Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Riley Morgan never expected her mystery texter to be Nicholas D’Amico—her cold, commanding billionaire boss. Off-limits. Untouchable. The one man she should run from.
But every message is dominant, addictive, and impossible to resist.
Nick has been watching Riley from the start. Now he’ll claim her with every text, every secret rendezvous… until she belongs to him.
Even if it costs them everything.
*Texting The CEO’s Obsession is a scorching, forbidden workplace romance packed with dirty secrets, obsessive texts, and a CEO who will stop at nothing to own the woman he can’t let go
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
RILEY
“Didn’t expect to catch a princess tonight,” the masked man’s voice rumbles out against my skin, dark and hungry to match the demanding press of his hands on my waist.
My head swims with the desire laced through every word. When I realize he’s talking about my costume, I giggle. I’ve gone as Belle for the past five years since it’s easy to put together, but this is the first time anyone’s ever appreciated the look so much.
“I don’t mind taking the role of a beast, though. Not with a beauty like you,” he says.
“Flatterer,” I tease, a gasp tearing from my throat as the man’s mouth trails from my jaw down my neck.
“Only when it gets me what I want,” he promises darkly, teeth dragging over my pounding pulse. “Am I getting what I want tonight, princess?”
Making out with someone at a work Halloween party is heavily frowned upon. I’m about eight shots deep; decorum stopped mattering three shots ago. Behaving stopped mattering the second I laid eyes on the guy dressed like Ghost from Call of Duty.
Being quiet still matters, but I’m rapidly losing interest in that too.
My mystery man is in head-to-toe black, wearing heavy boots and tactical gear strapped across his body, the signature ‘Ghost’ skull mask pushed above his nose so he can fit his mouth against mine. I’m never going to be able to play Modern Warfare again without thinking of the sharp taste of bourbon and the smell of expensive cologne.
Fuck, I should thank Cassie for dragging me along tonight.
Or maybe not—it’s probably not a good idea to say anything about this in the light of day. No. All my coworkers need to know is that I spent the night celebrating an official job offer after my internship ended. They don’t need to know anything about me grinding against a sinfully sexy man in the hallway of my boss’s mansion.
“Maybe I’ll give you what you want.” I never hook up with strangers, and I’ve never been particularly bratty—or kinky at all—with the people I’ve dated in the past. “If you ask nicely. You can do that, can’t you, Ghost?”
The man pulls back with a grin when I call out his costume, his eyes dark in the shadows of the hallway as they trail over the blue dress I’m wearing.
“Not my style.” He chuckles darkly, wrapping one hand over my dress and under my knee to hook around his trim waist. “I take what I want. And you’re going to be a good girl and thank me for what I give you, right?”
My breath hitches at the demanding words, the harsh whisper of his voice barely audible over people talking and drinking just around the corner.
I’m nodding before I even think it through. My mind is blank of anything but desire and excitement; the thrill of those dark eyes watching me like a predator makes my pulse skyrocket.
“That’s what I thought,” he says smugly.
He catches my lips in another searing kiss, reaching down to the ankle wrapped around his waist. I can damn near taste his wicked grin when he slides his fingers beneath the hem of my dress, sliding from my ankle to my calf, squeezing just above my knee. I can’t help but arch into the touch when he keeps going, dragging the fabric further and baring more and more skin, his palm hot and broad against my thigh.
“Please,” I whisper against his lips when his fingers stop just shy of the hem of my panties.
A low moan tumbles from him as he leans down to glide his mouth across my throat again. “Ask me one more time, princess. Go on.”
Pressing into his touch, I bare my throat and grind down against the muscled thigh between my legs, trembling with need already. Fuck, he hasn’t even touched me yet.
I’m going to be ruined after tonight.
“Please,” I whine. “I need it. Need you. Take whatever you want.”
If I let myself think about a certain CEO who happens to own this house while my mystery man tugs at the hem of my panties, that’s between me and God.
It’s not like the guy dressed as Ghost is hard on the eyes—what I can see of him, which is exclusively a sharp jaw and wicked smirk that does it for me. He’s muscled and hot against me, all thick thighs and insistent hands. It’s easy to fall into it.
“That’s it,” he praises, low and filthy. “Be a good girl, and I’ll make you come so hard you scream. Everyone will know how good I make you feel.”
My response falls away on a gasp as deft fingers slide beneath my panties without hesitation, his thumb circling my clit in a way that makes my knees instantly go weak. I bury my face into his shoulder to quiet my moans as he teases my entrance with the tip of one finger, but he pulls me back by my hair and grins down at me dangerously.