Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
No, my husband is as starved for my body as ever. More so. His lunch break begins in eight minutes and he made it clear over the phone that I’m on the menu.
My nipples tighten to points inside my dress and I press down a little more on the accelerator, my breath quickening. He took me against the shower wall this morning. So hard that I screamed and drew blood on his back. But we’re insatiable. Most nights he’s barely in the door from work before he’s barking at his mother to take the twins outside to play.
I let out a long exhale and command myself to focus on the road. Crashing wouldn’t be ideal, would it?
The four-year deadline set by my father came and went without us even noticing. My trust fund? I don’t need it.
Ezra had been working on new ideas while in prison and he used them to shake up the automotive industry. His company uses different, sustainable materials to create sleeker parts at lower cost and his empire grew into a behemoth almost overnight. In other words, when we occasionally meet my father for dinner in Manhattan, Ezra picks up the check.
Still he doesn’t fit in with the elite world in which I was raised.
No, he’s self-made. He’s fierce. He’s better than all of them.
And he’s all mine.
I flex my fingers on the wheel and the diamond on my finger catches the light. Do I like having all the luxuries he’s given me? Sure, who wouldn’t? I rest easy at night knowing our children will never want for anything.
Would I give it all up and follow Ezra anywhere? Would I go back to living in a one-bedroom apartment in the city? In a heartbeat. I’ll live any life as long as he lives it with me.
I had the idea for my very own business inside the four walls of that first, little apartment. Ezra was so driven to succeed that I was bitten by the entrepreneurial bug myself. We had a nice nest egg to start off, thanks to Ezra’s colleagues’ debt of gratitude, but most of it went toward getting the car parts business off the ground. Still, when I told Ezra I wanted to start my own dark chocolate brand, he made sure to set aside the capital.
Years later, Ophelia’s Chocolate is beginning to expand. I have several orders to fulfill for major food retailers and interest grows daily. Ezra’s need to keep me safe and close to home led to him building an industrial kitchen and packaging room on our property, so I can leave my employees to their work and spend time with our children with ease.
I’m so grateful for every single moment of this life. It’s almost too perfect to be real.
Minutes later, I walk into my husband’s office and close the door without a sound, leaning back against it and just looking at him. His huge shoulders fill out the button-down dress shirt completely, testing the seams. His dark blond hair is pulled back in a small bun at the base of his neck and that beard—the one that leaves chafe marks on the insides of my thighs—is close cut and sprinkled with gray.
When Ezra spots me, he stops mid-sentence and hangs up the phone call he’s on, standing slowly behind his desk. Behind him, the wall of windows overlooks the acres of land on which his business sits. Workers rush between buildings and trucks, loading parts for delivery. But I only notice them out of my periphery, because I can’t take my eyes off Ezra. He rakes a hand over his open mouth and looks me over, the same way he looked at me when he’d just gotten out of prison. “That a new dress, little girl?” He reaches down and adjusts his manhood. “Come over here and let me take a closer look.”
I set down my purse and cross the room, sidling between my husband’s big body and the desk’s edge. He crowds me until I’m forced to slide my butt up onto the ledge—and honestly, I would be more than happy for him to rip my panties off, plow his thick shaft into me and take me hard. But my husband seems intent on savoring me. His fingers undo the buttons of my new, cream-colored dress slowly, until he can push it aside and palm my bare breasts.
“How do you get more beautiful every time I see you?” Ezra breathes, dipping his head to suck my nipples, one by one. “It’s a mystery how I’ve managed to build this business when I sit here thinking of you every goddamn second of the day.”
“I think of you, too. Every second—” I murmur, but I’m cut off by his ravenous mouth.
He shoves the hem of my dress up to my waist, pulling me closer to the edge of the desk and I spread my legs open, how he likes. His rough hands mold my breasts and I whimper into his mouth, begging him without words to make love to me. When he merely sucks in oxygen and dives back into another kiss, I whine in my throat and unzip his pants, sliding my hand inside to stroke his cock.