Bought: Mr. Money, Part 1 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

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Meet the new boss … definitely not the same as the old boss.

Ettore Zane, AKA Mr. Money AKA Billionaire “King of Sex”, has just bought the company Allie Davis works for. Now she’s his right-hand associate in his sex toy and club empire. And he has no problem mixing business with pleasure.

Ettore also knows something Allie doesn’t… her boyfriend is a cheat. And there is nothing he hates more…

This is the first part of the “Mr. Money” series by Emily Cantore and is 17200 words long.

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Bought: Part 1, Cellar: Part 2, April: Part 3, Desire: Part 4, Entice: Part 5 (the final book) are now available!

EXTRACT:

“Ms. Davis, are you ready?”

I leaned back in my chair and saw Mr. Zane sitting with his feet up on his desk, sipping a coffee. The cup could have had whisky in it from how he looked. His top button was undone, his shirt sleeves rolled up and I saw on his right arm tattooed black lines spiraling upwards. I wondered how far they went.

I turned back to my document. I’d had it ready for the last fifteen minutes and had spent that time trying to work out how to talk about this vibrator without turning every shade of red there was. That wasn’t entirely true. I’d also spent a chunk of that time trying to think of boring things so the tingle between my legs went away. Ice-burgs. Local politics. I’d failed at that.

I printed two copies, the machine on the other side of my office quickly spitting them out and then grabbed my notepad, bottle of water and took a deep breath before walking out to Mr. Zane.

“Watch out, there’s a seat there,” he said with a hint of a smile, sliding his feet off his desk.

I sat down and handed him one copy of the report. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a large black stapler. He put the report in and then slammed his hand down on it, the echo crashing through the room.

“Should I do you too?” he asked.

“No thank you.”

A very mischievous part of my brain took hold of the second meaning and hit the button for temperature increase.

Mr. Zane flipped over the first page of the report but barely looked at it. “Can you take me through this?”

“Certainly.” I was going with ultra-professional to get me through this. They were just words. Like brick or hat or tree. Any sexual connotations was only happening in my mind.

“Fifty-three survey responses. Nine out of ten rated it at higher than nine out of ten overall.”

“On what scale?”

He was looking at me with those green eyes and I knew he wanted me to say it. I also knew that he’d already read the survey results.

“Satisfaction.”

“And?”

“Number of orgasms. Speed of orgasm.”

He nodded as though we were discussing nothing more interesting than toast.

“A common response was feeling like they had had sex after using the vibrator.”

He looked down at his page and I saw him read what I didn’t say.

“You’ve written something else here.”

“Yes, you can read it there.”

He smiled and put the report down. “In a few days, if you’re willing, we’re going to be visiting some sex toy manufacturers and having meetings with people pitching new products at us. You are going to need to be able to say-” he looked down at the report “I feel like I’ve been fucked harder than I’ve been fucked before without stumbling over it.”

I bit my lip and looked down at the report. Bad enough I had to read this out with him smirking at me but he was doing that double sentence meaning thing with if you’re willing. I looked up and held Mr. Zane’s gaze.

“Participant 21 reported I feel like I’ve been fucked harder than I’ve been fucked before. She also said that she enjoyed the Silent Z in her pussy while her boyfriend fucked her ass and she went on at great length about how she’d fuck the creator of the Silent Z senseless if she could find time away from her now favorite toy.”

Somehow I managed to hold it together, only glancing down to quote her directly.

“That’s the kind of results we want.” He lowered his voice and leaned in closer to the desk. “Wasn’t that the hottest thing you’ve read? She’s completely uninhibited, loves to fuck and is happy to tell everyone about it. This is the kind of woman we need in the world. This is the kind of woman I’d love to fuck.”

He sat back and then pulled open the drawer the stapler had come from. This time though he took out a Silent Z. It looked tiny in his hands.

“Have you tried it?” he asked.

I shook my head, afraid to speak unless a squeak came out or a moan.

