Elena stood in Cross Enterprises' boardroom, executives leaping to their feet, cheering her rebranding project as vibrant slides sealed a major client deal. The room crackled with energy, her bold designs earning gasps and applause. The memory of Elias's kiss; his searing lips, her hands ripping off his shirt, his abruptretreat burned in her, desire tangled with guilt over her mission to uncover the truth about Project Phoenix's explosion. She soaked in the praises as her eyes flicked to Elias in the corner, his eyes dodging hers, his avoidance since their kiss a sharp pinch, Julian's eyes locked on her, possessive and ravenous.
"Masterful, Ms. Marquez," a board member shouted, clapping. "This rebrand is a game changer". Whispers swirled; praise for her work, gossip about her engagement.
Julian stood; voice smooth yet commanding. "Ms. Marquez's rewriting our legacy," he said, eyes devouring her, claiming her outright, craving her talent.
Her pulse raced, his gaze setting her ablaze, Elias's distance cutting deeper. "Rewriting?" She said, voice light and defiant. "Just doing my job, Mr. Cross". Desire roared, clashing with distrust. He's hiding the truth but why do I still want him?
He smirked, voice low, stepping closer, cedar and spice scent swallowing her. "Your job is dangerous", he said, leaning in, his hand sliding along her hip, fingers grazing her thigh, teasing her with a slow, deliberate stroke that sent heat flooding her core. "We're celebrating at the Hamptons, tonight". His tone was firm, ordering her presence, his touch a sexual promise.
Her core tightened, his teasing touch sparking defiance, "celebrating?" She purred, voice sultry, challenging, her hand brushing his wrist, testing him. "Better make it worth my time, Mr. Cross". I'm here for answers, not his control. Guilt clawed at her, Elia's kiss a raw burn, her mission anchoring her.
The Hamptons estate sprawled under the twilight, ocean waves crashing beyond manicured lawns, Julian's domain pulsing with power. Elena wore fitted jeans and a black silk blouse, her casual edge a defiant middle finger to his world. Julian met her on the terrace, sleeve carved to his muscular frame, gray eyes blazing, bourbon in hand.
"You're fucking lethal", he said, voice a low growl, wanting to own her, his hunger for her body.
Her breath caught; his intensity overwhelming. "Lethal?" she teased, voice husky, stepping closer, their shoulders brushing. "You wanted me here, Mr. Cross". Desire surged, clashing with distrust. He's tied to the explosion, but why do I need him? Elias, why won't you look at me?
He chuckled, dark, rich, offering her a glass, fingers grazing hers, igniting fire. "Wanted? I'm taking you", he said, voice smooth, eyes stripping her bare. "Media's obsessed, so we need to sell it and make it real". His words demanded she play the fiancée, pushing her to uncover truths he couldn't.
Her skin burned, his touch electrifying. "I'm not your toy, Mr. Cross", she said, voice sharp, sipping the bourbon, meeting his gaze.
He stepped closer, towering, voice a growl. "Never said you were a toy, Ms. Marquez. I see you and you are a fucking blaze", he said, seizing her waist, yanking her against him, bourbon crashing to the floor. "You're mine tonight". His tone was raw, demanding total control, needing her body and her secrets.
Her heart pounded, his dominance overwhelming, but exhaustion softened her fight. "Yours?" She laughed, voice sultry, hands gripping his chest, feeling his pulse. "Show me, Mr. Cross". I want him and I'm slipping. Her nails dug into his shirt, desire drowning distrust, guilt screaming, but she relaxed into his pull, craving release.
Julian's eyes flared, voice a snarl. "Show you?" He said, hands tearing her blouse, buttons flying, exposing her black bra. "You'll scream for me". He shoved her jeans down, kneeling as he peeled them off, lifting her onto the terrace railing with ease, her legs dangling, ocean air cool against her flushed skin. His lips found her thighs, kissing slowly, deliberately, trailing hot, wet kisses upward, inching toward her core. He paused, looking up at her, a wicked smile curling his lips as her breath hitched, her body trembling, a soft moan escaping as his tongue flicked closer to her pussy.
"Mr. Cross", she gasped, voice shaky, hands gripping his hair, urging him on, pleasure coiling tight. I'm his, and I hate it.
He stopped, eyes glinting with control, that evil grin spreading. "Beg", he growled, voice low, teasing her with a single finger tracing her panties edge.
She squirmed, core aching, voice defiant. "Please, don't stop, Mr. Cross".
His grin widened, dark and triumphant, as he ripped her panties off, tossing them into the night. His mouth claimed her pussy, tongue diving in, licking and sucking her clit with ruthless hunger and precision, lips working her folds, driving her wild. She moaned loud, head thrown back, pleasure crashing through, her thighs clamping around his head as he ate her out, relentless, his growls vibrating against her. Her climax hit like a storm, ripping through her, legs shaking as she came hard, screaming his name, her body shaking under his tongue.
He stood, licking his lips, eyes feral, and carried her inside, tossing her onto a massive bed. His lips traced a searing pathfrom her still throbbing cunt, kissing up her stomach, sucking her nipples until she arched, then claiming her mouth, tongue pushing deep, letting her taste herself. He shed his clothes, his cock hard and thick, stroking it against her slick pussy, teasing her entrance, making her squirm.
"Beg for it", he growled, voice rough, eyes burning, needing her to surrender.
She laughed, voice seductive and defiant, hips bucking against him. "You want me to beg? Earn it, Mr. Cross". I won't break easy.
His eyes darkened, a snarl escaping as he bit her neck, hard, teeth sinking in, drawing a gasp. His fingers pinched her nipples, twisting just enough to sting, sending jolts of pleasure and pain through her. He slid a hand between her thighs, fingers circling her clit, slow, agonizing, then plunging two fingers inside her, curling them, hitting her spot until she moaned, body trembling, but she bit her lip holding back.
"Not enough?" he growled, flipping her onto her stomach, spreading her legs, his tongue tracing her spine, then biting her ass, sharp and possessive. His fingers worked her pussy again, faster, wet sounds filling the room as he teased her to the edge, stopping just short of release. "Say it", he demanded, voice a dangerous rasp, slapping her ass, the sting making her cry out, core dripping, pleasure overwhelming.
"Fuck me, Mr. cross", she finally moaned, voice raw, body shaking, needing him, guilt fading under desperate want. He pinned her wrists above her head, thrusting into her, hard and deep, stretching her, each stroke a brutal claim, his pace savage, bed slamming against the wall. She screamed, nails raking his back, legs wrapping tight, pleasure building, pleasure building again. His hands gripped her hips, flipping her, taking her from behind, thrusts deeper, more commanding, slapping her ass, the sting pushed her closer. Her second climax shattered her, ecstasy exploding, and he followed, roaring as he came, collapsing onto her, breath ragged, clutching her possessively.
Her heart thundered, his weight grounding her, body quaking with aftershocks. "You don't own me", she whispered, voice soft, lips brushing his ear, testing him.
Julian rolled off, eyes stormy, voice low. "Don't I?" he said, hand trailing her thigh, possessive. "You're mine to the world". His tone was blunt.