101 Nights Box Set: Volume One

by SE Reign

  I exit the study but pause in the hallway.

  If I leave now, I’ll never have this chance again. What if today is all that stands between my family and their ability to live a decent life?

  Chapter Three: Elijah

  I know desperation – I’ve seen hundreds of men cross my threshold with that gleam in their eyes. Like this woman, most of them want something, and it’s usually money or my influence to better their lives or line their pockets.

  I’m good at smashing people’s hopes and driving competitors into the ground. My father says I’m heartless, and I agree. Hearts can bleed. If I have none, I’ll never worry about the blood ruining my expensive clothes.

  I follow her and see she’s stopped in the hallway. I know what she’s thinking: it’s now or never. I look over her body once more and decide that yes, the idea that’s forming in my head is doable. She’s sexy with large breasts and rounded hips. While her clothing could use improvement in taste and style, she’s toned, fit and healthy. Pretty but not over the top.

  Strong enough to face me in person, smart enough to know how to get into my super secure penthouse, shrewd enough to know how stupid it’d be to shoot me.

  For a moment, I was disappointed that she backed down and left the study at my offer. Finding her in the hall, however, makes me think she’s got more of a backbone than ninety nine percent of the people I’ve met.

  How desperate is she? I’m watching her. She stands stiffly in the hallway, tense enough to jump if I make the slightest sound. Her breathing is ragged, and I know she’s replaying everything I just said over in her mind. It’s what I’d be doing in her shoes.

  “Last chance to walk away,” I tell her.

  “No,” she whispers. “I won’t let it end like this.”

  I approach, sensing I’m about to win. Like usual. I stop close enough to feel her body heat and lean forward enough to slide hands down her arms. She shivers and turns to face me, looking up at me with clear blue eyes that are determined, if scared.

  She smells of jasmine, the same exotic scent I wake up to every morning back home. A natural beauty, her eyes are large and lips full. Her nose is slightly turned up at the end and her cheeks currently flushed. With a tiny bit of work, I can turn her from uncommonly pretty into a bombshell.

  “I came here to blackmail you or …” She can’t finish the sentence.

  “You’re not a killer,” I tell her, brushing her cheek with the back of my fingers. “You’re a scared little girl.”

  “I am. But I’d rather be a scared little girl than a heartless bastard like you. All your money can’t bring someone like you any sort of happiness or peace.”

  My jaw clenches, and I drop my hand without moving away. I’m not used to people talking to me like she does.

  “There’s nothing money can’t buy. Even someone like you,” I growl.

  “I’m not for sale.”

  “What would you do to keep your precious block from being torn down?” I challenge. “Lie? Cheat? Steal?”

  “Yes,” she says without hesitation. Her breathing is growing faster, and I move closer. I love the softness and scent of a woman’s body, even if that woman is currently pissed at me. The addition of her holding a gun is a total turn on.

  “Give up control of your life?”

  Her eyebrows quirk in confusion. “If it got me what I wanted, yes.”

  “Your body?”

  After a brief hesitation, she nods.

  I smile.

  Her eyes drop to my lips, and I realize she feels the chemistry between us the same way I do.

  “I need a woman of wife-like material. You want to save your family’s home. I have a different kind of deal for you,” I start. “One that gives us both what we want.”

  She’s listening, her gaze pinned to mine. She chews on her plump lower lip the way I’d like to.

  “Any skeletons in your closet? Aside from being poor?” I ask.

  Her face flushes. “There’s no crime in being poor! And no!”

  “What do you do for a living?”

  “Public relations for a law firm.”

  I laugh. “Seriously? So you know exactly how many laws you’re breaking by being here and the sacred rule about lawyers. He who has the best one always wins. And I can afford the best in the world.” I’m more pleased that my assessment of her is correct. She’s not what my father pictures in a wife for me, mainly because she’s American, but she’s smart, strong, and has dealt with the press enough to know not to trust them. She’s also from common stock.

  It’s a formula that’s worked well for other dynasties in the world in recent years.

  Her face grows red, her eyes glittering with anger.

  “Here’s my deal,” I say. “You play the part of my devoted, loving and loyal fiancée with every ounce of your soul for one hundred and one nights. If I can’t move my project due to permits and funding then I’ll find a suitable block nearby and move all the occupants of the Tenley block there at my expense.”

  Her expression turns from angry to astonished. After a moment, she speaks. “What’s the catch?”

  “You give up complete control of your life and your body. You do what I say, go where I tell you, wear what I want. You fuck me every night, day or nooner, whenever I want. Basically, I own you for three months,” I explain. “In exchange, your friends and family have a guaranteed place to live.”

  For a long moment, she’s quiet, studying me.

  “How many sexual partners have you had?” I ask.

  The flush is back.

  “I need to know where to start with you. You strike me as … conservative in your experiences.”

  “Two. My college school sweetheart and another guy from school.” She says the answer between clenched teeth.

  “I don’t use condoms. You on birth control?”

  She shakes her head.

  “I’ll schedule you to go to a doctor to get them. In the meantime … when did your last period end?”

  “I haven’t said yes!” she snaps.

