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Women are born liars. They will suck the life out of you until you don't believe in yourself. That is how the universe revolves. So my rules are simple. One night. No real names. No repeats. Every week, it should be a different woman. She should be blonde, sexy, and preferably not expecting for more... Until one liar changes everything. *** Once upon a time, I had a crush on the intense, smoldering, sexy beast, Lucas Alejandro. I first saw him at my mom and my step-father's wedding. But, I don't think he would ever notice me. Because for Luke, I was off-limits. But after six long years, a twist of fate could be a little playful.
LUKE
Cambridge was nothing more but a place my father threw me to spend the next six months of living. It was where I lost everything that shined brightly before my eyes. And this was where I built my dreams, but shattered into a thousand pieces.
Every friend I had in this dump was now an enemy. This was where "loyalty" and "compassion" was ripped from me.
To deal with everything once more, I should at least enjoy myself in every possible way. I'd booked a suite at the Ritz Carlton, where I was leaning on the bed, tangling the hair of a woman devouring my shaft.
She was teasingly sliding her tongue around my tip. "Do you want it like this?" She looked up at me. I groaned and didn't answer. I pushed her head down as she pressed her lips to cover my whole. Over the whole three hours, I bent her over the table and fucked her endlessly.
It was satisfying, yes, but in the next few days, I had to find someone else.
And then she took me in her mouth again. The pleasure was building up through me, my legs stiffened, and my body was telling me to let go. I slightly pushed her head away, but she didn't move. She went down deeper and sucked me harder. I scowled and tried to pull her even more, but it was too late, but I came in her mouth.
She looked at me, hungrily, and then she swallowed every last drop.
Not bad.
When she's finally moving away, I sprang then zipped my pants.
"It's my first time swallowing, you know, " she informed.
"You shouldn't have, " I said coldly. I need to go.
"Shall we have dinner and then go on with a few rounds?"
I raised an eyebrow, confused. "What happened when you agreed that there wouldn't be the next round?"
That was how exactly women wanted it to start. A senseless conversation, sex, and at the end of the day, she would begin to think there was something more. I was done with that.
"Can't you consider since we've been talking for a few days? It's the examinations this coming week, and I have no time to open my account to chat with you?"
Right, yes. I met her online. I'd met her on MeetandGreet, an online dating site. Her profile said she was a professor at a University.
"No. Thanks. I need to go somewhere else."
"Hmm, why don't we just tell each other something real? My name's Chloe, and I'm not a professor but an undergraduate from Boston University. I'm not really from Harvard. I drove here several hours to meet you, and I don't give my real names to a stranger." She smiled sheepishly as if her lies were something to brag about.
"What, you just screw with them, is that it?" I shook my head in disbelief. The fact that she lied about her name and school was a major turned off. "Are you going to stay here, or do you need fare for the cab?"
"How dare you?" she cursed, her voice raised.
"Is there something wrong with my question?"
"Wow..." She shook her head. "Someday, you'll regret doing this."
"Regret doing what?"
"This. Making a woman waste their time and hope that you're interested, and then you'll fuck her, and then you'll move on to the next."
"I never gave hopes." Where's my wallet? Damn it.
"One day, you'll find your own taste of medicine, " she continued.
Oh, there it is. "You know what, Chloe, or whatever your name is, I don't give a fuck what you think of my future."
***
Five years ago, Harvard was my favorite place. It was where I sat, dreamed, hoped, fell in love, and spent days with the people I trusted. I created my own world with the people I loved, but all of it ended up a broken dream when I found the person I loved the most fucking another man.
I wasn't a dramatic kind of person, well, I was. I was sentimental, compassionate, and considerate-which I now despise about myself.
Fortunately, I was able to redeem half of myself when Dad remarried. My stepmother, Gene, was a bit unacceptable at first. However, she showed me that I could trust another person other than Jake, or Aries. And to end this fucking overview of my life, I liked the person I'd become. At least no one would dare get inside of me again, see through me, and break my trust.
I'd been looking for a woman to screw online since last year. I found it entertaining and interesting, knowing that I could choose whoever I want to screw without commitments.
I never trusted a woman online-all I wanted was their wet core. I scrolled through my inbox and checked if I had emails from women I could meet this weekend.
I deleted the other messages I wasn't in, especially fake profiles. Then, another email popped up. The message was from Ericka. The one and only email I kept in my inbox for some compelling reason. She was twenty-eight, a Harvard graduate, working in an IT company in Cambridge. We'd been sending senseless emails for three months. She was fun to talk to, and she was sexy as fuck when she started the dirty talks.
I opened her message.
Subject: I need help
I need help on deleting your unlimited messages. What is this all about? There were tons of woman to find in this app, and you're supposed to be with one because it's Saturday and yet, you're interrupting me in the middle of my meditation because my mother was trying to set me up to a loser and that loser was my ex-boyfriend I dumped last month. Well, it's not her fault. She didn't know about him.
