Chapter 1

Wes

You would think after a year of doing these I would’ve gotten better at them.

I haven’t.

I’m honestly concerned that I’ve somehow managed to get worse.

Which would be impressive.

Irritating.

Yet impressive.

“Uh…Mr. Wilcox?” Zaidee Khan, my personal assistant, croaks from the other end of the phone that’s on speaker. “Are you…um…actually listening to me?”

“ Yes ,” I acknowledge in tandem with tapping my shark pen against my pursed lips.

I am listening.

Partially.

I’m also searching this booklet.

I refuse to leave for the Morgan Brand merger press conference without being able to pass this headache back to my fiancée.

My fiancée who I barely waited six months to propose to.

They were a challenging six months, filled with work-based whirlwinds neither of us were prepared for.

While Bryn began as a tour guide at The Bower and Powell Aquatic Institute, she transitioned to Research however, they are significantly less when we’ve strategically presented them with opportunities to ask questions as opposed to making assumptions they can be sued over for slander.

I speak to the public in press settings and attend public events to appease the public relations department along with the other shareholders of my company.

J.T. is still the active and more important face of Wilcox Enterprises, but I am beginning to share some of the responsibility, therefore, allowing him to have more time to work on the projects that are closer to him.

Like his ratings and location app idea where consumers will be able to not only rank their personal preferred flavors in their accounts, but track where it’s socially available, thus putting his degree and passion of both technology integration and the alcohol business to profitable use.

And the projections of profit for it are extremely high.

And even more so once we add our budding library of beers to it.

“She also wanted me to remind you not to wear black on black,” my assistant continues at the same time I adjust myself on the gray, L-Shaped couch. “It’s not a funeral.”

That’s exactly what I’ll be wearing.

“Julia wanted me to remind you to use positive buzz words such as ‘welcoming’ and ‘family’ to keep the focus on the building of your brand versus the destruction of others.”

I use the non-ink end of the pen to diagonally follow the letters of a suspected word.

“And lastly, Mr. Hawthorne has advised me against allowing any more time to be scheduled with Velora until you and Bryn have scheduled time with him to actually sign the prenuptial agreements, the legacy asset paperwork, and your will’s as well as your living wills.”

Disappointment over once again failing to find something has me grumping in displeasure.

“Would you like me to go ahead and schedule that time with him now?” Zaidee politely offers. “I know Velora will be calling within the hour requesting the same.”

Velora Appelbaum is one of the best wedding planners in the country.

The problem?

Her inability to understand that the woman I’m marrying isn’t just an heiress with only a social calendar of obligations.

I lower my mouth in preparation to answer when movement out of the corner of my eye captures my attention instead.

The sight of my completely naked fiancée giving her dark, thick locks a lazy ruffle while unhurriedly approaching has me abandoning the word search along with the obnoxious phone call. “We’ll schedule those activities at a later date.”

“Was that Velora again?” Bryn quirks a curious eyebrow as I swiftly end the call. “Did I miss another one of those ‘Which One of These Announcements is Not Like the Other’ discussions?”

“No,” my retort is attached to pulling her into my black, boxer brief covered lap, “it was Zaidee.” Her arms lovingly tangle around my neck after getting into a comfortable straddling position. “Work reminders.”

“ Don’t tell me she’s turning on the Bat signal early, Mr. Wayne. ”

I slowly trail my calloused index finger down her light mocha chest to her darker nipple. “ Not before you’ve touched my jewels, Ms. Kyle. ”

“Is that what I’m doing up so early?” she practically moans due to me delivering a light tug. “It’s barely after six.”

“It’s easily past nine.”

“Do you want me to use my claws for pain or pleasure?”

