The Seduction 4 | |
The Seduction [4] | |
Roxy Sloane | |
Roxy Sloane Books (2014) | |
Tags: | The Seduction |
*Warning: Vaughn is going to give it to you harder & hotter than ever! The explosive final installment in the scandalous serial.
There's not a woman in the world who won't spread her legs for me.
Admit it, you're already wet, imagining my hands gripping tight around your wrists, holding you down. Showing you what a real man's cock feels like buried all the way to the fucking hilt.
I was the Seducer, the best damn night of your life. But all that's behind me. Now I only want one thing.
My secrets destroyed her. My quest for revenge tore us apart. But now I know she's in danger, there's nothing I won't do to keep her safe.
This girl is everything to me, and I won't stop until I claim her completely.
Her body.
Her mind.
Her heart.
The Seduction 4
Part
4 of a filthy,
seductive new serial
BY
ROXY SLOANE
For exclusive giveaways, and secrets
of the series sign-up for my
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Copyright
2014 Roxy Sloane
Cover
Photo: Dylan Borgman
Cover
Design: Louisa Maggio at LM Creations
This is a work
of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are
products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead,
is entirely coincidental.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
You want to know how a woman tastes when she comes?
Delicious.
Don’t give me that
bullshit about lockjaw. Those guys who can’t deal with going down
on a woman, they’re the pussies. A real man gives as good as he
gets, and you can be sure that if I’ve been thrusting my cock into
a pair of tight, wet lips, I’m going to be doing the same damn
thing with my tongue soon enough.
And I’m not talking
about her mouth.
Yeah, there’s an art
to making a woman scream the fucking house down, and I’m the
master. The Michaelangelo of eating pussy. See, you’ve got to make
her beg for it, tease her clit with soft, slow licks, find the
rhythm, never once let up. Probe into her cunt to taste all that
sweetness, and don’t think that’s all it’s going to take. Your
fingers are welcome to that slick, juicy party.
Hell, they’re the
guests of finger-fucking honor.
Feel the way she bears
down on you when you slide them in just right? That’s it. She’s
getting closer. Grinding against your hand, clenching your head in
her thighs so tight she could cut off air supply. But you don’t
give her what she wants, not just yet. Hold her down and take it
slow. Better yet, tie her to the bed while you torment her with more
of those long, slow licks, another deep, sliding plunge inside.
Feels good, doesn’t
it? Making her beg, feeling her body shudder at your command. Yeah,
there’s nothing submissive about being down there between her
thighs. You’re the one in control now.
And when she’s
desperate, writhing and mewling, cursing your name and demanding you
just throw her down and fuck her already? That’s when you finally
give her what she needs. Thrust your fingers deeper, stretch that
tight little pussy all the way. Devour her clit, suck it hard and
keep on sucking. Don’t let up, don’t show her mercy, and soon
enough she’ll comes screaming like she just saw God.
Because if she looked
down, she just did.
That’s the moment
that turns me on every time. Feeling her cunt clench around me, that
hot rush of sweetness. When she’s gone, out of fucking control, and
I’m the only one who got her there.
Yeah, I’ve tasted
some sweet pussies in my time. But nothing has ever been as good at
her.
Keely Fawes.
That woman can undo me
like no one else. The feel of her luscious body, the friction of my
cock buried deep inside her tight, wet cunt. But more than that, it’s
the way she looks when she’s falling over the edge, the shock of
her surrender as her body unravels, the ecstasy on that beautiful
face. It hits me every time.
She was supposed to be
just another job: a random girl to fuck, at my client’s command.
But she played hard to get; she demanded more from me than just a
night of cheap sex. She wanted to see who I really was behind all the
expensive suits and dirty talk. She trusted me when she had no
reason. She saw the good in me, the man I could have been in another
life, under different circumstance. And dammit, if I didn’t let my
defenses crack.
One tiny hairline
fracture, and it shattered my whole world.
I swore I would use her
as revenge, but she’s the one who destroyed me in the end. She
found out I was hired to seduce her; now she’s shut me out, sent me
away for good, but I can’t forget her.
I won’t just walk
away.
She’s in danger and I
have to protect her. I have to make her see I’ve changed. All for
her.
Even if I die trying.
KEELY
“If we move the
Jurgen meeting to Thursday, can you get those notes typed up and
filed ASAP? And tell my three o’clock I need to move him to five.
Oh, and call Miami and tell them maybe on the new project, but I need
to see the projections again.”
“...Projections...
Got it.” My assistant, Sandra, scribbles quickly in her notebook.
“Can I get you anything. Water, aspirin?” She frowns at me,
concerned. “You should really be taking it easy, after what
happened.”
“I’m fine,” I
protest. “The doctors gave me the all-clear days ago. Just a few
bruises. Tell her, Cam,” I add, seeing my second-in-command enter
my office.
Cam laughs, answering
with a faint Scottish accent. “It’ll take more than a tumble to
dent this one,” he reassures Sandra with a charming grin. “She’s
made of sterner stuff.”
Sandra doesn’t look
convinced. “That hotel should be sued,” she says, “Leaving wet
stairs with no signs. It’s a wonder you didn’t kill yourself,
slipping like that.”
Cam and I exchange a
look. The truth is, it wasn’t water that sent me tumbling down a
steep flight of concrete steps. But until we know who pushed me that
night, we’re sticking to our story. Things are bad enough with the
press without them knowing there’s someone out to hurt me.
