"What did you say?" he inquired.

"I don't want you."

He twisted my nipple.

Painful pleasure raced from my nipple to my clit. My legs buckled when I screamed. Nervous hands dropped purse and contract.

Luke King said, "Don't lie."

He stroked his fingers over my body but avoided my flesh, as if it might hurt him. His kisses traveled over my sweater, waist, and hip. His hands found the delicate wrinkles where my ass met my thighs. He scratched my legs with dull fingernails. They were hardly noticeable through my jeans.

I wanted to put his face in my crotch. I wanted his mouth and cock. I hovered my hands near his hair and ears, frightened to touch him.

His nose grazed my hip and jeans. He stopped at my thighs and inhaled.

He leaned on the glass behind me. His lips caressed my ear and he went closer until I felt his cock in his pants against my belly.

He said, "I can smell you."

"Your pussy begs me to fuck it." His furnace-hot body hovered over mine, and his erection pushed against my stomach.

"Sign the deal and get whatever you want." He massaged his cock over me, almost touching my pussy. My underwear was drenched with juice. His lips brushed my throat, stopping my heart.

Where he touched me, flames licked my flesh. I grasped his shoulders. Under his white linen shirt, he had strong planes and tremendous muscle. My hands clinched as he ran his fingertips along my sweater's hem. Then, slowly, he slipped them under and caressed my stomach.

I tried to stop him. He wouldn't stop.

He pressed his palm on my abdomen and slid his hand under my jeans' waistband and elastic.

I drooped and shoved his hand. He split my outer lips and slid his fingers along my slit, but he didn't touch my swelling clit.

His fingers were coated in my juices. His other two fingers skimmed my slit, but didn't touch.

I tried to trap him with my hips, but he avoided me. He murmured into my skin and scraped his teeth on my collarbone.

He muttered, "Beg me to take you." His voice shook my bones. "Beg me to fuck you on the couch."

I spoke before thinking. I whispered, "Yes."

"Please."

I left my dignity behind as I grabbed my handbag and contract. I didn't straighten my hair before bursting through the double glass doors. Instead, I went for the wooden doors and burst through them.

As I ran to the elevator, I shuffled clumsily. The doors opened when I slammed my hand on the button. I fell in, and they started to fall.

My clitch was exposed as I reached inside my pants and parted my pussy lips. While one hand slithered beneath my ragged sweater and bra strap, I stroked my fingertip furiously in rapid circles to stimulate the nerve endings. To satiate my hunger, I gripped my breasts and tapped my nipple. It seemed as if my body was on fire as my legs collapsed and I lurched against the railing. Sobbing, I let out an audible gasp as my cheeks became heated and flushed.

As I drew fluid from my slippery folds across my clit, my hips collapsed. I startled as I envisioned Luke King's huge, rough hands grabbing hold of me in the dark. When the waves of pleasure slammed into me and threatened to draw me into a deep, hungry ocean, my back arched and I screamed.

My whole body seemed to contract during my orgasm, my hungry passage squeezing around nothing. Insufficient. Insufficient. I couldn't fuck him. I almost sobbed with disappointment as my body spasmed.

Before I could pull my hand out of my pants, the elevator doors opened.

In the foyer, businessmen waited. and I just managed to escape.

In an elevator, I masturbated.

Gulping, I wiped my sticky fingers on the inside of my sweater and left.

I took three wrong turns in the lunch crowd before finding the bus station. I buried my face in my hands and tried to think when I boarded . My fingers smelled like my own juices, reminding me of my salacious behavior. When I got home, my feelings were slim pickings

The next morning, I was nursing a hangover in a lawyer's office.

I was still drunk...

After my encounter with Luke King and embarrassing elevator display, I felt dazed and useless.

I sat down, opened the contract, and read for 10 minutes. I'm a mature problem-solver. My father left me ten voicemails during my meeting with Luke King, which I deleted.

I needed a lawyer, so I went. I wanted to know if it was binding, If I sign.

I had to look up a few to make sure they were correct.