- Ericka
Subject: Re: I need help
Well, I was waiting for you to finally open your account to tell you that I'm in Cambridge right now, just a few steps away from you.
Maybe this is the right time to finally show yourself to me. You've been teasing me for three months with your smart ass mouth.
But, I don't think that you need help on anything, but you just wanted to tell me your loser ex-boyfriend.
Now, will you tell me where are you right now, so we could talk face to face?
- Jax
Subject: Re: Re: I need help
Well Jax, I already told you that I'm sharing a room with a female. There's no chance we could meet. However, even if I'm alone, I will never show my face to you. It's against my rules. I never meet a man online.
- Ericka
Damn it. I tossed the phone on the bed. We'd met through an app ProExpress Chat founded at Harvard. It was a simple social networking application which only allows the user to chat anonymously. No profile pictures, feeds, comment box or even blogs, nothing, just an inbox and a few details such as name and age, gender, relationship status, and occupation.
Every user must be a professional and a graduate of Harvard. You must be invited by the admins for the registration link. It's either you were a doctor, a professor, architect, artist, or a CEO (like me). I never wanted to try the app, but since I don't mix any of my shits anymore, but only hard sex. I gave it a try.
The app was intended for professional chat only, but I say, screw the rules. My one protocol was to get their personal number so I could call them.
And I had Ericka's number.
"Why don't you just give me your address and your real name? I'm tired of just talking to you over the phone."
She laughed, deliciously. I just liked hearing her voice. "We'll never meet. It's impossible. Besides, I'm busy."
"I don't care anymore about your excuses. Would you like to know my address and my name? I just moved in."
"I don't know why you're in Cambridge right now, but I'm not interested. I can't lose a friend when you only want is one night, and then you're done. You're going to throw me away, just like the others."
"I'm very sure that it won't be just one night for us, " I admitted. "I can make an exception since you've gained my trust."
"Oh, really? This should be good."
"Yes, so what tell me? I'll be willing to come and get you."
"I don't think so. Hey, I need to go Jax."
"Wait! Okay. I'm giving you a week. If you don't show yourself to me, I'm done talking with you."
She chuckled. "I'm sure you won't do that."
"I am sure that I would."
"No, you won't."
"Why not?"
"Because you like the sound of my voice."
"I'm pretty sure I like the sound of you, moaning." I sighed. "Look, I can't continue our friendship like this. I need to see you. One week, Ericka."
"I can't. I'm going to New York to see my parents this week. Did you remember? It's been a long time since I last saw my mother."
"That's good then. I'll put New York to my schedule this week, and then I'll meet you. I'll take you to New York."
Silence.
"Ericka?"
"What? I don't know. I can't promise."
"Listen to me very carefully. I'm very good at tracking people. I could find anyone in just one blink and the only reason I wasn't doing it because I respected that you're not ready. But, this isn't going anywhere. I need to be buried inside you. I would like to hear you scream my name, my real name, and devour every inch of you. If you don't say yes, I'm going to find you."
I heard her skipping a breath. "Don't you think it's illegal?"
"I will take every risk."
"Jax, " she called. "Okay, but not this week but next two weeks. Please? This week is a bad time."
"Done. Fourteen days and you will tell me your address. Fourteen fucking days, Ericka or we're done."
"Okay! Okay! Stop intimidating me."
"Good. That's good then, Ericka. Good night."
As the CEO of Sebastian Pictures, I have power and authority. I was the one who called the shots, constantly in the spotlight. I was meant to be the man in charge. Until I met Eloise, she was a junior art director at my subsidiary company. She also happened to be my best friend’s ex-girlfriend. To her, I was Mr. Dangerous in a suit—her new boss. For me, she was a challenge I couldn’t resist. I was used to getting what I wanted. I craved to own her, possess her. Now, we’d gotten ourselves tangled in a game where neither of us could win. But here’s the thing: the more we played, the more she turned the tables. She had me breaking my own rules.
I’m always determined to follow my dreams. My life is going better than expected, and I’m on the verge of success. Until I’m not. Professor Sebastian radiates an irresistible heat of refined sophistication. With just one look into his ocean-blue eyes, everything I believe in comes crashing down. I try to keep my distance because we can’t be more, but whenever I’m with him, gravity pulls me in deeper. Only one kiss. Just one touch. They are all it will take to cross the line.
