Trapped By The Coldhearted Billionaire's Game

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thes" Jaret had prepared. It was a silk slip dress, the fabric so flimsy it was practically transparen

d barely tie the thin straps. The silk felt cold agai

g the door handle. She had to f

m. The moment she appeared, his eyes raked over her, slow and deliberate. A flicker of something-sho

ty space on the c

a request. It was a command, the

s balled into fists at her sides, her nails digg

he asked, her voice s

augh. He leaned back, spreading h

in fabric covering her chest. "You take that off yo

bit down on her lower lip, the meta

ered, the word

en that door, and I let my two guards outside come in an

red outside. The brass doorknob ratt

er throat. She couldn't let them to

ed the heavy crystal ashtray from the side table. With every ounce o

shtray sailed past his ear and smashed into the antique va

oulder against the gap, catching the guard off guard. She st

as two st

on the back of her n

ng and flailing back into the room. He slammed her against

wrist at the gu

t with a def

wild, his chest heaving as he pressed his forea

inches from hers, "and I'll make sur

ed, dark spots dancing at the edges. She was forced onto her tiptoes, he

fiance was an unexpected variable, a challenge to his absolute control over the situation.

, he rel

ing the hard oak with a painful crack. She ga

n at her from hi

" he co

ct. She was already on her knees, but he want

ing her tear-streaked face. Her pride lay in tatters a

fingers gripping her chin

amber liquid from the co

pressing the rim of t

er. She tried to swallow, but it was too much, too fast. The whiskey sp

tears streaming down her fa

r of her mouth, his touch abrasive and possessive. H

hispered, his breath hot against h

in her throat, along with every ounce of shame and hatre

h a satisfied smirk. He adjusted his cuffs, his demea

e main room, his back to her. The heavy oak door swung open,

oice echoing through th