-HUNTER POV-


    I was done. Completely done.


    35 vouchers


    Three weeks back in the CEO chair and I was already choking on boardroom air, fighting the urge to walk out of every damn meeting.


    I had spent the entire morning with men in expensive suits who thought they were smarter than me, tossing graphs across glossy tables as though I did not own the table itself.


    Vincent sat across from me, twirling a Montnc pen and looking bored out of his mind. He did not even pretend to hide his yawns anymore.


    “You know what I hate about ke?” he blurted, in the middle of some financial advisor’s dull monologue about quarterly growth.


    The room went silent. All eyes swiveled toward him.


    Vincent leaned back in his chair,pletely unbothered. “She wakes me up at six. Six, Hunter. She says the world belongs to people who rise early.” He pressed his palm to his chest like it was a personal tragedy.


    “I belong in bed. Preferably until ten. Why the hell did I agree to date her?”


    The advisors looked horrified. I nearlyughed. Nearly. But I had to keep my face straight, or they would think I had lost control of the room.


    “Focus,” I muttered.


    Vincent grinned. “I am focused. Focused on the fact that you are grumpy and I am sleep–deprived. We are both suffering, brother.”


    By the time the meeting ended, I was massaging my temples.


    But the day was not done. Lunch with an investor waited, one I could not avoid unless I wanted to spark rumors that Reid Enterprises was slipping.


    I sat through the sd course withoutint. Then the bastard across from me leaned forward, lowering his voice like we were about to share a state secret.


    “Hunter,” he said smoothly, “I have been in talks with Edward ckwood…”


    The fork fell from my hand and made a loud noise on the te. I looked at him, my heart racing and my jaw tense. The whole room felt smaller, and everything went quiet.


    “Don’t,” I said, voice like steel. “Don’t ever bring that name to me.”


    The investor blinked, startled. “I only meant…..”


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    “I don’t care what you meant.” My tone was sharp enough to slice through the linen tablecloth. “That man does not exist in my world. Not in business. Not in life. Not anywhere near me or mine.”


    The atmosphere was very tense. My fists curled against the table. I was two seconds away from walking out and burning the deal to ash.


    Then Vincent’s hand pped down on my shoulder. “Alright, alright.” His voice was easy, light, as though he had not just watched me go volcanic.


    “Let’s not ruin my lunch over bad taste. Why don’t you head out, friend?” He nced at the investor with a smile that was both charming and deadly. “Meeting’s over.”


    The man stammered something about following upter, then practically tripped over himself to leave.


    Vincent sat back down, sipping his wine as if nothing had happened. “You know, one day you’re going to burst a vein and I will have to give the eulogy. And I will make it terrible on purpose.”


    I breathed out slowly, pushing away from the table. “He brought up ckwood.”


    “Yeah, and you scared him half to death. Consider it handled.” He tilted his head. “Now, let’s redirect. Tell me -how was my godson’s first day at kindergarten?”


    The question tugged at something deep in me, softening the hard lines of anger. My shoulders loosened, just slightly. “He did not want to leave Celine. Pouted the whole way, apparently.”


    Vincent chuckled. “Kid’s smart. If I had a mom like Celine, I would not want to leave her either.”


    I shot him a look.


    “Rx,” he said, grinning, “She’s family. Besides, ke would murder me if I so much as looked sideways.”


    By the time I finally pulled into the mansion driveway, I was carrying a bouquet of lilies in one hand and a box of choctes in the other. I needed to see them.


    My wife. My son. That was all that mattered.


    The house smelled of dinner and warmth when I walked in. I followed the sound ofughter to the kitchen.


    Celine stood at the counter, apron tied around her waist, Caesar perched on a stool beside her, both of them giggling like conspirators over something only they understood.


    “Now, what are my two favorite people talking about?” I asked, leaning in the doorway.


    Caesar turned instantly, his face lighting up. “Papa!” He bolted across the kitchen, flinging himself at my legs. I scooped him up with one arm, pressing my face into his hair.


    The stress of the day vanished in an instant.


    Celine walked toward me, her smile soft. She kissed me lightly, taking the flowers from my hand. “These are


    beautiful.”


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    I brushed a strand of hair from her face, studying her as though I had not seen her that morning. “Not as beautiful as you.”


    Caesar groaned dramatically. “Eww, Papa. Stop kissing Mama all the time.” We bothughed, though my eyes stayed on Celine’s.