  “Yes you have. You just haven’t admitted it to yourself,” I reply. “Now, answer the question.”

  “Two days ago.”

  “We’re good, then,” I say. “No protection needed for at least three days.”

  “Are you serious?” she asks at last. “You’ll spare their home if I sleep with you?”

  “Not just sleep. You’re my respectable, reserved, legitimate fiancée in public and my do-anything whore in private.” I reach down and take the gun from her. “You give the world, including your family, the story I tell you to give them. Remember. I own you.”

  She doesn’t resist, a sign she’s already decided what to do about my offer. I step in even closer and touch her neck with my other hand, running my thumb back and forth along her jawline.

  “I have to live a lie,” she says.

  The pad of my thumb crosses her lips.

  “Exactly, my little farasha,” I say quietly, calling her the Arabic word for butterfly. “For just over three months. Then the ten thousand people on your block have a guaranteed home.”

  She swallows hard then nods. “I’ll do it.”

  “Good.” I smile. “First things first. What’s your name?”

  “Natalie Hanover. Everyone calls me Natty.”

  “I’m Elijah. EJ to my friends. EJ to you for three months. From now on, you’re Natalie, not Natty. It’s more dignified.”

  “Okay.” She looks uncertain, and I can sense her fear. “What now? You run a background check on me?”

  “Nothing so crass. I have people who do that for me,” I answer. “Right now, we seal our deal. To look like star-crossed lovers, we need the physical connection. What better way to start our agreement than tonight?” As I speak, I lean forward, my lips brushing hers lightly.

  She doesn’t pull away, a sign she’s not going to back out.

  “I didn’t shave my legs,” she says.

  I laugh again. I’
ve never met anyone quite this honest. When you’re surrounded by people who always want something from you, you tend to suspect everyone of trying to manipulate you. Truth becomes relative. I have a feeling these three months won’t be as painful as I was dreading. She isn’t the kind of dutiful wife that many wealthy men marry, women who know their place and do what is expected of them. She wasn’t the type to create drama in public, either, if she sneaked into my suite to confront me instead of publicly calling me out the way my father did.

  She’d be the perfect mix for my three-month charade: a woman with her own mind and a respectable job, the common touch and compassion for the less fortunate. The best part: she’ll do exactly what I tell her, which means I’ll have a hand in crafting her ironclad image in a way no one else can. I’d never have this much control over a legitimate fiancé, but over one who has everything to lose, if she doesn’t do as I say…

  EJ, you’re fucking brilliant.

  “I don’t think that’ll keep you from backing out,” I reply. “And I don’t give a shit about your legs being shaved. You ready, my dear fiancée?”

  “Do I get a ring?” she retorts.

  “Of course. We have to combat rumors of how serious we are first then deny openly that we’re headed down the path to marriage. In a couple of weeks, you’ll be spotted with the ring on, and I’ll be forced to make an official announcement.”

  She’s staring at me again. “You’ve thought this through.”

  “I always do. At that point, life gets interesting.”

  “Not sure I like the sound of that.”

  “We’ll deal with it when we get there. It should be quiet for a few days at least. We can get to know each other a bit better.” I put the gun down on a table in the hallway then offer her a hand. “What better way to get to know someone than an intimate exchange?”

  “This is insane,” she mumbles, a flash of fire in her gaze again. “I came to blackmail you and I think you’re blackmailing me, aren’t you?”

  “We both get what we want. Correction, what we need.”

  “Yeah. I suppose we do,” she agrees. “I’ve never slept with a stranger before.”

  “It’s easier than you think. I do it all the time.”

  She eyes me doubtfully but takes my hand.

  I lead her down the hallway to my private suite and into the luxurious space, closing the door behind her. She’s nervous. I can feel it in how tightly she’s gripping my hand.

  I’ve had more one-night stands than anything else, sometimes with two women at once. I have no second thoughts about fucking a stranger, and I don’t care whether or not she does, either. Sex is sex.

  Facing her, I ease closer and take her face with my hands. She’s stiff, uncertain.

  I kiss her gently, enjoying the feel of her plump lips. Slowly, she begins to respond.

  “Relax,” I urge. “We’ve got to look natural in public. This is the best way to do it.”

  She nods, her tongue flickering out to lick her lips. She kisses me this time, leaning into my body in a way that melts my tension. I love having a woman’s body in my arms, to spread her scent all over me. I’m most relaxed and happiest fucking someone. It’s the only time my mind stops plotting, and I can truly step out of my world and find some semblance of peace.

  She’s more right than she knows about money not buying happiness or peace. Sex, however, does. At least for me.

  I let my hands travel down her arms again and to her hips. Sliding them under her shirt, I feel her tense once more and pause before slipping them up her shirt. I pull it off and take a moment to examine her breasts, pleased they’re as plump as I thought. They’re real, and there’s no pushup bra needed with the creamy mounds.

  “You have a great body,” I whisper, gaze going down her torso to the small pooch of her belly. “You’re what? A size eight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s a good size. I’m used to double zeros with fake breasts.”

  “If you say I have to lose weight to be your arm candy …” she growls.

  I sense there’s more depth to her anger than me commenting on her size. I run my hands down her sides, settling them on her waistband.

