"Mason!" I glared at him, tears streaming down my cheeks. He stared back at me, his eyes lacking even the slightest ounce of remorse or shame.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were working an extra shift." His question put me in quite the frenzy, is that all he's gonna say?
"My 'extra' shift ended an hour ago, you would have been able to calculate that except you're such a lousy cheat!" I aggressively spoke to him and he was not pleased.
"Know your place Caitlyn." He immediately warned me but I scoffed.
"Where exactly is my place Mason? Because as far as I know, I am your wife! You cannot treat me like this, I am your wife!" I raised my voice, my eyes almost bulging out of their sockets but he only looked disappointed.
"Mother was right, you are not a good wife, you never were. You're raising your voice at your husband!"
Oh my! Did he just say that!?
I know his mother never truly liked me from the start. She would always say that I am not in her son's class and that I don't deserve him. Mason always listens to his mother, and I have no doubt that she made him this way, she caused him to turn around from the man who loved me dearly, to a man who despised my very existence.
"What does that have to do with anything? Are you not even sorry for what you've done?" I question, glaring hard at him.
"Sorry?" He scoffed, looking over at the bitch beside him. She had the nerve to grin at me, such a pussy.
"I'd choose her ten times over you."
His words hit me like an arrow. I staggered back, trying to refrain myself from tears.
"You can't do this to me Mason, please.." I sniffed. "You're all I have."
I don't know where the sudden weakness erupted from, but I couldn't help it.
"You're so pathetic, Caitlyn, and you are only a burden to me. I should have never married you in the first place."
How am I a burden!? I work, don't I?
"Get ready, my lawyer will bring our divorce papers tomorrow, we are getting divorced."
D-divorce!?
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8.2
William Donavan is an oil magnate, but his life of wealth and privileges couldn't prevent him from falling ill. Now, with only one year left to live, he must race to secure an heir.
That is, until he crosses paths with Sophia Davis-a young woman who works as a waitress by day and spends her nights sleeping on a park bench.
Sophia is going through the worst phase of her life since her mother passed away and she was forced to run away from home. She works hard and saves every penny, dreaming of affording a place to live.
When she's approached by a man offering her a marriage contract that includes having a child-all she has to do is sign, and her life would change forever.

8.6
I was eight months pregnant with the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. My husband, Austen, told me he was hosting a private celebration to honor me and the baby.
But when I walked into the warehouse, the steel doors slammed shut behind me.
I wasn't in a ballroom. I was locked inside an industrial glass freezer.
Through the thick glass, I saw Austen standing with his assistant, Deb. They were laughing. He told me he didn't care about his son; he only cared about the trust fund that would unlock upon my father's death.
"Cool her off," he ordered.
His men dumped buckets of ice water onto me. The shock was instant. I begged him to stop, screaming for the life of our child, but he just watched with cold eyes.
As I collapsed into a slush of ice and my own blood, I felt the baby fade away.
Austen thought he had won. He thought my father, the Don, was dead and buried. He thought I was just a helpless, spoiled princess he could dispose of to seize the throne.
He was wrong.
With my last ounce of strength, I looked through the glass and mouthed three words: "He is coming."
Before Austen could react, the warehouse doors didn't just open—they exploded inward.
And through the smoke walked the man Austen thought was worm food.
My father wasn't dead. But my husband was about to wish he was.

7.4
"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.

8.6
"Do you feel that, Wren? That pull between us?" His eyes darken, flicking to my mouth. "It's wrong. Your brother would slit my throat for even standing this close. But tell me, little bird-" his breath ghosts against my skin, "-are you trembling because you hate me... or because you've wanted this as much as I have?"
>>>
Wren thought she'd left the chaos of New Orleans behind; the club life, the blood-soaked loyalty, the men who lived and died by their kuttes. Seattle gave her everything she could ever want-freedom, love, a future.
But one betrayal sends it all crashing down.
Dragged back home by tragedy, Wren finds herself under the watchful eye of Ezra Jax, the vice president of the Raven Reapers MC, and her brother's best friend. He's infuriating, dangerous, and far too tempting.
But the deeper she's pulled into his world, the more she realizes that nothing about her past or Ezra, is what she thought.
Yet in the chaos of gang wars, debts, and betrayals, he's the one who never leaves her side. The more she fights him, the harder she falls. And the more he pushes her away, the more dangerous his pull becomes.
Because in this world, love isn't sweet. It's brutal, bloody, and bound to break them both.
When loyalty is everything and love can cost your life, will Wren risk her heart on the one man she was never meant to love?

8.3
For three years, I was the perfect, invisible wife to Bart Brown. On our third anniversary, I stood in the kitchen for four hours, preparing his favorite meal with imported truffles, only to receive a cold text command.
"Crysta fainted again. Get to the hospital. Now."
My rare Rh-negative blood was the only thing the Brown family valued. Bart didn't want a wife; he wanted a walking blood bank for his "sick" best friend, Crysta. While I was fainting from chronic anemia, Crysta was smirking in her hospital bed, clutching Bart's hand and mocking my "peasant" lifestyle.
Even his mother treated me like a servant, demanding I vacuum the floors after I'd already offered my veins for the hundredth time. When I finally reached my breaking point and signed the divorce papers, they didn't let me go quietly. They filed a false police report, accusing me of stealing a multi-million dollar diamond necklace just to watch me crawl.
I didn't understand how a family could be so heartless. I had cooked their meals, cleaned their house, and literally bled for them, yet they were determined to ruin my life the moment I stopped being useful. Did they really think I was a nobody with nowhere to go?
Standing outside the hospital with a bruised wrist and nothing to my name, I didn't cry. I simply took off my cheap wedding ring and dialed a secure line I hadn't touched since the day I married him.
"It's me, Dad," I whispered as a fleet of black Maybachs rounded the corner. "The extraction is a go. I'm coming home."

8.4
My sister, Eleanor, was the laughingstock of the Vance family.
She was known as the pathetic, socially crippled heiress, bullied at school and discarded by our father for his new step-daughter.
I thought she just couldn't handle the pressure, until I stood in the freezing morgue and watched the heavy industrial zipper seal her bruised face away forever.
The car crash that killed her wasn't an accident.
Our cousin paid the driver to secure the family trust fund. Our step-sister Sophia orchestrated her daily torment, and our father Arthur embezzled her inheritance to buy a fake Ivy League pedigree.
They ruined Eleanor's reputation, painted her as a disfigured lunatic, and left her to die in absolute despair.
Why did the people who shared our blood treat her worse than a stray dog? How could they smile for the cameras while her blood was still wet on their hands?
They thought with Eleanor dead, they had finally won.
But they didn't know I existed.
I scrubbed the weakness from her name and took over her identity.
I slipped into a black tactical suit, bypassed military-grade security, and walked straight into the office of Wall Street's apex predator, Ethan Thorne.
I pressed a combat knife against his aorta and looked into his cold eyes.
"I need a political marriage. And you need a wife."
Starting today, Eleanor Vance is back, and the entire family is going to burn.