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'Dangerous Woman'
DramaQueen*Lorraine Mesa, I'm beyond grateful!
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Stripping the CEO Spank it Out?
Andre Quinn's nudity was artistic. His perfection ran from his glistening golden skin washed in the sweat of his desire and the indigo wax which decorated his smooth skin like pearls of the rarest kind, to the curves of his perfect ass, and his responsiveness to her touch. Because she was used to him being at the dominant end, she hadn't known that her lover's body was this sensitive, except the part where he came a truckload after being blown. But this sight? Was as fucking golden as the epic eroticism of his slightly parted lips, the slow movement of his writhing body as the feather tickled his skin, the hardness of his puckered nipples and engorged shaft, his bulging muscles and the sexy grunts he was making. The tickler toy had been designed with thick layers of feathers spread with wide wings which enabled her drive him crazy in different parts of the body at the same time. Like how it covered the entire broadness of his chest as she moved it down his body, watching in awe
Stripping the CEO Liberation
"Liberate me, cara." *** The bets were off along with the roleplay, discarded like the shackles of cuffs which lay on the rugs now, sometime just before the short trip to the bed. One in which Andre piloted them both joined to the hips, their tongues dancing to the music of the fast synchronised rhythms of their hearts. His fingers were splayed across her back while the other palm cupped her neck as he led them in that ride of a dance, his expertise feet walking her backwards towards the bed. And as the perfect partner in every fucking ramification, Clara tilted her head to the side and followed his lead, so immersed in the steps which seemed so practiced she wasn't aware of when they got to the bed. Till the silky sheets and foam massaged her back, her stiff neck relaxing against the warmth. He didn't ravage her under the instincts of pure lust, but remained standing for a few seconds, his pretty orbs filled with so much feelings which threatened to bring tears to her eyes. Be
Stripping the CEO Waves of a Storm
For a minute, the heavy silence was unbroken even by the sound of breathing, because Clara seemed to have lost the ability to do that as well as utter a sentence. A duration of time long enough to push those lingering insecurities to his head, fear crowding his heavy heart. The thought of the disgust she must be feeling dried his throat, and he suddenly felt vulnerable wearing nothing beneath the sheets. He needed to find his pants and perhaps pick up the shattered pieces of his jacket along with his heart and... "Will you be okay afterwards?" He turned to the lips which had spoken in the softest whisper, and what he saw in her eyes weren't disgust. It was he who didn't know what to say anymore, because he was grateful to have her and unsure of the answer himself. Over the past few days, the question had lingered in his head and he didn't have it all figured out yet. And he was honest with her. "I don't know. I...I'm not confused about my feelings for her; I fucking hate her
Stripping the CEO The Feeling of Blue
They had baited and trapped him, hard. ***Ripped band aid, pulled violently off a wound that had been attempting to heal, Exposed again to the blade which had made the scar in the first place, and even worse, doubling the sharpness of the instrument of torture. Perhaps he could pretend that neither the scar nor the fast approaching blades existed and act as though he hadn't just witnessed the image of Marie Claire who was seated in close proximity with Viscount. He could struggle with his shattering mental state and disregard that haunting image... He had after all engaged in those therapies to get rid of it. But this time, it wasn't a hallucination he could block out with voluntarily inflicted physical pain and sex. She was here, seated half an inch away from Clara, her disgusting head tilted as she seemed to mutterer something to the woman he loved beneath that mask, daring to taint the pure essence of his soulmate. He saw crimson red, tasted a dark metallic liquid he soon
Stripping the CEO The Bold Shade of Indigo
"Anthony!" Marie nudged him, chiding him in a tone which hinted more at shyness than plain embarrassment. And what did the bastard do? He turned to her with those scheming hazel eyes glinting through the mask. "I didn't say something we aren't aware of already, babe. Unless little brother chooses not to get married to Ms. Lynn. He still has mummy issues after all." "Stop it, Anthony." Tony raised his arms in mock surrender and muttered an apology, focusing his attention on Marie. Clara wanted to puke. "Chill, Ms. Lynn. Becky and I are only here to have a good time. C'mmon babe, let's go." Marie took another glance at her and resumed walking with the bastard. Clara swallowed hard as that chilling anger halted the flow of blood to her head, consumed by pent-up rage at the vile pair. Of their own volition, words started to spew past her lips, her mind uncaring what she said to them. "You're disgusting. Both of you. A good time, here? Whatever the fuck you are thinking of doing comi
Stripping the CEO House of Aces
Her breath caught in her throat for the beauty of his blazing eyes and the regality of his boldness. She fucking loved this man, and when he looked up to speak, his beautiful eyes glinting as his lips turned upwards in a wicked smirk, she walked the path of falling in love with him all over again. "Do have a seat, you did come all the way here for that purpose. And... Masks off, please. You can wear them again on your way out." Fucking hell, he was hotter than all that burned with that casual unbothered motioning of his hand towards the couch. Silence accompanied his words, and sure was Clara that she hadn't imagined the disappointed sigh which tore from Viscount's throat, but the bastard of course regained his composure and made a show of gesturing Marie to the couch first, before he sat beside her. Next they pulled off their masks with deliberate slowness, laying it on the table where Andre's feet and mask were. Literally at his feet. "Impressive, little brother. I thought
Stripping the CEO Poker Game
"Dre..." Marie had started crying, quiet sobs spreading through the quiet room, her lean fingers pressed against her lips to stiffen the cries. But Andre didn't let that deter his continuation of that unpracticed speech. "Why don't you go ahead and pick the one you're the most beautiful in. Oh, you wouldn't know if you don't watch it. Should I play one for you...?" That was the point where Viscount's control snapped, and he stood with a force which made Clara's eyes dizzy for a second from watching him. "You fucking sleazy bastard! You are not in a position to cast judgement on her when you don't have a freaking idea what she's been through. Vengeance? Punishment? I should be the one casting it on you and your bastard of a dad for taking the company. My father fucking killed himself because of the way he was cast out!" "What? My father and I took the company? Remind me the number of times I contacted you after you started giving me the cold shoulder, asking what had gone wrong.
Stripping the CEO Game Over
Andre understood what he hadn't said, and stared at the brown envelope with emptiness in his eyes and heart. He... Just needed a rest, a vacation. Marie cleared her throat as Viscount checked the time by the wall clock. Interesting, only twenty-five minutes had passed and twenty-five years worth of anger had been poured out within that short duration of time. "I... I didn't come with Anthony today to mock you, I'm sorry that I'm by his side despite the enmity between you two. I... I will end it with him if our union affects you. You're the most important person to me, baby..." "Becky?" Tony seemed genuinely betrayed and stunned and sad at the same time. Andre didn't know how to feel about any of it. Too many things had happened and his mind could only absorb little at a time. He couldn't give them his blessing because it wasn't in his place and watching his mother with a man who had been like an older brother to him wasn't exactly a sight for sore eyes. She was at least eleven y
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