I shifted in my chair as I stared at the contract in my lap. It was illegal. 95 percent sure. If I didn't "play the submissive" in 75 percent of our sexual encounters, he couldn't sue me. Perhaps. He'd keep track? A vision of King bending me over a table and fucking me while recording it made me giggle, then set my cheeks on fire when I remembered he had told me to beg him to fuck me that way.

I liked having a female lawyer. My needs were important.

"GREEN?"

A handsome paralegal stood in the doorway.

I slung my purse and contract over my shoulder. I entered unsteadily.

Lawyers annoyed me. My law-studying friends aren't lawyers. Most became baristas instead of lawyers. My father used the law to exploit people whose only crime was ignorance, need, or poverty.

So I entered Ms. Stock's office with trepidation, and when she smiled and shook my hand, my brain screamed.It's a trap!

"Hello, Ms. Green. "She said. She lacked lawyer's bearings. Her iron-colored hair was white-streaked, and her eyes were dark.

"What, your fiance?"

"Yes. I'm his bride."

She frowned. "Wanna wed him?"

"We had many issues."

Finally, she motioned for me to sit, and I gratefully did. She read the contract opposite me.

She folded her hands over the contract. She was confused. Still recovering from last night's abuse, my stomach clenched and I shrank.

"Miss Green, This contract is unique. I assume your reasons are good, but this contract isn't binding."

"A loophole? Can I marry and divorce him?

Her twisting lips told me her answer wasn't simple. "It's a strict prenup. Divorcing Mr. King won't help. If he wants certain freedoms and a contract, he may end the marriage."

"Prenuptial agreements cannot enforce sexual provisions because one spouse's refusal would make the sexual interaction rape, and the law cannot condone nor enforce rape. This clause is invalid if King sues you."

"Would that nullify the contract?

"Nope. Severability clause. Mr. King can end your marriage for any reason if you sign this contract, and you'll only have your assets. Both sides need loyalty. You'll get a personal, job, and project allowance, You'd get little if King dies. He may have included a clause saying if you have sex with another man,you have to pay him a billion times what he offers to you , and nothing you can get even if he dies."

"Bugfuck," I said.

"Miss Green, may I be honest?"

She signed it. "This contract isn't perverted"

"Oh?"

"Yes. I've never seen an animal or human sex clause"

She crumpled papers. " He gives everything you can from him. This marriage could launch your career or make you wealthy. He's the perfect husband. You'd be better off divorced." "Why not if

I rubbed my forehead to think. The logic was bad. I hated nonsense. I wanted her to tell me the contract was invalid. I could have divorced King, saved my mother with his money.

Despite her encouragement, I hesitated.

"No contract charge?"

"I could probably edit it for free.  List me as your prenup consultant if asked.

"No problem," she said. "Adapt if you marry Luke King." She sat up and opened contract page 2. "Divide property"

By the time I got home and showered, I was ready to take on Luke King. I wouldn't accept this. I called Empire Capital to talk to Luke King.

When I discovered I was a VIP in the Empire, I volunteered my name.

"Oh!" I felt terrible for the receptionist who sounded like she was having a heart attack.

"Mr. King is out of the office, I'll give you his mobile so you can call him."

King had given specific instructions to give me his number if I called.

Unnerved, I wrote down his number and hung up.

Second call was less exciting than first.

I phoned Luke, put the phone on speaker, and hid it so I wouldn't hang up, take a taxi to the airport, and purchase a one-way ticket to Lyon. After two rings, his deep voice said, "Luke King."

I was speechless. All the things I wanted to say became jumbled, and I couldn't decide where to start.

He said, "Miss Green."

I said, "Why are people so nice?"

He added, "I told them we may marry."

I burst into tears. "What?" I hadn't told my closest pals, and he'd sent a company-wide letter.

I twitched my head towel nervously. Hearing his voice, even through my mobile phone speakers, brought back memories of yesterday, when he trapped me in his office and shoved me against the wall.

"Have you considered my offer?"The hand fiddling with the towel on my head moved to the sensitive spot between my thighs.

I didn't pull away. His deep voice made me slippery.

"I saw a lawyer," I said.

He responded, "Good." "Happy. Signing legal papers requires legal guidance.

