101 Nights Box Set: Volume One

by SE Reign

  “None of your business,” I tell him finally. “Good people are out there, and I’m one of them. Who else is gonna help those who need it, like my family and friends, if I don’t?”

  “I’m not questioning your intentions, farasha, only your methods,” he replies. He sits as well, one hand resting on my thigh. “You were smart enough to get into my heavily guarded suite – with a weapon. You couldn’t think of a better way to get what you wanted aside from putting your own life at risk?”

  “I don’t care about my life,” I reply, chewing my lower lip. I’m humiliated by the tears in my eyes but grateful he can’t see them in the dark. “Besides. I got what I wanted, didn’t I?”

  “You did,” he agrees softly. His hand is traveling up my thigh, sliding over the sensitive skin. “I admire that about you. I wouldn’t have made my offer, if I didn’t think there was something more to you than a desperate fool who tried to corner me in my own home.”

  Is he complimenting me? I can’t tell – the mocking note is back.

  He nudges my thighs apart and slides two fingers into my pussy. I bite back a groan and shift to give him better access. He wraps his other arm around me, drawing me back against his body.

  “Tell me about you,” he purrs softly, then kisses my shoulder. “Everything I need to know, specifically anything the press might be able to drag out into the open, if they ever get wind of you. Debts, enemies, ex-boyfriends. Family issues.”

  I’m listening, unable to help the way my body surrenders to his expert touch. He’s stroking my G-spot, sending tiny sensations of pleasure through me. I’m already so wet, I’m embarrassed.

  I start speaking, barely registering my own words, instead obsessing over where he’ll touch me next, if he’ll get to my aching clit.

  Why do his fingers keep circling my anus? He answers that question soon enough, sliding one into the tight ring.

  “Ohhhh.”

  “Keep talking,” he orders me. He shifts behind me, extending one leg on either side of mine and drawing me to rest fully against his body. His chin nudges my temple aside, and I relax my neck, settling my head against his shoulder. He’s so warm, so solid and strong with his dick pressed against my ass …

  It’s hard to think straight with the hand working its magic below and his solid strength behind me. He feels … incredible. I’m raw from all we’ve done but also so turned on, I can’t stand it.

  His other hand tweaks my nipples then skims down my belly and dips into my core. He begins playing with my clit. My body tightens quickly with tension. He moves fingers steadily in and out of my anus and pussy while swirling and stroking my clit expertly.

  The more I talk, the faster his fingers work, and the less I really know what I’m saying. There’s only one thing I can’t tell him, at all costs, and I will myself not to mention it, even if I’m only half-conscience of my babbling.

  Gasping, I stop speaking, moving against him to hurry his busy fingers. I’m so close, and I just need a little more …

  “Is that it?” he asks, nipping my neck.

  “Y… yes!” I say breathlessly.

  “You’re certain?”

  “Yes!”

  “I love seeing you so turned on. Your pussy is so fucking hot and juicy,” he whispers, trailing hot kisses down my neck. “I could fuck you all day and night long for the entire three months.”

  I close my eyes, lost in the sensations and thrilled by his words.

  “You get your release, then you’re going to suck me dry,” he says in a low, husky voice.

  “God, yes!”

  He strokes my G-spot and clit harder and harder then shoves another finger into my ass, working all three.

  I shatter and cry out, waves of pleasure coursing over me. My body convulses yet again under intense ecstasy unlike any I’d ever known, and he slows his movements without stopping, the involuntary contractions of my pussy and anus milking his fingers in a way that makes him moan.

  He waits for my panting and body to calm, wrapping his arms around me to hold me to him tightly.

  “Oh, god … that was soooo …” I murmur, unable to understand how sex with him feels too incredible to be real.

  “Very good,” he says. “Now I’m going to shove my cock down your throat, and we’ll talk more afterwards.”

  I find myself looking forward to returning the favor, to rendering him a helpless pile of pleasure after how many times he’s done the same to me this night, to see him vulnerable and know I’m the one who made him come.