    Later, when Caesar was tucked in bed and the house was quiet, I found myself pressing her against the wall of our bedroom, her lips soft and urgent against mine.


    The stress that started when I saw her in the kitchen faded quickly.


    Finally. My fingers dug into the wool of her sweater, her skin a furnace underneath. “Been waiting all fucking day to get you out of this.”


    Sheughed into my neck, the sound muffled and warm. “A whole day? That’s it?”


    “Feels like a fucking year.” I tugged the sweater up and over her head, tossing it blindly into the dark room.


    Her short hair fell around her shoulders in a messy, beautiful cascade. My mouth found the soft skin beneath her ear. “I have been hard since you walked out of the bedroom this morning.”


    “Prove it,” she whispered, her breath hot against my cheek.


    My hands slid down her back, grabbing two handfuls of her ass through her jeans. I pulled her tight against my cock, the denim a rough, frustrating barrier.


    I groaned into her mouth. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me. All fucking day.”


    She rocked her hips, a slow, deliberate grind that made my knees weak. “I want to feel it without the jeans.” <fn1670> This content belongs to F?nd-Novel</fn1670>


    Her fingers went to her waistband, but I smacked them away. “My turn.” I made quick work of the button, the rasp of the zipper loud in the quiet room.


    I shoved her jeans and panties down her thighs in one rough motion, my knuckles grazing the wet heat between her legs.


    She gasped, her head falling back.


    I dropped to my knees, my hands running up the backs of her calves, her thighs. “Look at you,” I breathed, spreading her ass cheeks.


    The dim light caught the glistening pink folds of her pussy, already swollen and slick for me. Her asshole was a tight, dark star just below.


    “Fuck, you’re so wet. Is all that for me?”


    “Yes,” she panted, her voice strained. “God, yes.”


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    I didn’t tease her. I buried my face in her cunt, my tongue driving into her, fucking her with my mouth. She tasted like salt and sweat and pure fucking need.


    Her hands twisted in my hair, holding me against her as her hips bucked. My tongueshed her clit, circled it, sucked it.


    “I’m going toe,” she choked out, her thighs starting to tremble. “Right fucking now.”


    I stood up, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around. I pushed her forward, bending her over the arm of the sofa. “Not yet.” I fumbled with my own pants, my cock springing free, thick and aching.


    I spat into my palm, slicking my length, then pressed the head against her soaked entrance. “You’re going to take my dick first.”


    I pushed inside her with one deep, relentless thrust. She cried out, her back arching, her inner muscles clenching around me like a hot, wet fist.


    “Oh fuck, you’re so deep.”


    I set a punishing rhythm, my balls pping against her with every drive of my hips. The room filled with the sounds of our fucking: our ragged breaths, the wet p of skin, the creak of the sofa.


    I reached around, my thumb finding her clit, rubbing hard, frantic circles. “You feel that cock stretching you open? That’s mine.”


    She was beyond words, just a series of broken moans and pleas.


    I felt her body start to tighten, her cunt milking my dick. I pistoned into her, fucking her through her climax, my own release coiling at the base of my spine.


    I wrapped my hand in her hair, pulling her head back. “I’m gonna fill this tight little pussy up,” I growled.


    “You want that? You want my fucking cum?”


    “Yes! Please!”


    With a final, brutal thrust, I came, my orgasm erupting.


    My vision whited out as I pumped my release deep inside her, pulsing again and again. I copsed over her, spent, my forehead resting between her shoulder des.


    We stayed like that for a long moment, our harsh breaths the only sound. Slowly, I softened and slipped out of her.


    She shifted, turning onto her side on the couch to look at me. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes dark and wide. She just watched me, saying nothing.


    Her finger traced a line through the sweat on my chest, her touch making my skin prickle.


    “What is it?” I asked, brushing a kiss over her forehead.


    :


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    She hesitated, biting her lip. Then she reached over to the nightstand, picking up the folded letter I hadn’t noticed before. She ced it in my hand.


    I frowned, unfolding it. My chest tightened as my eyes scanned the words.


    ‘Ecole des Beaux–Arts. Paris. Orientation in two weeks.‘


    I stared at the page, then at her. She was watching me nervously, her teeth digging into her bottom lip, as though bracing for my reaction.


    Celine. Paris.


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