Yeah. "She said to marry if the sex was fantastic. "While I chatted on the phone, my middle finger circled my clit. "Uh-huh. I have edited some clauses."

The stillness was longer than I anticipated this time.

I heard him sigh and rustle. "Let's meet."

"Okay. Where?"

"Lunchtime is near."

"Let's have lunch."

My hand froze and my anxieties soared. "Alright. Where?"

This time, his sneer made me even more uneasy. "I'll send a vehicle"

He hung up before I could finish.

I regarded my phone. I quickly phoned his telephone but got voice mail.

The contract on my coffee table caught my attention. He was submissive, wasn't he?

"Ass!" I remarked aloud, but it was impossible to discern whether I was calling King an ass or remarking on the circumstance.

I leapt up, shedding towel and bathrobe.

He knew my address.

The fact that a fancy-ass black vehicle came up to my low-rent apartment reminded me that he knew where I lived. The thought that he could locate me anytime he wanted gave me the goosebumps.

I inhaled and raised my chin.

Luke King's driver took a tiny double-take when he spotted me.

I don't like to dress up, therefore I had some terrible clothes in college. Blake skirt contrasted with orange top, which showed too much cleavage.

I didn't have time to straighten my hair, but I felt alright.

Driver Cole said, "Ma'am.I'm here to help."

I said "thanks" and entered.

The car's inside was nicer than its beautiful outside. Buttery leather seats stroked my thighs through my fishnets.

"Where are we going?" I questioned the driver.

" Mr. King instructed to keep our lunch plans secret. "

He looked ashamed in the mirror. "I should drive around first," he added.

He seemed disturbed.

I replied, "Don't worry."

I observed the city to relax, but I was more tired than I expected. Yesterday's rash driving put me to sleep. The door waking me awake.

When he said, "Here we are, ma'am," the driver's eyes were sad. I was ecstatic.

He helped me out of the car, and I pretended to repair my clothes and tried to figure out where I was.

I was surprised I wasn't at a fancy sushi bar or French café. I entered.

Inside, Luke King waited. He halted me despite my half-readiness.

Dammit. I'd forgotten how handsome he was.

His broad lips quivered in a faint smile when he saw me, and I felt like his emerald eyes were staring through me.

I tried to flip my hair arrogantly, but my high heels made me wobble.

Luke King grabbed my ass before I collapsed and pulled me close. His sleek, powerful physique pulsed with energy as he looked at me.

He warned, "Be careful." He released me softly.

I clasped my purse strap like a talisman and stared at him. He lowered his hand gracefully and entered the dining room. I followed.

We navigated the restaurant. Some stopped eating and stared as he passed, but most ignored him.

We were placed at a small booth in the dining room's back. I chose one side and put my suitcase next to me to discourage him from sharing my seat, but he didn't try. Instead, he sat across from me, poured two enormous glasses of red wine, and ordered the asparagus salad for both of us.

He said, "You'll have asparagus."  I watched as he shook out and folded his napkin.I followed suit, although the tablecloth seemed long enough to act as a napkin. I adjusted it and draped it over my skirt.

King sat across from me, one arm on the booth, head cocked arrogantly.I was waging a losing war, not with King, but with myself.Luke King's sexiness was to blame.

He sighed. "You hung up before I asked what to wear."

"You choose this?"

I glanced down, feigning astonishment.

Before he could speak, the waitress brought our sandwiches. She chirped at him, but I wasn't listening. I was intrigued by his careful wineglass strokes. I didn't know he'd ordered my lunch until the waitress left.

"Miss Green, you're provoking me."

I re-eyed him. His look cut me deep.

"Maybe."

He reclined. "Why dress like a prostitute?"

"That's what I'll be, right?"

"No. You're my wife."

I scowled. I disagree, and I doubt many others would if they knew the reality. I'd rather be honest with you."

"You know who I am, Miss Green. This is just to shame me."

I handed out the amended contract with unsteady fingers. Luke King leaned back and flipped through it slowly. Ms. Stock underlined the revisions in the contract, so he lingered over each one while drinking wine. He looked up sometimes.