  “I’m ready,” I say. Despite the multiple orgasms, I can’t turn off the need in my body.

  I don’t know what it is about this guy. He’s a self-admitted jackass but my god … the things he does to me … I want so much more.

  Chapter Five: Natalie

  The alarm goes off, and I slam into consciousness. For a moment, I’m not sure where I am, except that it’s the most comfortable bed I’ve ever been in before.

  Ever.

  I stretch and snuggle in the silk sheets. In my twin bed at home, I can’t stretch out like this. I’m naked on top of the sheets, but they’re soft enough that it feels awesome. My inner thighs are sore as hell, along with my abs. I’ve never experienced this kind of post-sex workout fatigue.

  “Ma’am. Your clothing is washed and ready and the car waiting.”

  Startled, I twist and stare at the figure of an elderly man with white hair. He’s smiling politely, though he also looks a little curious. I claw at the sheets and drag them up over me, my face warm.

  This is so fucking embarrassing! “Um, thanks. I’ll change in a minute,” I manage.

  I’ve never had anyone walk in on me naked in my room before.

  He offers a small, stiff bow then walks out.

  I look around, recalling where I am and why my inner thighs are trembling. I don’t think I can close them completely after last night. My lower belly is sore, too. I had no idea so many muscles were used in sex. I pat my cheeks, not wanting to remember everything he did to me, especially the part about the vibrator. Just thinking about it is making me horny again. He’d been totally right about how great it’d feel.

  Why haven’t I ever tried it? Part of me is turned on about what else he has planned.

  The other part of me is humiliated. Not only did I have a one-night stand, but also I bared my soul to a stranger, one I knew nothing else about. He knows everything about me, if not from his questions then because he’s exploited my body with the expertise and thoroughness of a gold miner in a cave.

  “Shit,” I mutter. I’m beginning to wonder what the hell I agreed to, when I look at the time. “Double shit!”

  It’s seven fifteen. I’ve got to be at work at eight.

  Tossing off the sheets, I take a speedy shower then yank on my clothing and toss my hair into a quick bun. There’s no time for makeup, but I do find a spare toothbrush sitting out for me in the bathroom and quickly brush my teeth.

  Grabbing my purse, I see the note beside it written in tight, neat handwriting as controlled as the man himself is. It contains a phone number.

  Natalie- Only five people in the world have my personal cell number. Make sure it stays that way. – EJ

  I feel uneasy at his warning, recalling that I’d agreed to turn over my entire life to him for three months. Thus far, it consisted of being fucked senseless. I’m not sure what else he’ll require of me, but if I have to become the personal whore to a billionaire in order to save my family, then I’ll do it.

  I take the phone number and tuck it in my purse, my heart beating quickly. I’ve been praying since last night that whatever I’ve agreed to, it doesn’t turn into a nightmare, with me at the mercy of some sort of psychopath with the bankroll to make my life hell if I cross him.

  I have no real reason to trust him and every reason to think this is going to end with him breaking his end of the deal. I’m starting to feel nauseated.

  “Get a hold of yourself, Natty.” I breathe dee
ply then leave the room.

  The man who saw me naked in bed is waiting at the foot of the stairs with a silver tray. I’m not sure what to say. This has got to be the most awkward moment of my life. He saw the dimples on my ass and the mess my mascara made.

  “Mocha and fresh egg white, turkey and Havarti breakfast sandwich,” he says, holding out the tray.

  “Oh. Thanks.” I take both and avoid his gaze. The coffee smells heavenly. I’ve never been one for health food, but I don’t want to refuse the sandwich. I’m already late for work and I’d feel bad not accepting something he might’ve made himself.

  “I’ll take you down the private elevator to the car.” He sets the tray on a table next to the elegant stairwell and starts walking away.

  I follow. “Hey, um, can I ask you a couple questions?” I ask.

  “I’m restricted on what I can tell others, ma’am. It’s a condition of my employment.”

