I BIT THE INSIDE OF MY CHEEK FORCED to watch my lead deckhand with my little dove, devouring her with his eyes as she asked him to dine with her.
It’s my fault.
I pressed her too hard, too soon. Now she thinks she can flee into a lesser man’s arms for protection.
As if that boy with barely any hair on his face or chest could stop me.
No one can stop me from taking what I want.
And what I want is to make Jessie Dawson my next conquest. I want to feel her young, lithe body under me as I wrap her hair around my wrists, driving into her over and over again as she begs me to let her come—something which she must earn.
Lifting my Cuban to my lips, I pause, feeling desire sing in my blood as I stare down at the glossy photo stapled to her resume.
Jessie Dawson.
Twenty-three.
Single.
Born in San Diego, USA.
A dedicated worker, a seasoned crew member and my next delightful dove in training. I’m hard, straining against my trousers as my finger traces her cheeks. I’ve done this for weeks, jacking off to her photo, picturing those lips with the gap between her teeth wrapped around my cock, taking me deep.
My wayward thoughts were disrupted by the chief stew scurrying towards me.
“May I get you anything, sir?” Without even glancing her way, I shrugged, dismissing her with my silence as I pushed off the railing walking inside my mega yacht.
I don’t even know why I bought the damn thing. I was hoping spending two-hundred million would make me feel something; stupid even.
Devising my plan on how to woo my next victim, my bare feet treaded lightly down the hall to the master stateroom. She’s consuming my thoughts. I wondered where she is, only to find her in my room with her fingers trailing over my cufflinks laying on the dresser.
Pausing silently, my eyes roamed over her backside, noticing how the stewardess uniform hugs tightly to the curve of her ass. Just like I knew it would when I ordered Jessica to give it to her. I had intentionally selected a size too small for Jessie.
She picked up my bottle of five-hundred-dollar custom-made cologne, inhaling as she closed her eyes taking a long whiff.
“Does it make you wet?”
The bottle fell from her hands clanking on the dresser. She was frozen in shock being caught touching my things.
“Admit it,” I breathed stalking closer, closing the gap between us, “you lied in bed all night thinking of me…wanting everything I told you I’d do.”
Her hands fumbled the bottle as she attempted to place my things back where I last left them. “Leave it,” I commanded noticing the drops of liquid staining the mahogany wood.
“It’ll leave a stain.”
“So? I’ll have the dressing table replaced.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” Coming up behind her, I assessed her, as our eyes meeting in the mirror. My index finger swirled in the spilled cologne, lifting it, I rubbed my scent between the hollow of her breasts watching her pupils dilate in the glass.
“Dios, you make so hard.” My cock strained against my trousers. I gently touched her waist, bringing her back against my caged anaconda.
She bit her lip, “What if I did think of you? I might have thought about it briefly, but I can’t. So please stop whatever game it is you’re playing. I don’t do casual sex. Besides, I have feelings for someone else.”
Raising my eyebrows, I moved to the side placing my things back in place. “Is that so, little one?”
“I-I should go.”
“Have you finished cleaning my quarters?”
“There’s nothing to clean. It’s spotless.”
Smiling faintly, I shrugged, “I need things to be controlled: orderly. It’s the only way I can function.”
She backed away from me, closer to the door, afraid to take her eyes off me; afraid I’ll pounce. But I’m a hunter luring my prey. When the time comes to feast on her soft flesh—she’ll think it was her idea. Last night, I was angry. My approach with her clumsy, hasty, now I need to back up myself and win her with the finesse and skill learned by seducing dozens of girls that came before.
Oddly, I can’t recall one face. One pair of legs, or any defining thing about one of them.
I didn’t move, just held her gaze until her back hit the door. With a flushed face, she turned, trying to disguise her desire to run, opened the door shutting it behind her with a firm click.
My hands shook as I opened my drawer, finding the bottle of pills I hid inside a pair of rolled up socks. Modern medicine has done wonders for the few people like me. If I took them…it would be a few weeks before they kicked in. Everyone wants— no hopes for me to change. But being devoid of emotion is who I am. It’s what I’m used to. But the tiny white pills inside this bottle hold the promise to change everything for me. The perks of inheriting an empire include contacts with CEO’s of the world’s best biotech companies.
Getting medicine before it hits the market is easy. But something in me revolted every time I opened the bottle peering at the magic pills inside. But seeing her here, in my room, touching my things, has me wishing to feel everything as I break her to fit me.
I want to feel satisfaction, triumph, and the rush of pleasure that promises to course through me when she gives her consent.
Snapping the top off, I shake out a pill into my palm.
This better work.
If they don’t—I’ll personally dismantle Hexagon Pharmaceuticals myself. Destroying things is what I do. Whether it be in the boardroom or bedroom—I’m the man for that job.
My weakness is my greatest strength. The one thing about my success that no one could put their fingers on and my father didn’t see it until the very end when he changed his will at the last minute much to my cousin’s chagrin.
My inability to feel makes me the most formidable businessman in Europe. I rip companies apart, sell them in pieces, not caring how many careers or jobs get lost.
They call me El Diablo.
If they only knew how right they are. The devil has no soul and neither do I and at the helm of my later father’s empire, I rule with an iron fist and black heart, tripling profits in less than two years.
My face was on the last cover of FORBES magazine. I made the top ten list of the most eligible bachelors in the world.
My mouth curved into a smirk as I met my own eyes in the mirror, swallowing the pill.
They used my face and fortune to sell thousands of magazines. If they only knew they conned those women. I’m far from eligible. I’m the most unavailable man who’s ever lived.