He rested. "None of these changes are very drastic," he said.

I'd been trying to ignore him and decide what to eat first, when he said.

He ate carefully. "Minor adjustments."

" Major modifications include a one-year contract review and renewal. I approve." He observed me for a while, then hailed a passing waiter.

He requested a pen.

Luke King initialed, signed, and dated each phrase and page in front of me using a ballpoint pen.

I drank my wine.

"Can't you sign today?"

"I..." My mind whirled. A Bic ballpoint would transform my life. My father would be back in business, while my mother would be through treatment.

My eyesight clouded. I attempted to breathe deeply, but my chest felt heavy.

"Miss Green?"

I saw a movement opposite me.

I didn't know what to do until I felt the booth lower and he slipped in next to me, concealing from the dining area.

He felt warm and powerful.I became jittery. My heartbeat quickened.

He said, "Don't pretend." He poured me more wine.

I responded, "No thanks."

He handed me wine and urged me to drink. I put his glass down.

He shook his head as I passed by. He replied, "I Like seeing you touch yourself in my elevator while thinking about me."

I panicked. He approached as I tensed. He kissed my ear.

"Don't be so smug," I shouted as he kissed my earlobe. "I haven't sex in six months-oh..."

Luke King's hot, gentle lips brushed on my pulse.

Under him, I shivered. Panting, I gripped the tablecloth to prevent from touching him back. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to taste him so badly.

"Our marriage would be mutually advantageous," he remarked. "You may like it,"

"No one likes forced sex for money," I said.

He grinned and brushed my hair. He kissed my throat and neck tenderly.

"I never force. Always desire."

My chest contorted. I knew but couldn't say it.

His breath warmed my neck. "Think I can't satisfy you? So? "

His words sank into my skin and bones, igniting me. How could I tell him that orgasms weren't my main concern?

His leg touched mine. I wished I'd worn trousers instead of a skirt because of his body heat. His fingers traced trembling patterns on my thigh. Lips and tongue danced with my delicate neck, and his fingers skimmed my breast swell. My thighs felt hot and wet.

"I could make you climax here," he hoarsely whispered.

"You'll scream,"

His statements infuriated me. "Try," I murmured.

Pulling back, he smiled again. "You're perfect," he remarked. " His fingertips tickled my leg and skirt. My throat was lumpy.

One long, hot finger touched my pussy's soft mound, distracting me.

I was still looking at the space where he had been and trying to summon the presence of mind to respond when I felt his enormous, hot hands on my knees.

He was squatting beneath the table, concealed by the huge table cloth.

.But my thighs split with the smallest touch from his hands, and I opened to him.

Slowly, slowly, one long finger penetrated me. I convulsed around him.

"Miss, do you need anything?"

The waitress was lingering at the table, staring at me strangely. She must've known.

My inner finger and toes curled.

"No!"

"Nothing. Thanks!"

She looked me oddly. "Lunch is coming. "

Luke King shifted beneath the table. Rough cheeks grazed my thighs.

OMG. No way!

"Ma'am?" Waitress asked, "You look sick."

I said, "Hangover a little, nothing."

I grabbed the wine glass I'd refused to mask my desperation.

Luke King sucked my clit and licked it.

I scarcely noticed when my hand knocked over my drink. I had just enough self-control to hide my head in my arms and cry into the table. As he suckled on my clit, lights erupted against my eyes. My knees curved over his shoulders, bringing him to me as I trembled with delight. The smooth, hazy roughness of his tongue tugged my clit and me into his lips. I felt like I could dissolve where I sat and be consumed without caring.

My whole body went numb as he licked back and forth between the two labia flaps with a delicate tongue. Then he alternated between inserting and removing his tongue from between my labia flap and the gutter.

He didn't stop even as I descended the heights moaning. As I looked around the restaurant, I felt everyone's eyes on me, and the humiliation sharpened my pleasure like a whetstone.

I raised my head. I looked at the waitress with a blushed face.

We exchanged lengthy glances. She knew. And I knew she knew.

I did my best. I covered my lips and held my stomach. I gasped, "Mr. King went to the bathroom.  Could you help me... find him?"