  Will I be repeating that line anytime soon? “Right. Well, can you tell me your name?”

  We reach the elevator, and he faces me, scrutinizing my face, as if no one has ever asked him his name.

  I take a bite of the sandwich, not about to start babbling nervously, especially to the man who saw me naked less than an hour before.

  “Jamil,” he replies. He hits the down button of the small elevator.

  “Nice to meet you, Jamil. I’m Natty. Natalie.” I roll my eyes.

  “A pleasure. I’m sure.” By the note in his voice, he’s really not happy to meet me.

  How much does he know about the … arrangement between me and his boss? It’s not a subject I feel comfortable discussing. With anyone, even if I wasn’t forbidden from mentioning it.

  The door yawns open. We step into the elevator.

  “Is Elijah a good person?” I whisper.

  Jamil glances at me then hits the button for the underground parking garage. I don’t think he’s going to answer. He’s staring straight ahead, stiff and proper, the way I expect a servant to a prince to act.

  Disappointed, I finger the seam of my to-go coffee cup. I feel guilty. Dirty. Like I’m sneaking out the back door after a one-night stand. I’m also thinking that what I know about EJ isn’t encouraging. What if he played me? Slept with me to keep me from shooting him, then I get home to find the cops waiting?

  Or worse? He follows through with his threat to find my family? What if he’s arranged to have everyone evicted even faster than the initial six-month window?

  “Mister Micah is not easy to understand.”

  I’m surprised when Jamil finally speaks. I’ve already written off any response from him.

  “He keeps his word. Always. Whatever jewels or money he promised you for this charade, he’ll pay up.”

  Jamil’s disapproving, critical look at me makes me feel worse, like I’m a whore who extorted a good man for the last of his life savings when in truth, I’m pretty certain Elijah is getting the better end of this deal. At least, he’s been in charge of this deal since he set foot in the office and found me there.

  “Thanks,” I mumble. My face is hot again. I’m not sure how I’ll explain the situation to my parents. It’s bound to get out that I’m seeing someone. Our community is too small for it not to, and they know me well enough to know something’s up.

  The elevator door opens. I always hated the way parking garages smell: like oil and gas. The lighting is dingy, too. A Towncar is waiting for me, and the driver opens the door when I step out.

  I’m not sure what to say to Jamil, so I don’t say anything. I’m hoping I don’t see him again, though I guess that’s not likely.

  Assuming Elijah is telling the truth about this deal.

  I sink into the comfortable backseat and nibble on my sandwich. It tastes fresh and homemade – better than anything I’d have at home. I eat it quickly then sip my coffee as we pull out of the garage into the morning.

  “Where am I taking you, ma’am?” the driver asks, glancing at me in the rearview window.

  I hesitate then give him the address for work. I keep a spare change of clothes there. I’d rather look a little un-ironed than be late and invite too many questions.

  Because right about now, there’s no way I can answer them without crying. I’m a horrible liar, and I have no idea how to explain to my parents where I was last night or why I didn’t get home this morning like I should have. They always check up on me before bed, and I just can’t stand the idea of lying to them.

  But I’ll have to. For their sakes, so my disabled father can keep going to his doctor two blocks over and my doting mother can stay home and take care of him.

  I get to work two minutes late and slide past the clients in the waiting room to the executive hallway. The attorneys are already in their first meetings of the day, and I go to the office I share with one of the paralegals. She’s already too engaged in her computer to acknowledge me, so I grab my spare suit out of the closet and hurry down the hallway to change.

  The only spare makeup I have at work is mascara. I plaster it on and force myself to smile, staring at myself in the mirror.

  I look like I spent the night getting fucked hard. I don’t need lipstick. My lips are puffy and reddened from last night, and there’s an unmistakable flush to my cheeks. My hair is staticky from the silk sheets, so I try to smooth it down with water then twist it into a tight bun.

  With a deep breath, I leave the bathroom and return to my desk.

