The Billionaire's Rival: My Sweet Revenge

f and velvet. The city lights of Manhattan sprawled out th

r and walked toward her. He didn't rush. He moved with the c

f intimacy was quick, efficient, and usually

ched out and took the Hermès bag from he

" he murmured.

or two years flared up, hot and bright. She didn't wait for him to initiate.

t wasn't gentle.

around her waist, lifting her off the floor, crushing her against him. He kissed her back with a hunger

. He laid her down on the massive bed, his body cove

he commanded,

arrison was hovering over h

said. "I want to

n," she

calculated to wring a reaction from her. He made her feel things she had convinced herself she w

room was different. It wasn'

-count sheets pulled up to her chin. She felt ex

rm thrown over his eyes. He shifted, turning to look at her.

," he said. It w

d loudly. She flushed. "I

kes?" Harrison scoffed. He sat up and gra

e cheeseburgers. Fries. Truffle aioli. A

ng cross-legged on the million-dollar

urger. It was greasy, heavy, ever

taking a massive bite of his own. "

her mouth. She groaned involuntarily. She ate the whole thing. S

g away the sauce. His touch was gentle, almost reverent. It was such a

ed back

he mask slid back into place

she asked, he

a suite that costs fifteen grand a night until check-out. Bes

ime in two years, she didn't feel alone. An