Ruin Me (Savage Bosses)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

M adison

Mmm.

A tortured moan ripped past my compressed lips. As sensations buffeted my body, liquid seeped from my opening to paint my desire along my thick thighs. My breath hitched as I touched another sensitive nerve, imagining it was him .

His powerful jaw that kept so much unsaid. His piercing blue eyes that immobilized me more effectively than his arms. And those fucking arms… Why’d they have to look so powerful? So thick, all his shirts stuck possessively to his muscles, making love to every bi and tricep? He could probably throw my big body in the air without getting winded before using me like a rag doll.

Fuck!

Another groan escaped as more wetness coated my fingers.

Despite everything I’d done to eradicate him from my memory, he was always there. Monopolizing my thoughts, feeding my desires… Controlling my pleasure. And I hated him for it.

I pushed two fingers into my pussy while circling my clit, wishing they were his and despising myself for my weakness. Would he reach deeper inside me? Would he be cruel and keep me on the edge, never giving me the last push into euphoria? Or would he be gentle, coaxing me to come on his hand?

A shudder rolled through my body. Nearly there. I was so close. If I could only reach out and touch the oncoming wave, it would rip me apart and sew me back together into a beautiful tapestry of fulfillment. I doubled my efforts, squeaking through my arousal and rushing to the end goal, because I wasn’t supposed to be here right now.

I should have been out of the door ages ago and on my way to my new job. Instead, I was in my bedroom, barely dressed and trying to take the edge off a craving I had eight years to kick but failed. Now, the only thought dominating my mind was to come. One big orgasm that would make what I was about to face more bearable.

Frustrated tears pooled beneath my lids at my false hope. When was the last time I had a big orgasm? At this point, I’d take any relief, no matter how small.

The need to touch myself hadn’t slammed into me out of the blue. I’d fought it off for as long as I could until I risked walking into my new position with ruined panties and a lethal dose of inappropriate horniness.

I had to take care of myself before I exposed myself to the masses and faced an arrest for public indecency. Images of my face and sex offender and other labels flashed in my head.

That’s why I was currently plunging in and out of my wet pussy while circling my engorged clitoris with my thumb like a nymphomaniac coming off a long fast.

Mmm.

I moaned as my walls spasmed around the digits, and I tried like hell not to scream the name I’d forbidden myself to say aloud whenever I was alone. Into the silence, my sex squelched as heat rose from my skin and my heavy breaths painted the air.

So close. Why couldn’t I come?

The familiar face I ran from for so long rose in front of me again. Despite all my resolutions to the contrary, the man mocked my good intentions. I never meant to masturbate to his image, but my subconscious refused to let him go. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t forget his devastating good looks or ignore the many fantasies I had of him doing the filthiest things to me.

It was so like the ornery bastard to disturb any sense of equilibrium I’d gained since accepting this job from hell.

If only I’d ignored Ife’s call.

But I hadn’t.

I could never. She’s been my partner in crime since we were six years old. She knew everything about me. Well, except one thing. This thing.

Another shudder racked my body as my obsession’s dream substitute continued to dominate my pleasure. As he tortured me by focusing on that sensitive part of my clit. Then left me in suspense to flutter his fingers around the nerve, keeping me in needy suspension. His name rose to my lips, but I bit it back before it could shatter the fantasy—a fantasy I shouldn’t be having.

Ife would murder me if she knew I had the hots for her father. I wasn’t supposed to be this bad off after so many years away from where we grew up. Maybe if I’d told her about my feelings, she would never have browbeaten me into taking this job.

It wasn’t like I needed a job from the great Kent Luxe. Damn… his name alone caused my nipples to draw tighter; the buds called for firm stimulation. I plucked at them, shuddering as sensations zipped through my body.

Still, I refused to lend a voice to his name. It was the only thing holding back the surge I needed. One guaranteed to leave me weak and unable to walk, let alone think. And that was dangerous since my entire career required me to think fast, be flexible, and pivot as the situation required. I made a good name for myself and my consulting company where I managed crises every day. I was so in demand that Olivia Pope and the woman, Judy Smith who she was based on, would have to take notes.

But being an expert exposed me to doing favors for my best friend, and she was quick to use the BFF card that landed me in my current predicament; minutes away from facing the only man that inspired this level of immeasurable lust.

It had to be lust and only lust. I needed this feeling to be rooted in the physical because I hated him. He broke my heart, and I couldn’t justify keeping those feelings alive after all these years.

Too bad my body never got the memo.

The huge tsunami I’d hoped and begged for with tortured moans I silenced. I stretched to receive a lager-than-life event only to have a small crest lap at my body. I nearly wept as my muscles tensed from the unsatisfactory orgasm. My shoulders, neck, and back screamed at me for teasing them with a euphoria that never manifested as they locked up in protest.

Why did I think today would be any different? I cleaned myself up, fighting back the frustrated tears that would destroy my mascara and eyeliner. After a hasty glance in the mirror to refresh my hair and lip stain, I squared my shoulders and walked out the door.

A shitty start to my first day working for my best friend’s dad. If calling at the last minute to cancel the arrangement wouldn’t reflect badly on my professionalism, I would do it in an instant.

But Ife’s pleading voice rang in my ear. Her father and his company needed my help. Although guilt and shame led me to agree to her request, I would face Kent Luxe and revamp his and his company’s image at all costs.

Because the one thing I couldn’t do was admit my most shameful secret to Ife, the reason I’d moved away from Douglas with no intention of returning. Despite violating the first rule of our friendship contract—No secret shall exist between us—she didn’t need to know that I was one hundred percent prepared to wreck her home life for a chance to be with her dad. I doubt she would forgive me even if I was a teenager at the time.

Not when her father’s company was the center of a murder scandal that dominated international news.