  Janet, the nerdy girl in the desk next to mine, ignores me. I stare at my desktop, unable to concentrate, not when my thoughts are floating between how guilty I feel for last night and how scared I am that he’s going to renege on our deal. I don’t know what I’d do then. I don’t even know where my gun is, and I start to think he kept it so he could blackmail me, if I came back.

  I respond to a few texts from my mom asking me where I’ve been. I feel so bad lying to her, but I do it, because I’m hoping desperately that I didn’t make the stupidest mistake of my life last night.

  Janet takes a phone call, her crisp tone pulling me from my miserable thoughts. I force myself to edit a press release one of the attorneys has sent me to send out. It’s a boring job, but it’s steady and pays the bills.

  I work hard until noon and eat lunch at my desk, not wanting to leave the office. It’s safe, cozy, quiet and I can think without interruptions or people who expect answers. I don’t feel up to facing anyone after what I did last night.

  The sex still blows my mind and makes my inner thighs tremble. Several times during the day, I fan myself to try to forget the intensity of his dark gaze, the things he said to me.

  If a man doesn’t fuck you like he owns you, find a new one.

  My ex certainly never fucked me like he owned me. How is it this man – who seems to have a dark streak I’m not sure I want to know more about – knows how to turn my world inside out?

  I can’t get the idea that there’s more to him out of my thoughts, either. The dark streak, yes, but also something else. His talk of abuse and never knowing good people makes me think being a billionaire isn’t all it’s cut out to be.

  Yet pitying him is out of the question after he coerced me into bed with him and into this insane, three-month deal.

  If he follows through with it. He’s so dark and twisted, though, that I start to doubt he has any concept of honor or dignity, despite what Jamil said in the elevator.

  By three o’clock, I’ve convinced myself that I did make a mistake last night. That he’ll never follow through. That he’s right – billionaires don’t make or keep their money by being nice. Stopping a hundred million dollar project that was months away from starting seems too far-fetched.

  By four o’clock, I’m dejected and ready to cry.

  I should've just shot him. At least if I went to jail, I knew I had the guts to do something instead of being manipulated, thoroughly fucked and tossed on my ass.

  “Natty!” Janet yells.

  “Jesus, Janet. Why a
re you shouting?” I snap, looking up from my computer screen.

  “I’ve called your name twice.”

  “Okay. I’m listening. What?”

  “You hear the news?”

  “No. I’ve kinda been working,” I say in annoyance. “This shit doesn’t get done itself.”

  “I stream it,” Janet motioned to her iPod. “This is kinda funny. You know that billionaire who’s knocking down your parent’s apartment building.”

  I groan. How does she know the exact wrong thing to say?

  “He’s seeing a woman named Natalie Hanover. Isn’t that neat?”

  Shit. I say nothing for a moment then get out of my chair and cross to her computer. “Where are you seeing that?”

  “On Drudge report. They’re calling him a hypocrite and a bunch of other stuff.” Janet clicked on the window with the news.

  “It’s a major headline?” I ask in disbelief. “Billionaire playboy prince listens to father, gets serious about American girl.”

  “Yeah. What are the chances he’s tearing down your house and dating someone with your name?” Janet giggles. She clicks on the article.

  I almost sigh. There’s no picture of me. I can still lie my way out of this.

  “Yeah, that’s crazy,” I reply. Secretly, I’m hoping this is the only site with the news, and my parents don’t see it. “Well she’s about to be a billionaire’s wife. I’m sure she’s happy.” I return to my desk.

  “That explains all the weird phone calls,” Janet says. “You’ve had like, ten people call today from the press asking for you.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I told them they had the wrong Natalie Hanover.”

  “Yeah.” I stare at my computer, afraid to check my email. “I’m gonna wrap up and go home.”

  “Me, too.”

  Cringing, I click on my email. The hourglass pops up, but there are no new emails. With a sigh, I bend over to grab my purse out of the bottom drawer of my desk. When I straighten, I can’t believe my eyes.

  Two hundred new emails? What the hell? I sift through them, and cold shoots through me.