Hostile Takeover by Hill, W (best novels to read for students .TXT) 📕

what I do. And I’m only going to get better at it. I’ll pay my taxes, pull my weight, and I’ve never avoided my responsibilities. So…” Glad she was back in her heels, reclaiming the sexual advantage they gave her, she took a step toward him, cocked a hip, drawing his attention to the angle of the body he’d just sampled. “I can be as deviant and twisted as I want, as long as I’m not hurting anyone. The only one craving pain is me. From you.”

He stepped away from the door, right up to her, her breasts brushing his chest. His mouth was thin and tight. Everything in her screamed she should give way before that Master’s stare, that alpha demand for submission, but she couldn’t, no matter how everything in her wanted to do it, no matter her stomach was jumping hurdles like mountains.

“Don’t.” As he caught her chin, his fingers pressed against that mark he’d left on her throat, the impression of his teeth, the suction of his heated mouth. “Don’t try to act more experienced than you are. I know you’re scared to death and putting on a brave face.”

“So?” She swallowed against his touch. “I want you, Ben. I know you want me.” She dared herself, closing her hand over the front of his slacks.

He caught her wrist immediately, but she’d tightened her grip, feeling the shape and weight of him. Holy God. He really was…enormous. Her gaze flicked back up to his face. She saw a coldness there that would have sent an icy shiver through her if not for that overwhelming heat in her hand.

“Let go of me.”

“Let your slave give you release. Let me suck on you, bring you to climax.”

“For Chrissakes, Marcie. I’m a decade older than you.” He pushed her away.

“Nine years. Not so much difference.”

“It makes all the difference in the world.”

“Jon says you have the emotional maturity of a thirteen-year-old, so I’m technically older.”

“Jon is a New Age geek…ass,” Ben retorted.

They both paused. Marcie blinked. Her lips curved, tremulously. Ben swore, but his own mouth twisted wryly. “Fuck, this is a mess.”

Not from where she was standing, but she stayed quiet, recognizing the turning point where the negotiator had to stand back and let the client argue with himself, reach the appropriate conclusion. At least she hoped that was what he was doing.

“No more of this shit at the office,” he told her sternly. “I mean it, Marcie. You won’t be doing your internship here if you keep pushing it.”

She bristled at being scolded like a child, given that she could tell he was still impressively aroused, but she suppressed the dangerous urge to point it out. Instead, she gave him a short nod. “Okay.” She kept the fingers of her other hand crossed, behind her back.

He studied her, sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

“Think about what?”

He gave her a narrow look. “I’ll think about taking you to a club. Not as your Master. As your mentor. Make sure you know what you’re doing, show you around, keep you safe. That’s not a definite yes. I may wake up tomorrow and change my mind. You’ll just have to live with that.”

She didn’t nod, didn’t give anything away, agree or disagree. Her fingers were a damp knot. Faster than she could anticipate, he reached behind her, yanked her wrist to the front.

“Finger crossing? Really?”

She shrugged, knowing she was flushed to the roots of her hair. “It’s a universally accepted escape clause for untenable verbal agreements.”

Ben stared at her a heart-pounding moment. Then a devastating grin crossed his face. Her pussy dampened again, telling her she’d have to seek a panty liner in the women’s room of the main bathroom or she’d soak through her panties and skirt, right onto the cushion of her office chair. Particularly since she’d be thinking for the rest of the day about what had been done here, what tinder had been lit.

“That mouth of yours is going to be your undoing, little girl.” He stepped back. “I want you back at your desk. I have work to get done, and so do you. You don’t get to shirk it because of this. Since HR made you my personal slave for the next thirteen days, I plan to take full advantage.”

He stepped out, shutting the door firmly behind him. She wondered if he had any idea of the images that one potent word had conjured in her mind.

“I sure hope so,” she whispered.

* * * * *

She had the reckless bravado and stalwart courage of her sister, despite her lack of experience. He could cut through that shit pretty quick— break her down and leave her in tears. Which was when Lucas would kill him, rightly so. Even if she seemed to be begging for such rough treatment.

Marcella Ann Moira. Marcella meant young warrior, and damn if that didn’t fit. She reminded him of Eowyn in The Two Towers, disguised as a man on the battle line, shaking in her armor but still screaming out “Death” with all the veterans. She wasn’t backing down on this. Goddamn it.

Okay. He shifted in his chair, considered the view of downtown New Orleans, an assortment of rooftops and brick buildings, an old cathedral tower rising in the distance. She was a submissive. He wasn’t going to argue an indisputable fact. And fuck him, one aspiring to be full hardcore, though he didn’t much care for that word when it came to Marcie. Everything about her was soft, sweet, tempting. Too tempting. A sweet, tempting masochist who wanted pain as part of her pleasure. You pinched the places that you’d whipped, made them hurt more. It only made me hotter… Christ.

She was right, no matter how unsettling hearing the truth had been. With her being a natural sub, and having that curious mind, it wasn’t a surprise she’d figured out they were all Doms. She’d had a crush on him young, so the current fixation was normal, particularly with her