Mr. CEO: An Instalove Possessive Alpha Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 160)

by Flora Ferrari

  Marybeth inclines her head. “Of course. And sir…”

  “Hmm?”

  “I just wanted to say, I’ve noticed a change in you these past few days. You seem…happier. Scarlett’s clearly an incredible woman. And I think you’re going to be very happy together. I’m sorry if I’m being overly forward, sir.”

  “Not at all,” I say. “I agree with you. In fact, Marybeth, book us a table at Le Rouge two nights from now. I have something I need to tell her.”

  “Sir,” she says, clipping away on her two-inch heels.

  I stand up and walk out of the office, taking my cell phone from my pocket and calling Scarlett. As I jump down the stairs two at a time, the ringing continues in my ear. Terror tightens my chest as I imagine her climbing into a taxi, frowning up at her penthouse apartment, perhaps with a handwritten note left for me on the coffee table.

  “Santiago,” she whispers, a croak in her voice.

  “Jesus, Scarlett,” I growl, kicking open the door and swaggering toward my Ferrari. “Where are you?”

  “In the park,” she says.

  “The one around the corner from the office?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, stay there,” I command. “I heard about what happened. I have something I want to show you.”

  I press the open button on my car keys and the Ferrari’s doors flip up like an eagle spreading its wings. I jump inside and start driving before they’ve even fully closed, like a diving eagle now, angling its body. I drive quickly to the park, an animal’s snarl sounding at the back of my throat when I see my lost little lamb standing at the park’s entrance.

  In her pencil skirt and her shirt, with her bag clutched to her shoulder, I just know every man who passes her is imagining what it’d be like to be with her.

  Back the fuck off. She’s mine. I’ll kill any man who touches her.

  Possessive urges strike me like a series of lightning bolts.

  I pull up and flip the Ferrari doors up. “Get in.”

  She climbs into the car, clutching her knees. “Where are we going?” she asks, her voice piqued with anxiety.

  I reach across and brush my thumb along her lips, causing a shiver to move through her body, making her breasts jiggle slightly. I have to quickly remove my hand, before I slide down her neck and grab onto them and they cloud my mind, making thinking of anything else other than my sexy goddess impossible.

  “Do you trust me?” I snarl.

  “Of course,” she answers.

  “Then just wait.”

  I drive us through the city, forcibly staring straight ahead because the way she fiddles with her pantyhose is just too mind-fucking. It’s too easy to imagine the crrrreekk noise they’d make when I tear a hole in them, the contrast of her pink pussy against the dark material too much for my savage desire to handle. Soon, we reach the high-rise office building.

  “Um, are you giving me another apartment?” she jokes.

  “You deserve a thousand apartments…and maybe a castle.” I wink. “But that’s not why we’re here. Come on.”

  I place my hand on the small of her back as I guide her toward the elevator. As we ride up, up, up, she looks at me out of the corner of her eye, biting her bottom lip before letting it go in a conflagration of a smile. “Okay, this anticipation is killing me. Where the heck—”

  The elevator doors open and I nod toward the office.

  “Take a look.”

  She reaches down and clutches my hand in hers, and we walk into the large open room together.

  On one side, there’s a giant desk with the comfiest chair I could find online…shipped overnight from a bespoke designer in Paris. On the other side, there’s a floor-to-ceiling bookcase. There’s a whiteboard for ideas and a relaxation area for when my princess is feeling tired from her writing sprees.

  “All of this is for me?” she gushes, as I lead her around the room, explaining that she can decorate it however she wants. “You rented an office for me! This must cost thousands of dollars a month.”

  “Rented? No, Scarlett. I bought the whole fucking building for you. I know you want to be a writer. So I want to give you every chance at success I can, as your mate, as your partner.”

  “Woah,” she says. She walks over to me, picking up a silver pen resting on the desk and tapping it against her lips.

  “It’s so easy to imagine you doing that when you’re thinking of your latest plot twist,” I say.

  She giggles, and then gestures with the pen at the bookshelves. “But what are those for, hmm?”