Not that my unnamed
assailant did the real damage that night. A fractured rib and minor
concussion was nothing compared to the agony of my broken heart.
Even now, I feel a
shock of pain just thinking about him. Vaughn. I still can’t
believe the man I trusted was actually a paid employee of my rival,
Brent, hired to seduce me. But I had no choice but to accept the
truth -- especially with the evidence right there in front of me in
the grainy security footage of our very own sex tape. Brent wanted to
use the video to force me out of the company, but I called his bluff
and refused to resign.
I haven’t heard from
him since, but I’m not so foolish to think he’s given up on
replacing me yet.
“She’s right,”
Cam says, as soon as Sandra leaves.
“Not you too,” I
sigh. “I told you both, I feel fine. A couple of days cooped up in
that hospital room was more than enough. I have a company to run,
remember?”
A company that can’t
risk any more negative publicity -- not with our share price still
unstable, and hostile takeover bids ready to pounce.
“No, I mean, you
could have been killed.” Cam frowns. “We don’t know who tried
to hurt you -- or why. And that means we can’t stop them trying
again.”
I give Cam a careful
look. Even he’s not above my suspicion now. He was my father’s
closest advisor, and my life support since I inherited the company,
but until I have proof who’s out to harm me, I can’t be too
careful.
“I’ve got extra
security here at the office and twenty-four-seven surveillance at my
apartment,” I try to reassure him. “Trust me, Sandra would tackle
anyone to the ground before they got through that door.”
Cam manages a chuckle.
“I can see there’s no convincing you to stay home any longer. Are
you ready for lunch?”
“Just a minute.” I
check my schedule, trying to remember if there’s anything I’m
missing. My life as CEO of Ashcroft Industries is so hectic these
days, it sometimes makes me miss the time when all I had to worry
about was transcribing notes for my asshole of a boss, Carter, or
studying for the LSAT -- for the fifteenth time.
My phone goes just as
I’m heading out the door. I glance at the screen and freeze.
Vaughn.
He’s been calling
non-stop, showing up at the office, demanding to see me. I can’t
bear the thought of being in the same room as him. When I think about
how I trusted him, how I opened myself up and let myself be
vulnerable for the first time.
The wicked things he
did with my body. The pleasure I enjoyed at his masterful command.
But it’s over. Those
days are behind me now.
I hit the button to
ignore his call, and make a mental note to change my number. Then I
tuck my phone away and turn to Cam with a bright, fake smile. “Let’s
go!”
* * *
Lunch is downtown, at
whatever the latest hot new restaurant is today. We don’t have
reservations, but just one mention of the name ‘Ashcroft’ and
we’re ushered past the line and shown to the best table in the
house.
“Not too shabby.”
Cam grins, holding out my chair for me. I sit, looking around. It’s
full of white linen tablecloths and New York’s business elite, and
just a few weeks ago I would have been nervous to be the center of
attention, feeling all eyes on me.
Now, I see familiar
faces. I smile and wave at some, acknowledge others with nods. It’s
all part of the plan, the PR offensive Cam and I designed to reassure
everyone that the new head of Ashcroft Industries is in control and
safe behind the wheel. Lunches, dinner parties, galas and mixers: an
exhausting schedule that has me shaking hands and making small-talk
with all the big investors and financiers we need to keep on board if
I have any hope of holding off those takeover bids.
A few people come over
to the table, paying their regards and enquiring after my health. “I
heard you were in a coma,” one society wife gasps, her forehead not
moving from all the Botox.
“Lord, no,” I
laugh. “Just a sprained ankle. That’ll teach me not to break in
new shoes before a big event!”
“Nicely played,”
Cam murmurs as the couple move off.
“I’m learning.” I
take a breath, hoping that the show is over, and I can have just a
few minutes to relax. But just as I’m sipping my water, a hush
falls over the restaurant. People start to whisper, looking over at
me with gossip in their eyes.
“What’s happening?”
I ask Cam in a low voice. “Do I have something stuck in my teeth?”
Before he can reply, a
shadow looms over me from behind.
“Keely! What a
coincidence,” the voice booms out. I look up, and my heart drops.
It’s Brent.
He’s dressed in a
flashy designer suit, smiling down at me with a smarmy grin. Behind
him, his adopted sister, Isabelle, and my ass of an ex-boss Carter
wait like trained puppies on their master’s command.
“How are you doing,
sis?” Brent asks, loud enough for the whole room to hear. “You
shouldn’t be out and about so soon, after a major head injury like
that. Is your memory coming back yet?” he adds, frowning with fake
concern.
“Brent, always joking
around,” I laugh, getting up. I have force myself to hug and kiss
him on the cheek, painfully aware that we’re the center of
attention here. “It’s great you’re back in the country. Wasn’t
there that nasty business with customs out of South America?”
Brent echoes my fake
laugh. “I guess this family likes living life on the edge.”
I try not to shudder. I
never knew Ashcroft was my father while he was alive, and Brent
Isabelle and I are related by law, not blood, but still it freaks me
out to hear him talk about us all as family.
Still, I know what he’s
doing: trying to show we’re all just one happy group, while
secretly plotting to kick me out of the company. He already tried to
blackmail me by recording a secret sex tape of me and Vaughn. Who
knows what else he’s capable of?