It’s impossible not to smirk while lifting her full tit to my open mouth. “ Both. ”

Her lips move to make what I have no doubt is a snarky comeback prompting me to suck on the hardened nub, an action that provokes a heavy, heady moan instead. “ Mr. Wilcox… ” The rolling of my tongue warrants a repeat of the sound. “ Is this how you say good morning to everyone? ”

“ Just my fiancée, ” precedes me executing the same teasing motion to her other nipple. “Besides, I’m trying to make it a good morning, little prey. ” This time the nip presented is a little toothier. Her favorite. “ We both know actions mean more than words. ” A single hum of agreement is followed by me effortlessly flipping her onto her back. “ And my actions are currently telling you that I missed the chance to have you for dinner, ” the freeing of my shaft is smooth and swift, “ therefore I will not miss the chance to have you for breakfast. ”

Bryn’s mouth twitches again to argue yet has whatever response she conjured severed courtesy of my cock slipping inside. “ Wes… ”

“ Mmm ,” is attached to the first bite stolen near her collarbone, “ so fucking wet for me, little prey. ” Sinking my teeth deeper into the tender skin has her needily lifting her hips. Locking her ankles together right above my ass. “ Always so fucking ready. ”

Impatient scratches scale their way down the nape of my neck.

Along the edges of my shoulders.

Anchor themselves into my biceps for leverage.

“ Tell me missed you me ,” I command while harshly heaving my lower half forward. “ Tell me you’re mine. ”

“Make me. ”

The challenge is met by another hard hit, this one with enough force to cause our couch to scrape across the freshly buffed floors. Her moan over the impact combined with the rasp sound created from the furniture easily fuels me to execute an encore.

One that’s slightly faster.

More ferocious.

That leads to her hungrily whining, “ More. ”

“ No .”

Skating my teeth upward receives a round of shivers.

Whimpers.

“ You give me what I want, little prey, ” another teasing nip is given, this time to the shell of her ear, “ and I’ll give you what you need. ”

Her nails cut deeper into my arms as she surrenders. “ Yours. ”

“ Do better, baby. ” A tiny, torturous thrust is presented. “ Or we’ll both be going to work hungry. ”

“ Yours, Wes. ” There’s no vacillation in her voice or volume. “ All yours. ” She impatiently arches underneath me and dramatically punctuates her whispered proclamation. “ Only. Yours. ”

Growls of approval are proceeded by precise, primitive pounds.

Ones that carelessly bump her clit.

Rob her of any ability to catch a breath.

Have her soaking wet muscles swelling around my shaft again and again and again as though determined not to keep it drenched but drowning.

Drowning in their white-hot waves.

Diving to the darkest depths that cause the loudest screams.

Except she can’t.

Not being able to gather enough air in her lungs keeps Bryn’s vocal cords practically paralyzed.

Incapable of anything other than panting.

And her endless panting quickens the speed of my stroking.

Increases the pressure and consistency.

Calls to my balls to anxiously swell in anticipation every time they collide with her.

Bryn’s thighs uncontrollably tremble against me while her ankles bury themselves into my back, both actions wordlessly begging me for mercy she’s not going to get.

Because it’s not what she needs.

It’s never what my little prey needs.

“ W… ” manages to break past her lips prompting my pumps to become completely pitiless.

Feral.

Another louder, more intense attempt is made, “ W… ”

Grunt on top of grunt callously crashes into her ear.

Against the side of her face.

Between the paper-thin space separating us.

“ W…e… ”

Hearing her get closer to finishing my name has my dick incessantly thickening, desperate to paint every letter of it onto the orgasm she’s barely holding onto.

“ You need to come, little prey ,” the purred promulgation is damn near instantly met. “ You need to fucking come all over my cock. ” Additional sopping wet constrictions clamor in anticipation. “ You need to show me who you fucking belong to. ”

“ Wessssss! ” rushes out of her agape mouth at the same time her pussy begins wildly pulsating, greedily sucking my shaft in deeper and deeper, until it can’t resist the ravenous urge to plunge to the point of no return and release scorching hot ropes of cum. “ Wessss! ”

Inhuman huffs are attached to additional intemperate thrusts.

I mindlessly let my hips rock to the same pace as her uneven breathing and grin in complete satisfaction.

Like I said earlier, this penthouse was initially acquired to support her career; however, I like to believe it serves a dual purpose of providing a certain type of aid to our relationship.

Here we have actual privacy.

To talk.

To laugh.

To cook.

To fuck.

And given how much of our life has to be in the public eye nowadays, I appreciate the top floor safe haven it’s become.