Chapter 6.
The evening was dedicated to work, a deep dive into the labyrinth of his new life.
Dinner, however, had been a magnificent reprieve.
Dominique, his private chef, had prepared a meal that was a symphony of flavors.
He had started with a delicate salmon tartare, the fresh fish and subtle spices a perfect, light beginning.
The main course was a perfectly cooked beef Wellington, the pastry light and flaky, the meat tender and flavorful.
He had finished with a rich, dark chocolate lava cake, the warm, gooey center a decadent indulgence.
This time, he was able to eat it without the delightful, though distracting, presence of Dominique under the table.
The food was so good that he had to close his eyes to savor every bite, every texture, every delicious moment.
He sat in his office until well past ten p.m., the silence of the tower a peaceful counterpoint to the busy hum of his new life.
Papers were stacked high on his desk, each one a request from one of his companies.
There were requests for policy changes, for expansions, and for more capital to do so.
Each one had to be gone over with a fine-tooth comb to see if the worth of these expansions could be justified by the profits they made.
He was going over a file for a factory in Louisiana.
They had requested the funds to build another factory floor and add more machines to up the production of their product.
Brian could see they made good profits and were consistent, but there was also something wrong with the numbers.
According to the sales, the company made over three hundred million dollars a year for the last three years, but they had only reported two hundred and fifty million, claiming the rest as cost of maintenance and pay for the workers.
Yet, Brian could see the hundred workers there made a combined total of only seven point six million dollars a year.
He also saw that the maintenance cost was twenty million dollars a year.
That meant there was over twenty-two million dollars missing every year.
He went back and checked the years before that.
The numbers were clean, the books were balanced.
It was just the last three years. What had changed?
He went over the papers again and noticed a new foreman had been hired three years ago.
The man was in charge of maintenance and payroll.
Brian went over the signatures and saw that this foreman had been signing for everything except the cost of the missing twenty-two million dollars.
"Constance, take a look at this," he said, his voice a low, hard murmur. He pushed the folder across the desk. She looked at the papers Brian had highlighted, her eyes, those beautiful emeralds, scanning the numbers with a speed and efficiency that was breathtaking.
"There is money missing," she said, her voice a low, calm whisper.
He nodded. "Over twenty-two million dollars a year, for the past three years."
She looked over the other papers. "The foreman is clean. His signature matches the payroll and the maintenance."
He nodded, a sense of cold, righteous anger building in his chest. "Do we have an investigator working for the corporation?"
She nodded. "Ballard Private Investigation," she said.
"BPI," Holly added, her voice a soft, professional counterpoint. "He is on a retainer."
"Send him down there," Brian said, his voice a low, hard command. "I want to know what the hell is going on."
Constance nodded and made the call, her voice a low murmur as she explained the situation. As she did, Holly took his hand, her touch soft and warm. "It's late, Brian," she whispered, her voice a gentle plea. "Maybe stop for the night?"
He smiled and nodded. He was tired, his mind a jumble of numbers and betrayals.
"So, tonight Constance will be joining you," Holly said, smiling.
"And if you have the energy, I will wake you as I did this morning…
tomorrow." She winked, a playful, knowing look in her eyes.
Having her in the shower again sounded like a heaven he was ready to experience again.
He smiled and kissed her, a soft, affectionate touch. "I will hold you to that."
She laughed, a light, airy sound. "I know.
" She then walked out, heading down to the ninety-first floor to her apartment, the one she would soon leave since she would be living on the ninety-eighth floor in the new apartments Brian was having made.
He was building his new world, and every piece of it was a testament to his power, his desire, and his growing love for the women who were helping him build it.
---
Brian stumbled backward, his calves hitting the edge of the bed, and he collapsed onto the soft, yielding mattress with a muffled thud.
The whirlwind of the day… hours of tension, stolen glances, and unspoken promises…
melted away as Constance took charge, her movements swift and predatory.
She was already gloriously naked, her skin glowing pale and luminous in the dim amber moon light filtering through the room’s heavy curtains.
Her curves were a study in perfection: full breasts swaying slightly, nipples hardened with arousal, and a tantalizing dip at her waist that led to the flare of her hips.
Before Brian’s upper body could settle from its bounce on the bed, Constance’s hands were at his waistband, deftly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants with a hunger that made his pulse race.
She tugged his pants and boxers down in one fluid motion, freeing his cock, which sprang up, thick and throbbing, already glistening with precum.
Constance’s eyes gleamed with raw desire, a low growl rumbling from her throat as she straddled him.
Her thighs, warm and firm, bracketed his hips as she positioned herself above his erection.
With a slow, deliberate descent, she sank onto him, her slick, tight pussy enveloping his cock inch by agonizing inch.
The sensation was electric… her heat, her wetness, the way her walls gripped him like a vice.
She let out a throaty moan, her head tilting back, dark hair cascading over her shoulders as she adjusted to his size.
“God, since the limousine, I’ve been dreaming of this,” she hissed, her voice low and husky, dripping with need.
Her hips began to move, a slow, sensual grind that set a deliberate rhythm.
Each roll of her pelvis pressed her clit firmly against his pubic bone, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her body.
Brian groaned, his hands instinctively finding her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh as he felt her clench around him.
Her movements were hypnotic… slow circles that became sharper, more demanding, as she chased her pleasure.
Her breasts bounced gently with each motion, the sight of her taut nipples driving him wild.
Constance’s breathing grew ragged, her moans soft but growing in intensity.
She leaned forward slightly, bracing her hands on his chest, her nails scraping lightly across his skin.
The change in angle deepened the penetration, and Brian felt her inner walls flutter, a telltale sign of her building climax.
Her hips rocked faster now, grinding harder, her clit rubbing against him with delicious pressure.
Suddenly, her body tensed, her thighs trembling as she tipped over the edge.
A long, shuddering moan tore from her lips as her first orgasm hit, her pussy pulsing around his cock.
Hot, slick juices coated him, dripping down his shaft and over his balls, the warmth and wetness intensifying every sensation.
She paused for a moment, panting heavily, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.
Her eyes, half-lidded with pleasure, locked onto his, a silent vow in their depths.
But she didn’t stop moving entirely… her hips resumed their rhythm, slower now, a lazy grind that kept him buried deep inside her.
“Brian… I’ll always be yours,” she whispered, her voice raw, vulnerable, yet laced with fierce devotion.
She leaned down, her breasts pressing against his chest, and captured his lips in a kiss that was all fire and promise…
deep, hungry, her tongue dancing with his in a slow, sensual tangle that made his cock twitch inside her.
Brian’s hands roamed her back, tracing the curve of her spine before gripping her shoulders.
With a sudden, powerful surge, he rolled them over, flipping her onto her back without breaking their connection.
Now he loomed over her, his body a heavy, commanding presence.
Her legs parted wider, instinctively, welcoming him deeper.
He began to thrust, slow at first, savoring the way her pussy gripped him with every stroke.
But the sight of her beneath him… flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyes glazed with lust…
ignited something primal in him. His pace quickened, hips snapping forward with a furious intensity that made the bed creak beneath them.
Each thrust drove him deeper, the wet, rhythmic slap of their bodies filling the room, mingling with her escalating moans.