Chapter 1
Elena Reyes balanced the heavy silver tray on her palm, weaving through the glittering crowd with a smile so fake her cheeks ached. The charity gala was in full swing on the top floor of the Voss Tower, Manhattan’s elite dripping in diamonds and arrogance. Her black waitress uniform hugged her curves a little too tightly, the skirt barely reaching mid-thigh, and every time she bent to serve drinks, she felt eyes crawling over her body.
Just get through tonight, she told herself. The extra three hundred dollars would cover her mother’s next round of medication. Barely.
Her feet screamed in the cheap heels as she circled the room. That was when she saw him.
Alexander Voss.
He stood like a king among peasants—tall, broad-shouldered, in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that did nothing to hide the raw power beneath. Dark hair, sharp jawline, and those icy gray eyes that seemed to cut through everyone they landed on. At thirty-four, he was one of the youngest self-made billionaires in the city, and he looked every inch of it.
Their eyes met.
Elena’s breath caught. Heat flooded her core instantly, a slick warmth pooling between her thighs. She looked away too quickly, heart hammering, and that was her mistake.
Her heel caught on the edge of the carpet. The tray tilted.
Champagne flutes crashed to the marble floor in an explosion of crystal and golden liquid. Several glasses splashed across Alexander Voss’s expensive shoes.
“Shit,” she whispered, dropping to her knees immediately, napkin in hand. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Voss—”
Strong fingers caught her wrist, stopping her.
“Don’t.” His voice was low, velvet-wrapped steel. “Look at me.”
Elena lifted her gaze. Up close, he was devastating. His scent—dark spice and expensive cologne—wrapped around her like smoke. Those gray eyes burned into hers with something hungry. Predatory.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured, thumb brushing over her racing pulse. “Are you afraid?”
“No,” she lied. But her nipples had tightened painfully against her bra, and she was mortifyingly aware of how wet she suddenly was.
Alexander’s lips curved. He pulled her to her feet as if she weighed nothing, his hand lingering at the small of her back. The heat of his palm burned through the thin fabric.
“Elena Reyes,” he said, reading her name tag. His eyes flicked down her body slowly, shamelessly tracing her full breasts, the curve of her waist, the thick thighs pressed together. “You’re new.”
“Yes, sir.”
He leaned in, lips brushing her ear. “I don’t usually mix business with pleasure. But for you… I might make an exception.”
Elena’s pussy clenched at the dark promise in his voice. She could feel herself dripping, her panties soaked. This man was danger wrapped in luxury, and every cell in her body responded to him like a magnet.
Before she could respond, her supervisor appeared, horrified. “Mr. Voss, we’re terribly sorry. Elena, you’re dismissed for the evening—”
“No.” Alexander’s tone left no room for argument. “She stays. With me.”
The supervisor vanished. Alexander kept his hand on her lower back as he guided her through the crowd, away from the mess. Every person they passed stared. Elena’s face burned with embarrassment and something far more shameful—arousal.
He led her to a private balcony overlooking the glittering city. The moment the glass door closed behind them, the noise of the gala faded.
Alexander turned her to face him, backing her against the railing. His body caged hers without touching. “You’ve been watching me all night, Elena.”
“I—I wasn’t—”
“Liar.” His hand slid down her side, bold and possessive, cupping the generous curve of her ass through her skirt. He squeezed hard. Elena gasped, a soft whimper escaping her lips. “I saw the way your thighs pressed together when you looked at me. Are you wet right now?”
Her breath hitched. She should slap him. She should walk away. Instead, she nodded, shame and need twisting inside her.
“Words,” he demanded.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m… very wet, Mr. Voss.”
A low, satisfied growl rumbled in his chest. He pressed his thigh between her legs, forcing them apart. The hard muscle rubbed directly against her aching cunt through her soaked panties. Elena moaned, hips rolling instinctively.
“Good girl.” He gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes as he rocked his thigh against her. “I’m going to make you a very generous offer tomorrow. One that will solve all your problems. But tonight…”
His hand slipped under her skirt. Long, skilled fingers pushed her panties aside and stroked through her slippery folds.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “You’re dripping down your thighs.”
Two thick fingers plunged inside her without warning. Elena cried out, gripping his shoulders as he fucked her with them—deep, possessive strokes that curled against that perfect spot inside her. His thumb found her swollen clit and circled it mercilessly.
“Look at the city while I finger this greedy little pussy,” he ordered.
Elena stared out at the sparkling lights, legs shaking as Alexander worked her closer and closer to the edge. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers pumping into her soaked cunt filled the balcony.
“I’m going to own this body for one full year,” he growled against her ear, adding a third finger. “Every hole. Every way I want. And you’re going to come so many times you’ll forget your own name.”
The orgasm hit her like a freight train. Elena screamed, clenching violently around his fingers as she came hard, juices gushing down his hand and wrist. He didn’t stop, drawing it out until she was sobbing with pleasure.
When she finally sagged against him, he withdrew his fingers and brought them to her lips.
“Clean them.”
She obeyed, sucking his fingers into her mouth, tasting herself. Alexander watched with dark, burning eyes.
He stepped back, adjusting the massive bulge in his pants. “Go home, Elena. My lawyer will contact you in the morning. Say yes… and I’ll fuck you properly tomorrow night in my penthouse. Until you can’t walk.”
Elena stumbled out of the gala in a daze, thighs sticky with her own arousal, heart racing.
She already knew she was going to say yes.