  I roll my eyes with a smirk. “Of course you’d find a way to bring it back to our inside joke,” I growl. “And let me tell you, princess, if those shelves don’t get filled with books, we’re gonna have a problem.”

  She dances over to me, vivacity made flesh. “Oh, and what sort of a problem, huh?” But then she frowns, and suddenly I wonder if the office isn’t as magnificent as I wanted to make it for her. “Did you just do this because of what my co-worker said to me, Santiago? Do you just want to get me out of the way?”

  “No,” I snap. “I bought this building the moment I learned you wanted to be a writer. I’ve been dreaming of giving you this office as a gift ever since. I just didn’t know when the right time would be. I didn’t want to scare you.”

  “Scare me?” she whispers, with an endearing giggle. “Do you really think you could scare me away now, Santiago? We’re meant for each other!”

  “So you’ll take the office?” I growl.

  “Of course I will,” she giggles. “I mean, I really do like your company and everything. But my dream is to be a writer, and this is about the best gift you ever could’ve given me. But, Santiago, please don’t fire Jackie for how she spoke to me.”

  “I wanted to,” I admit, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her toward me. “I was going to march in there and roar at her to leave and never return. But I knew you wouldn’t want me to do that. We’re about honesty, fairness.”

  “Always,” she whispers, pushing her body up against mine.

  We dance-step across the room, ending up near her desk. I reach down and grab just above her knee, my manhood a stick of barely-contained lava as it surges in my pants, trying to escape into its rightful home.

  “Santiago…nobody will interrupt us here, right?”

  “No,” I snarl. “And I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

  She lets out a cry as I lift her off her feet. I lower her down to the desk, unable to believe that she’d ever think her plus-size beauty is anything other than goddess-like flawlessness. She weighs nothing to me, and all her curves only serve to make the rod in my pants all the more eager.

  I push her shoulders, angling her back onto the desk. She parts her legs and stares up at me, biting her lip in that way that just drives me to brutal animalism.

  “Push your breasts together,” I growl. “Tear off your shirt and tweak your nipples. Now.”

  “For you, baby,” she cries, tugging at the shirt so that buttons go flying. The confidence in her sure hands just serves to make my balls even more impossible to ignore, the desire like an invective thrumming throughout my body. She unclips her bra and her luscious breasts spill free. “Like this? Hmm?”

  She pinches her pink nipples, tugging on them slightly. I reach down and unsheathe my length, my eyes locked on her breasts.

  “This is where the milks gonna be, baby,” she moans. “See where I’m pinching? It’s gonna ooze out, Santiago.”

  “You’re driving me insane,” I growl, leaning down and taking her nipple in my mouth. I suck it, imagining that I can taste the sap of her lactation spilling onto my tongue. Palming her breast with one hand, I grab her pantyhose with the other and wrench them away from her. They break away with a snap, crumpling on the floor.

  Then I lean up, unable to resist any longer. I push the frilly fabric of her panties aside and bring the engorged helm of my not-so-little soldier to her pink pussy. I feel the fabric of her
panties brushing against me, and then I plunge forward so that my entire manhood slides deep inside her.

  I lean over so that my chest presses into her chest, crushing it. I can feel the wetness from my sucking spreading across my pectoral muscles as I fuck her.

  She grabs the broadness of my back, dragging her fingernails down my skin, digging so hard I feel pinpricks of pain.

  But that’s nothing compared with the velvety insides of her pussy, as I pump faster and faster, the strain at the base of my cock impossible to deny.

  I let out a growl of relief when I feel the quivering lips of her pussy getting tight, when I hear her cries of pleasure against my ear, her breath warm with the release of her lust.

  “Squirt on my cock,” I growl. “I want to feel the eager juices of your womb, Scarlett. Show me how badly your body wants to take my seed.”

  “Oh, oh,” she cries. “So badly!”

  She lets out a scream as she throws her head back, wrapping her arms around me and kissing and biting my neck. I grab the edge of the desk, pushing myself into her, plunging again and again into the only place I ever want to call home.

  We reach our crescendos together, the city laid out before us.

