Page 6

“Oh, oh, oh, oh…Mmmm…”
My pussy clenches tight around my fingers, the waves of heat swallowing me whole.
Then orgasm explodes, a supernova of sensation that rips through me, leaving me gasping and trembling. I’m screaming, thrashing, lost in the storm of pleasure, unsure if I’m still in my room or adrift in some other reality.
I’ve never touched myself like this before, with such abandon, such raw hunger.
As the aftershocks fade, I sink into the mattress, limbs boneless, breath ragged. My fingers slip free, wet with my own release, the evidence of just how far I’ve let myself go for him.
I force myself up, legs shaking, my knees weak like I’ve been fucked for real. The bathroom tiles are cool beneath my feet as I brace against the sink, flicking the faucet on. Cold water rushes over my fingers, then splashes against my flushed skin, a failed attempt to rinse away the heat still coiling deep inside me.
But there’s no shame. No regret. Just the slow, drugging pulse of the best orgasm I’ve had in ages.
So wrong. But so damn right.
And it’s all him. That immovable, untouchable man who has owned my thoughts for as long as I can remember. Seeing him again has only made it worse.
Because now, I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting more.
Chapter 2
Adriano
I’m pacing the warehouse floor, my boots slamming against cracked concrete, restless as hell while my men sift through the latest powder stacks in the back. The space reeks of rust, stale smoke, and that faint, chemical bite leaking from the crates.
Tony’s over there, barking orders, his voice bouncing off the rusted walls as Marco tears open a bag, checking the weight. My empire’s humming with millions in white dust, all fresh off a boat and ready to flood the streets.
The twinkling bulb overhead buzzes like it’s laughing at me, and my fists tighten, then loosen, aching for something to smash. Ralph barrels through the steel door just then, his face pinched, jaw locked, eyes skittering away from mine like a rat dodging a trap. I know it’s shit news before he even opens his mouth.
“Spit it out,” I bark, stepping toward him.
He scratches his scarred knuckles, stalling. “The deal’s off. Kessler’s pulling out.”
“What the fuck do you mean, ‘pulling out’? I had that bastard locked down. Five million on the table, meetings every damn week—he was drooling for it!”
Ralph shifts, boots scraping. “Guess he grew balls overnight. Says he’s not selling. Snagged some investors to prop him up.”
I smash my fist into the metal table, the crash ricocheting off the walls. Pain sears my knuckles. That company—Kessler’s crumbling little kingdom—was mine. I need it badly, not just for the cash, but to scrub my dirty money clean. Millions piling up in shadow accounts, begging to bleed through those books. And now this prick thinks he can yank it away?
“Boss, we can still—” Ralph tries, but my glare slices him silent.
“Get me everything on him,” I snarl. “Every fucking crumb of filth. I want his life gutted.”
Ralph nods and his thumbs are already jabbing his phone. “On it.”
I turn to stare at the wall, its peeling paint like shredded flesh. I’ve scraped my empire from dirt and blood, broken every rule to climb, and still, it’s never enough. One asshole with a sudden backbone, and it all wobbles.
Pain’s not a choice; it’s the fucking toll for breathing.
For three years, I’ve been neck-deep in this world. No room for softness. No time for grief. Business deals, money laundering, power plays—it’s all I know now. Now I’ve got nothing but this: deals, fists, and a void that swallows everything good.
That, and the fleeting relief I find in a willing body.
I lean against the table with my gloved hands flexing. Thinking about it. I should have a woman pinned against some hotel wall now. A blonde maybe, loud and forgettable. Her nails scratching my back, and her moans fake as hell. I’ll fuck her hard, fast, chasing something I never find.
And when it’s over, I shove her off, toss cash on the dresser, and leave without a word. No kissing, no repeats—just a transaction.
That’s all it’s been since Sophia died. Women come and go, mouths on mine when I let them, but it’s empty. Mechanical. I don’t feel shit anymore, just the grind of moving forward because stopping means drowning.