Page 13 of Possessive CEO

“Boss says you can take the day off.”

She laughs and her happiness is infectious. “No, I can’t.”

I sit and pull her up, heart drumming hard enough to hurt at how beautiful she looks with her messy hair and flushed face. “Fine. But we have a gala to attend later this evening, so you might wanna get off work early to prepare.”

“What gala?”

“It’s an annual thing. Basically, just people who want to kiss my ass and ask for stuff.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Yeah, well. I much prefer spending the night buried to the hilt inside you, but it is what it is.”

She stands up, her nightgown hiking up, and I grab one asscheek and squeeze it. She spanks my hand away and pads to the bathroom, swaying her hips seductively. Fuck, I can’t wait to end this day with my tool inside her.

* * *

Since graduating college,my life revolved around work. I woke up thinking of all I needed to do at the office, and I went to bed going through all the proposals and deals made. That was it for me.

Sitting in my office and listening to Reynolds ramble on, my mind isn’t on any of the investors, projects, or meetings. It’s on Emily. It has been since the moment I first saw her. She’s been occupying my mental real estate, even lurking in the perimeters of my mind as I sign documents, meet with my board, or something else.

I will give her the world. For far too long, I’ve worked tirelessly. For what, really? So my family’s empire will grow? It already has. We’re sitting on one of the most profitable companies in the world, raking in billions of earnings in a year. I make in an hour what most people make in their lifetime.

But now, my priorities have changed.

I want to make Emily happy for the rest of our lives, bind her to me forever. Just thinking of her waiting for me at home, belly taut with our baby, makes my pulse kick into overdrive. Marking her for life, giving her a reminder that she belongs to me…and only me.

But first, I have to take care of this stalker. It will be easy to find him. And when I do, I will show no mercy. Emily spent years being afraid, always looking over her shoulder. This fucking piece of shit will pay. He will know what raw fear feels like.

So I call a PI agency we use. The best in the business. The owner promises results in no more than a week. Good. It’s time I put that faceless bastard in his place. No one messes with my girl. No one.

When I go down to pick her up, it feels like the floor rushes up to meet me. She stands there in a long red dress that covers her enough but hugs her curves. My heart pounds like a fist on a drum. I can never get used to how beautiful she is. What I want to do is skip the fucking gala and take her to our penthouse suite. Just looking at her fires my blood to a boiling point. I’m already so damn hard that I don’t know if I can last the whole night touching her but not having her clench and pulse around my member.

“You’re so beautiful, baby girl,” I tell her. I only kiss her forehead because I don’t trust myself tonight, not when the only thing I want to do is devour her, make her writhe under me, and listen as she screams my name.

“Thank you, Daddy. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

I groan and move my mouth closer to her, biting her earlobe and licking the shell of her ear. She shudders and her breath catches. “Don’t tempt me, baby girl. I’m already considering just taking you upstairs to tear that dress off you.”

“You’ve been buying me nice clothes just to rip them off my body,” she pouts.

“Can you blame me? I get delirious when I see you naked. Now let’s stop this talk if you don’t want me scandalizing the gala attendees by showing up with a boner.”

My little girl just laughs. I can’t wait to wipe that off her face and see her come apart in my arms.

An hour later, the gala is exactly as I predicted. Boring as fuck. I don’t even listen to half of what they’re saying to me because my focus is on my girl. I can’t take my eyes off her.

I’m listening to a colleague talk about this hedge fund he’s been looking at when Emily taps my arm lightly. I turn to her and she whispers, “I’ll just go to the bathroom.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No. I’ll be fine.”

The guy keeps blabbering on and on while my eyes trail Emily. She’s turning heads, obviously, but some of the women she passes by dart their eyes at her and each other, whispering furiously.

Five minutes comes and goes and she’s still not back. Maybe there’s a problem? Maybe she’s stuck in the bathroom? Locked in? The guy is still talking when I turn around and head to the bathroom. When I spot her, I’m equal parts relieved and furious. There behind the archway, she’s backed against the wall, one of the floor managers hovering over her, one hand braced above her head and another touching her wrist.

I don’t think. I don’t even take a moment to consider my actions.

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