  After, Scarlett sits up, glancing at the window. “Crap, somebody could’ve seen!”

  I smirk as I step back, reaching under the desk and pressing a button. Suddenly, the city vanishes and smooth steel walls appear in their place. “There are cameras on the other side, recording the city, so it imitates the effect of windows. Or I could push another button and have real windows appear…but I wouldn’t dare risk anybody else getting even the slightest glimpse of you.”

  She beams at me. “Is there anything you don’t think of, Santiago?”

  “When it comes to you,” I say, “I hope not.”

  Which is why the dinner at La Rouge is so damn important.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Scarlett

  I wait outside the apartment building, pacing up and down, with nerves slithering serpentine around my body. Santiago called me earlier today – I was in the office, working up a storm – and told me he was taking me to La Rouge tonight. But there was something about his voice, something deep and suggestive.

  I don’t know what he’s going to tell me at dinner, but I know it’s important. Good or bad, that’s the question…I just have no clue.

  “Well, well, well,” a deep voice snaps off to my left.

  I turn, startled.

  The sun has long since set, the city an eerie-blue with the moonlight. But, even so, this is not the sort of neighborhood where criminals lurk in the dark…not like my old apartment building. But now that I face the man, I realize how deserted it is and, silly me, I’ve walked way too far away from my building for the security to be of any help.

  I guess I was just so lost in my humming nervousness.

  The man is just a little taller than me, but he’s burly and has wide shoulders. He wears a leather jacket and a cigarette hangs out of his mouth. There’s something about his eyes, something familiar, but before I can figure out what four more men step from the shadows of a nearby alleyway.

  “I wondered how long before the little lost duck wandered away from her security…”

  “Who are you?” I say, stepping backward slowly.

  But the man keeps creeping forward, his hand near his hip like he has a knife in there or something. “You really don’t recognize me, you silly whore?” he cackles. “I’m the man who could’ve made you famous if you weren’t too stuck-up to take me up on it.”

  Suddenly, it’s like the past forms a sharp dagger and stabs me in the belly. “Henry,” I gasp. “What the heck are d-d-doing here?”

  “Ooh, there she is, Stuttering Stella,” Henry laughs, gesturing at his friends. They start surrounding me. “You see, I saw something very fucking interesting on the internet recently. Santiago Sasso was talking about the woman of his dreams, so I did a little digging and, what d'you know, little Scarlett Manning bagged herself a billionaire. You’re coming with us, Scarlett.”

  “What?” I snap. “Why?”

  “Are you really that stupid?” he whines. “It’s time Sasso shared some of that cash. We can’t all hit the lottery like he did.”

  “Hit the lottery?” I yell. “He worked hard to make his company what it is.”

  “Ooh, you sound like you love him.”

  “I do love him!” I scream, stepping forward now, not away. Even with his goons surrounding me, I feel the strength of the pledge I made to Santiago infusing me. We’re partners. We’re honest. I’m his. And he’s mine. “I love him more than I can even believe, actually. So you can say or do anything you want, but I pity you, Henry. You’ll never know love like what I feel for Santiago.”

  “Aww, shucks,” he cackles. “You’re breaking my heart, Stutters. Come on, boys, get her—What the fuck?”

  They all turn as Santiago’s Ferrari comes barreling down the street, stopping in a tight drift that sends tire smoke curling into the air. The doors fly up and Santiago flies out, his face twisted in fury, looking like a prehistoric man who’s just returned to his dwelling to find some hyenas yapping around his family.

  “Get away from her,” he snarls. “Now.”

  “Easy, Grandpa,” Henry laughs. “It’s five against one here. Don’t be stupid.”

  “Away,” Santiago snaps. He casually takes off his suit jacket, his muscles pressing through the pale fabric of his shirt, the delineations as clear as my love for him. “Scarlett, come here.”

  I back away slowly, keeping my eyes on Henry the whole time. As soon as I come within touching distance of Santiago, he grabs me and guides me behind him, puffing himself up like a protective shield.