  “The press will call you fat,” I tell her. “I don’t care what size you are or want to be. I just need to know what size clothes to order.”

  My words have more power than I expect. She relaxes, and I wrap one arm around her, kissing her more deeply. I unsnap her bra and tug it free without letting my mouth leave hers.

  She’s thawing. Her mouth opens, and I dip my tongue between her lips to taste her while cupping one naked breast with a hand. It’s heavy and firm. Perfect. I love the color of her skin: peachy-porcelain and so so soft. The women my father would want me to marry have skin my color, and I take some satisfaction in knowing I’m defying him with the peach princess in my arms.

  I run a hand down her body, into her pants and panties, to her pussy and dip my fingers into the warm, moist depths, wanting to see if she tastes as good as she looks.

  Pulling my head back from our kiss, I lift my fingers to my mouth and offer a grunt of appreciation. Her nectar is thick and sweet, and my mouth waters with the sudden urge to eat her out.

  Her eyes are getting glazed, her body growing more pliant.

  I pull off my shirt, and she stares at my chest, awe on her face. I take damn good care of myself, from my skin to my daily trip to the gym. I know how I look and the effect it has on women. She’s almost purring in approval of my hard pecs.

  Natalie touches me uncertainly at first, running her fingers down my abs. I unfasten the pants of my tux and slide them and my boxers down.

  She’s staring at my dick with lust in her gaze. It’s large, my most prized possession, aside from my wealth. Rubbing it against her lower belly feels so good, her rough pants causing friction that makes me groan. I like a little pain with my pleasure: the brush of a woman’s teeth, the roughness of her clothing.

  I take her hand and place it around my cock.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she whispers, her touch hesitant.

  “I’ll go easy on you tonight,” I tell her, aware she’s probably a lot less experienced than I know. “I’ll fuck you good but gentle.”

  Interest and uncertainty cross her gaze.

  I kiss her and work her pants off until I can see her naked body. She’s got the perfect ass, one that will look better when she’s on all fours and I’m fucking it from behind. I squeeze the cheeks and pull her hips against mine, working her mouth. She grows more responsive, less tense, and I lower her onto the bed.

  Settling between her legs, I can’t wait to taste her but know I need to take tonight slowly.

  “You ever use a dildo?” I ask, reaching up to the treasure trove of sex toys I keep under one pillow.

  “No.”

  My fingers find the devices, and I choose the smallest, one I call Little Blue.

  “They’re simple and incredibly fun,” I tell her. Resting on one arm, I pretend not to notice how she’s starting to paw at me, aroused and ready. “You can do anything with them.”

  I turn it on and run it down her neck lightly. She shivers with a small laugh that tells me she’s ticklish. I continue down her body, over one tight nipple, down her belly and pause at the mound between her legs.

  “Your body is incredibly responsive,” I whisper, loving the way she moves and feels beneath me.

  I shift off her and settle the vibrator lightly against her clit.

  She gasps. Her cheeks are a pretty pink color, her lips darker red from my kisses.

  I smile and slide it farther, to the opening of her cunt, then let it sit for a moment.

  Natalie grows restless and shifts against it. I let her nuzzle up against it then insert it into her sheathe, watching in fascination as it disappears into the pink, plump juicy lips. She’s tight, wet and hot – and I am growing more confident in my choice of a temporary fiancée.

  “We’ll ju
st leave that there for a moment,” I say. I rub the vibrator against her G-spot hard a few times until she’s squirming and her breathing is off.

  Then I leave it inside her, the quiet vibration tingling against my balls when I straddle her.

  Her eyes have gone from dazed to cloudy, and I can see her need is to the point where she’ll no longer tense up at my touch or hesitate to do what I tell her. Her hands are roaming my body, one settling on my dick. She rubs me hard.

  “You like the way the vibrator feels?” I ask.

  She nods quickly.

  Her petting is growing more desperate, and I wait one more minute before I reach behind me and pull the dildo out of her. Flipping it off, I settle between her legs and press myself against the length of her, enjoying the way her skin feels against mine.

  “What’s your favorite position?” I ask, gazing deeply into her eyes.

  Chapter Four: Natalie

  My body is humming with need. The vibrator felt incredible, and I’m embarrassed by how wet I feel. Does he notice? Or care?

  His question, however, makes me feel stupid. I can barely concentrate with the body of a Greek god pressed against mine. The heat of his skin and his rich scent leaves me feeling once more like he’s some kind of drug, one I want to lick, bite, and intertwine with my very depths by any means possible.

  Am I really doing this? Is this some kind of lucid dream?

  “I don’t know,” I say, letting my hands roam his perfect body. His dick is tickling the opening of my core, and I ache to feel him inside me, to experience what it’s like to have someone as big as he is, fill me from the inside out.

  “I have a few,” he says with a smile. “Some might scare you on the first night.”

  “I like this,” I say. No part of me doubts he will probably scare me many times before this is over. He’s aggressive and experienced, and I’m simply … not.

  He kisses my neck, his hot lips making me shiver. One hand goes to my breast, and he rolls the tip between his fingers then replaces them with his mouth.