
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."
Chapters
Share
Chapter 5
Caitlyn's pov.
I choked again, but this time around, there was no food in my mouth. I coughed so loudly that I thought my stomach was going to come out of my throat. Zayn rubbed my back, an unusually calm expression on his face. Did he not care that I was dying?
"Sir.." I huffed, settling down and sipping from the glass of water in front of me. "I must not have heard right." I tried to wave it off, glancing at him.
"Do I look like the kind of man to sit around and make jokes?" His stern voice came, his dark eyes reminding me that he is my boss.
"But.. this is crazy. I can't." I furrowed my brows, staring at the document before me. My head swirled with different thoughts, it was so difficult to keep track of one.
"Why can't you?"
I turned to him with widened eyes. "Because it's absurd, unheard of! Who asks their secretary to sign a marriage contract?"
"Caitlyn."
I loved the way my name rolled of his lips, it was the sexiest thing ever.
Gosh! I can't believe I'm thinking about that at a time like this! Zayn has really driven me insane.
"Listen, we both need this. You need a place to stay, you're quite literally homeless, and I... Well, I need a wife."
"A wife for what exactly?"
"I need to secure a heavy business deal, and I can't do that without a wife." He swallowed as soon as the last word left his lips, it was almost as if the words were too heavy for him.
His dim eyes and clenched jaw were enough to show me that he didn't want this either, but he had no choice.
As much as I was shamelessly attracted to my boss, marrying him was the last thing I expected to happen in my entire existence. It should sound like bliss, a dream come true, but that is far from the reality. Zayn isn't a nice man, he's a ruthless billionaire who finds joy in ruining women, I can't fathom being married to him.
"Why me? There are hundreds of ladies who would fall at your feet for this." I bit my lip, staring down at my intertwined fingers.
I heard him scoff before he got to his feet, adjusting his tailored suit. He walked over to the other side of the table and sat down, his eyes still fixed on me.
"Because you're desperate." A psychotic smile crept up on his face and I shuddered.
"What?" I narrowed my eyes.
"You heard me." He sniffed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Listen, Caitlyn, I need you to be my wife for a year while I land the biggest business deal of my life, and in exchange, I'll give you a roof over your head, all the money you could only have dreamed of, and a status so high that your ex husband will wither in pain."
As attractive as that sounds, I still had my doubts.
"I don't know.."
"Go through the contract, sign it and return it by the end of the day." His stoic expression made my heart race. He got up again and started making his way towards the door.
"But if you refuse to sign them, return them and leave, the streets would be more than happy to have you back." He scoffed and strode out in a hurry, leaving me with a hanging jaw and teary eyes.
Since it was a Saturday, I didn't have to go to work. As soon as he left, I opened the document to go through it. The terms of the marriage were already stated, and it included a lot of things except our sexual relationship.
I couldn't help but wonder why he said nothing about intimacy. Was it allowed? Was it not allowed? I almost lost a brain cell trying to decipher it. Did he perhaps want us to have sex in our fake marriage?
The thought of it made my cheeks flush, and I ended up recounting what happened between us the previous night. The feeling of his cock pounding in and out of me like he was trying to mark his territory. I had never felt so wanted, so yearned for.. even though I knew it was all sheer lust.
Zayn would never feel anything for me, he was known for his promiscuous but charming nature. And me? Well I can't help but crave for his touch as well.
However, Zayn was right about me having nowhere else to go. I allowed Mason to rule my life, he never let me own any property, he claimed that his mother thought it was useless for a woman to own anything. I can't believe I fell for all of that.
Stranded at the mercy of my boss right now, the odds are stacked up against me. Signing this contract could be my only way out, and I hated that fact so much.
.......
Many hours passed, but Zayn was still not home. It's not even a work day, so why was he out so late?
I was sitting on one of his leather couches when Miss Rose approached me, bowing slightly and wearing her signature bright smile.
"Miss." She called.
"Oh, hey." I greeted her casually.
"Are you okay?" She asked and I shrugged.
"I am. But, your boss, does he always stay out this late?" I immediately asked, curious.
"I would consider it quite early if sir Zayn returns by this time." She chuckled and I almost gasped. Ten in the night is early? For a Saturday night? Mason would have had my head!
"Oh.." I mouthed, nodding my head slowly.
"Dinner is served." She informed me but I shook my head.
"No thanks, I'll just wait a little." I sighed, staring out the window at the surreal view of the lit up city. It was a cold night, and I was wrapped in a robe that Miss Rose handed to me a couple of hours ago.
After what seemed like forever, the dashing devil walked in, his electrifying aura instantly making the air tense. I bit my lip, unable to control the throbbing between my legs.
He was effortlessly hot and he knew it.
"You're finally back." I muttered as he walked up to me, refusing to break eye contact.
"Yes, and you better have your response ready. I don't like having my time wasted." He was stern with his order, and my heart dipped.
"Well, I have made a decision." I cleared my throat, grabbing the document from behind me where I had dropped it.
He kept on staring, but not at the document, he had his eyes on me. I had no idea what was going on in his head, but it had to be something dark.
"Take it." I tried to get him to look away and he finally did, taking the document from me.
"There. I signed it." I added and a short grin appeared on his face but only for a split second.
"I'm ready," I continued, "I'm ready to be your wife for the next one year."
He lowered his head, his warm breath fanning my tensed skin, "good girl."
I shuddered, but a smile tugged on the corner of my lips.
If only my boss knew.... I had my own plans.
You may also like

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.