  “Don’t make us hurt you, old man.” Henry reaches into his pocket and pulls out a glinting knife, tossing it from hand to hand. “Because we will, if we have to.”

  “Santiago,” I cry, clutching onto his shoulder. “Let’s go. Quick. We can get out of here.”

  Santiago shakes his head slowly. “I know who this rat is,” he snarls. “I researched him the night you told me, Scarlett. This is Henry motherfucking Jenkins, the bastard who thought he was better than you.”

  “Better than her?” Henry snorts, looking around at his goons with a self-satisfied grin on his face. “That’s not exactly a difficult task, is it, lads? Might as well say I’m better than a beached—”

  Santiago surges toward them like wildfire.

  I leap back, stunned, and then let out a scream when all five men move toward him.

  Henry brings the knife over in a wide arc but Santiago ducks, steps to the side, and then backhands him so hard across the face several teeth go flying into the air, flashing in the streetlight before landing on the curb.

  Two more men leap as Henry tries to recover. Santiago ducks back, fists raised in a boxer’s stance, and jabs one of them so fiercely in the nose blood showers in a gushing torrent.

  The other man – just as tall as Santiago, with the sort of muscles you get from steroids – makes to grab Santiago’s shoulders. But my steel-haired hero leaps away, ducks to one side…and then springs in the other direction, sweeping the man’s legs with a well-placed kick.

  “Ah!” he cries, landing on his back.

  Santiago jumps back, barely even breathing hard, hopping from foot to foot with the vitality of a jungle cat. “Well?” he snaps at the two remaining men.

  They exchange a glance and then, one of them making a whimpering noise, turn and sprint in the other direction.

  Santiago walks over to Henry, who’s struggling to climb to his feet. He kneels down and lays his tree-trunk forearm against my bully’s neck. With his other hand, he grabs his head and makes him look at me.

  “Tell her how fucking sorry you are,” Santiago snarls. “Now.”

  “Jesus,” Henry wheezes. “You’re crushing my skull. Jesus fucking Christ!”

  “Tell her,” he growls.

  Henry’s m
outh opens and closes like a fish out of water. Finally, he mumbles, “I’m so sorry, Scarlett. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “Hurt me?” I laugh. “As if you could hurt me, Henry. Come on, Santiago. Let the little boy go. I think he’s learned his lesson.”

  Santiago laughs gruffly, standing up and swaggering over to me. He wraps his arm around me and leans down to kiss me warmly on the cheek. “You don’t deserve a woman like this, kid,” Santiago snarls. “She’s too damn perfect for you.”

  Picking up his jacket and slipping it on, he leads me to the Ferrari, holding my hand as I climb inside. He slides down into the driver’s seat and we roar away.

  He turns to me, a rueful smirk on his face. “I’m glad you were there, Scarlett,” he says. “Otherwise I might’ve gone full beast on those pricks.”

  “Are you seriously telling me that wasn’t full beast mode?” I laugh.

  “It’s not even close to what he deserved after tricking you like that.”

  We glide through the city, but then, suddenly, Santiago comes to a stop and drives into a nearby alleyway. He sits back, bringing his thumbs to his eyes, massaging. “Ah, dammit.”

  “Santiago, what is it?” I ask, nerves thrumming deeper and more insistent now.

  “I wanted to wait until dinner to say this,” he growls. “But I want to be honest with you.” He turns slowly to me, his lips twisted in an unreadable expression. “That’s what we’re all about, Scarlett.”

  “Okay…”

  Please don’t be bad, please don’t be bad…

  “I love you,” he growls, reaching across and taking my hands. “I loved you the second I laid eyes on you. I know it might scare you away, but I can’t hold it in anymore. I can’t look at you, the mother of my child, and not tell you that every second of every damn day I just feel my love for you getting deeper, more secure, like you’re my anchor.” He laughs ruefully. “I never claimed to be a poet, Scarlett. But that’s really how it feels.”

  All I can do is stare at him as his handsome face distorts with my tears. Joy springs up into my chest, but then I notice that his lips are twisting downwards, and his hands are trembling.