He pressed the base but I heard nothing. Then he reached out with it and waved for me to give him my hand. Like it was a on a string, I lifted it up and he clasped my wrist, pulling me forward in the chair. He pressed the tip of the vibrator against my palm and immediately the buzzing sensation jittered up my arm, closely followed by goose-bumps.

“Completely silent,” he whispered. “Feel how powerful it is?” He moved the tip of the vibrator across my palm and towards my wrist. The vibration was buzzing up my arm and all I could think about was how his hand felt around my wrist. His hand was so large and my wrist so small in comparison.

“How does that feel?” he said.

 

Billionaire Blackmail: My Billionaire Boss, Part 5 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

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Someone has uncovered Delilah’s past and is using the information to blackmail her. Will she reveal all to Jackson Stone, mercurial billionaire, and risk losing him? Or will the past come back to bite them both?
This is the fifth part of the “Billionaire Boss” series by Emily Cantore and is 7000 words long.

EXCERPT:

“Can you see?” he asked from somewhere behind me.
“No, sir,” I said. No light was getting through at all and without my sight my other senses seemed to magnify.
“Wait,” commanded Mr. Stone.
“Yes, sir,” I said.
I heard him move behind me, a rustle of fabric on fabric but then nothing else. If anything, the man was preternaturally quiet. I focused on calming my breathing, feeling my heart slowing down and the pounding rush of blood in my ears fade away.
To my right I heard a soft clink of metal on glass and then the rattle of ice-cubes. Was he making a drink?
“Take off your clothes,” Mr. Stone whispered in my ear and I almost screamed. I managed to bite my lip in time to stop myself.
“Yes, sir,” I said and reached down to unbutton my jeans. I pushed off my shoes and after a momentary struggle with my very tight jeans, slid them down my hips and off, taking my socks with them. It wasn’t cold in the room but when the air hit my wet underwear, I felt a chill.
“Faster,” Mr. Stone whispered in my ear again. I couldn’t hear where he was over my own body going crazy but then I felt him behind me, felt his fingers trail over my ass and down to the wetness between my legs. I moaned as he pressed his fingers against me before he stepped away and was gone again.
I unbuttoned my top and dropped it beside me before my bra followed. Finally I slipped my underwear off and dropped them to the floor. I kept closing and then opening my eyes under the blindfold as though I’d suddenly be able to see something but I was in complete darkness.
I heard another clink of metal on glass to my right and then a scraping sound. I felt a rush of bumps flood up my arms with every new sound. What was Mr. Stone doing? I heard another clink of glass before he spoke again.
“Two steps forward.”
“Yes, sir.”
I took two steps and then stopped, now trying to remember the layout of the room and what was in it. There were tables and all sorts of sex toys all over the place. Half the things I had no idea what they did.
“Reach down and feel the bench in front of you. Turn around and sit down.”
“Yes, sir,” I answered and reached down. My fingers touched a soft warm surface with a firmness underneath. I ran my hands outwards and around and felt it was about twice as wide as me. Not a bed but a bench with a soft covering. Using my hands to guide me, I sat down on it.
“Now lay back and put your hands above you, little slave,” Mr. Stone said.
I lay back on the bench, feeling the warmth of the material against my back. As I raised my hands above my head I felt Mr. Stone’s strong hands grab my wrists and he pulled me back, sliding me further up the bench. I felt two leather bands clasp around my wrists, locking my arms in place.
I heard a single footstep and then he was gone again. I strained my ears to hear where he was and felt like my whole body was vibrating with the effort. I heard a soft scrape of glass from across the room.
Then his lips. Hot, burning. His mouth enclosing my nipple, a tiny trickle of hot liquid running down the side of my breast. I gasped and heard him swallow. In the darkness I could smell hot green tea. I heard a soft sip of liquid and then Mr. Stone’s burning mouth covered my other nipple. Its heat rushed through me and as his teeth grazed against my breast, I moaned.

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