Powerful. Steadfast. New York’s most eligible bachelor. Rafael Sebastian had been labeled every good and wicked thing in the corporate world. At the stage of my heartbreak from my failed marriage, I literally ran into him as a stranger that hit my hot buttons at first sight, a man who left me breathless with a single word and an irresistible smile. He made me feel better, and I confided in him more than I should. Our chemical connection was almost overwhelming, and the desires were unstoppable. To relieve ourselves from the intense tension igniting us—he had a proposition. A tempting but dangerous answer to our perplexing situation. But could I really live a life painted with lies? I know this was a bad idea, but that was something I’d think about later…
"I am a monster, Miss Hart. You wouldn't want nor wish to see me..." He is mysterious and brilliant, wealthy and prominent, but no single soul has seen him in person. Well, no one should see him-that's one of his many rules. No one can touch him either; that's another rule. Except for me because I have broken every rule. Now I'm extremely drawn to him. His peculiarity is out of this world, and his beauty is beyond physical. But the Master has demons of his own and is being chased by his brutal past. Suddenly, we've become the reflection of each other's nightmares. I realize that the Master and I are not so different. Is this newly found bond just another uncertain fate that could deepen our wounds, or is it finally going to be our redemption?
Steamy Billionaire Stories Collection Mr. Untouchable Mr. Beautiful How to Seduce a Billionaire
Audrey was sixteen when we were supposed to run away and leave everything behind-her family who resented and the extravagant lifestyle she had always known since she was born. But before I could claim her body, I decided to bring her back, and that was when death came after me. Nonetheless, I survived and reclaimed myself. I become a man above anyone else. I became a billionaire. After eight years, I saw Audrey again. She came into my company for an interview-an executive assistant interview. But no matter how I tell myself that I should move on from the agony she caused me, and make her pay and suffer for what she did, I still fucking want her, own her, and claim her.
A sudden twist of fate connected Helena to a prominent and influential person. To onlookers, she appeared as a naive bimbo. In truth, she was a top-tier specialist, shrouded in layers of hidden identities. Charlie declared, “She’s quite delicate and easily hurt. Cross her, and you’re crossing me.” The elite families, outwitted by Helena's prowess, kept these truths from him. Helena eventually broke free from Charlie, sending him on a frenzied worldwide hunt. To him, she was a bird with dazzling wings, and his goal was to help her reach new heights.
"Carroll Brown is dead! But you have to marry him in your sister's name." My mother said to me in a cold tone. My sister was engaged to the hottest billionaire. It should have been a perfect marriage. Unexpectedly, Carroll was dead in an accident. My sister didn't want to become a widow, so she forced me to marry her dead fiance. And I had no right to refuse her. Actually, I was the biological daughter of the Smith family. My sister was an adoptive one. My sister and I had been swapped at the hospital when we were just born. My parents had already had a deep relationship with her. So they chose to sacrifice me. On the wedding day, I was taken to the mourning hall. "Ma'am, please keep Master company and let him feel warm." The housekeeper said with a cold expression. I couldn't help but look up at the portrait above the coffin, and my heart skipped a beat at this glance. The man in the portrait was more handsome than the superstars in Hollywood. Carroll Brown? My dead husband? Wow, he was really handsome! I didn't know how long had passed when my stomach began to rebel. After one glance at the coffin, I swallowed my saliva and then begged with my fingers crossed. "Mr. Carroll, I'm starving! May I eat your pastries? You don't mind, do you?" "I do." "Ah!" Scared, I broke out in a cold sweat. My legs went limp, and I fell to the ground. I shouted, "Ghost!" Carroll curled his lips, leaned over, and touched the black coffin. "Mr. Carroll has risen from the dead. What do you think of this headline tomorrow?"
Janice, the long-forgotten legitimate heiress, made her way back to her family, pouring her heart into winning their hearts. Yet, she had to relinquish her very identity, her academic credentials, and her creative works to her foster sister. In return for her sacrifices, she found no warmth, only deeper neglect. Resolute, Janice vowed to cut off all emotional bonds. Transformed, she now stood as a master of martial arts, adept in eight languages, an esteemed medical expert, and a celebrated designer. With newfound resolve, she declared, "From this day forward, no one in this family shall cross me."
"You're a creepy bastard." His eyes smolder me and his answering grin is nothing short of beautiful. Deadly. "Yet you hunger for me. Tell me, this appetite of yours, does it always tend toward 'creepy bastards'?" **** Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor. It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it was an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict. He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide. He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits. But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered on madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned. There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him. * When Susanna flees from her husband, she stumbles right into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare. He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now wanted her dead. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She should have recalled that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her away to Italy. Maybe then, she wouldn't have started an affair with him. He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.
“Drive this woman out!” "Throw this woman into the sea!” When he doesn’t know Debbie Nelson’s true identity, Carlos Hilton cold-shoulders her. “Mr. Hilton, she is your wife,” Carlos’ secretary reminded him. Hearing that, Carlos gives him a cold stare and complained, “why didn’t you tell me earlier?” From then on, Carlos spoils her rotten. Little did everyone expect that they would get a divorce.
As a simple assistant, messaging the CEO in the dead of night to request shares of adult films was a bold move. Bethany, unsurprisingly, didn't receive any films. However, the CEO responded that, while he had no films to share, he could offer a live demonstration. After a night filled with passion, Bethany was certain she'd lose her job. But instead, her boss proposed, "Marry me. Please consider it." "Mr. Bates, you're kidding me, right?"