The more he cursed, the more confident I got.

And then it happened.

His whole body froze. He fisted my hair. And I felt it.

His hot cum coated my throat. I took it in gulps, tears stinging my eyes as I tried to swallow it all.

When he pulled out, my spit mixed with his cum followed, and I looked at him. I’d never seen that expression on his face before.

It was short-lived, but I saw it.

Awe.

I somehow amazed Warren.

Maybe I hadn’t literally brought him to his knees. But the look on his face was good enough for me.

Then, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. But that didn’t stop my own orgasm, and I gripped his pants, looking him in the eyes as it coursed through me.

I expected him to push me away or maybe leave me there. But instead, his hand cupped my cheek, and his thumb brushed across my cum-stained lips before applying slight pressure.

A kiss.

Such a small action, meaningless to some.

But it was enough to undo me.

15

WARREN

What the hell’s happening to me?

I should have punished Addi. Like, truly punished her.

But no. I just came in her mouth, watched her come on my desk, and then helped her up and showed her out of my office before slamming the door in her face.

It took about an hour for me to work up the courage to walk to my own room for fear of what I might do if I saw her again.

I hate what she does to me. Almost as much as I hate h⁠—

I can’t even finish the fucking sentence in my own head.

I grabbed my pillow and held it to my face, exhaling loudly into it. I’d never had an urge to scream into it before now.

In all of my fifty-two years of living, I had been calm. Collected. I could count on one hand the times that someone undid me the way she had.

Buying her was a mistake.

I threw the pillow across the room and reached for my phone. The bright screen threatened to blind me in the darkness of the room.

Quickly as lightning, I dialed Dante’s number. He picked up on the second ring.

“Warren?” His voice was thick with sleep. “It’s two in the morning. What happened?”

So many things.

I cleared my throat.

“Remind me of the penalty for contract dissolvement,” I ordered, my voice too tense.

“The penalty… You wrote it! You’re telling me you forgot?” He sounded as incredulous as I felt.

“Let’s say I did,” I replied. “Remind me.”

He paused.

“From the buyer’s side? It’s full payment plus a twenty percent early cancellation fee. The girl walks away with a prorated percentage based on the days completed. Unless, of course, she does something to break the contract.”