[Kamilla]
"Fire me if you want to," I managed to say, reigning my cunt in. Because it was just that. A fantasy. I didn't want this man. He was an awful human being. "But I'm—"
"Sexy Kitten Writes AKA Kamilla Henderson, sole heiress to billionaire Mark Henderson. You didn't go to some third rate business school. You graduated from Harvard. Summe Cum Laude. Top of your class. Why do you think you're my receptionist?" his no nonsense voice cut me off and my heart jumped into my throat.
He didn't just know about my online persona. My dream of becoming a recognized, renowned writer. He knew everything, including my real identity, when he hired me.
"If you knew who I was, why did you hire me?" I asked sharply. My plain jane, quiet mouse persona took a back seat to meet the challenge he was posing to my way of life head on. "For all you know, I could be a corporate spy. Ryder Industries and Henderson incorporated—"
He cut me off by laughing in my face again, like the idea was utterly ridiculous. This time I wasn't turned on or on the verge of swooning like a fucking school girl. Watching him laugh at me pissed me off.
No. Nope. No way. I wasn't going out like this. I wasn't giving up on my dream for this asshole. I spent the last six months hiding out quietly, working hard to blend in at Ryder Industries as Kamilla Matthews, going unnoticed while I built my fan base. This dick wasn't taking that from me. Not him. Not my father. No one.
"Kitty has claws. That's cute. Seriously though, where the fuck is all that intellect when you're filing shit or making coffee?" he deadpanned, the coy smirk back on his face as he leaned in closer to give me a once over. "Or when you get dressed in the morning."
I had no problem with the way I dressed. The baggy, hipster clothes and clunky glasses helped me play the part of the forgotten wallflower. Whenever I stood next to my parents, I was Kamilla Henderson. The heiress born with a golden spoon in her mouth. I liked Kamilla Matthews. Down to earth. Friendly. Real. Normal. Not on every fuck boy's must fuck list.
"This is over. I quit," I said, rising to my feet, indignant.
"There she is. Rich bitch. Sexy times writer. The real you. Hello Kamilla. Sign the fucking NDA. Your starter pack is already on your desk," he said, waiting on me expectantly, like I had no choice in the matter.
He had never spoken to me this way before. Sure he was still being a dick, but today I wasn't a wallflower. He was looking. At me. Really looking. I rubbed my thighs up against each other. Anger. Arousal. Embarrassment. Fuck my cunt for liking his attention.
"Starter pack?" I asked, the curiosity getting the better of me.
"Yes kitten. Your starter pack. My little one likes props. I had to shop for you to accommodate your kinks. Don't make me tell you again," he said, tapping the contract in front of me, a bored look on his face.
"Go fuck yourself," I seethed. "The likes of you is never laying hands on me."
"Leave then," he said sharply, the usual hot headed asshole that he was making an appearance. "But if we don't fuck tonight, you're done using me to hide, kitten. I'll tell the world about your… Sexy secret, Miss Henderson," he said bluntly, a determined look on his face. "Including your father."
Game. Set. Match. He had me right where he wanted me. Kamilla Henderson didn't give two fucks what the world thought. I wasn't throwing away my billionaire heiress lifestyle for shit though. Giving up my dream wasn't an option either. Hence the double life. Keeping my father appeased with this stupid job. Somehow my dickhead boss knew all this.
Flickers of lust lit up his too gorgeous green eyes. Impossible. He couldn't actually want me, could he? Why else would he be doing this though?
Alarm bells went off as I swallowed. The hostile takeover of Henderson Incorporated by Ryder Industries obviously popped into my head. They were calling it a merger, but Zade and my father both knew it was tug of war. I wasn't about to let this dick make me the rope.
"What exactly are you asking for?" I asked, holding my head up high.
I might not have been actively working for Henderson Incorporated, but I was in enemy territory and he fucking knew it all along. My company. It was destined to become mine. Did he really think he could fuck with my head? Talk me into helping him steal it out from under my father?
"One night. No strings. Let Master fuck you silly, kitten," he said, seduction in his voice.
I was just a woman after all. This shit was so fucking hot. But getting into bed with the enemy was a rookie mistake.
"No talking shop?" I asked anyway, grasping at straws, trying to think of what his end game was as he sauntered over to my side of the desk. "No one tells Kamllia Henderson what to do. If you think I'm going to let you manipulate me with a good dicking—"
"Tonight, I fucking do. Just like in your naughty head. Hate fucks are fun, little one. Master promises," he said, coming up behind me to take my hand, still holding the pen and guiding it to the contract. "Now fucking sign."
I looked over my shoulder and our eyes met again.
"May I think about it?" I asked, the warmth of his hand touching mine making my heart race once more.
"It's not a request, kitten. I'm fucking you tonight or Henderson is going to have a shitstorm to deal with when his board finds out his heiress writes porn," he said matter of a factly, but his eyes held the promise of something else, lurking just beneath the surface.
"Okay Zade. You want to play? Let's play. But I want an NDA too. Sexy Kitten Writes belongs to me exclusively. The moment you say one word about her to anyone, I want half of everything you own," I said, tugging on his tie, drawing him in. "Including any acquisitions made after this agreement."
Just in case his hostile takeover was successful.
"You're so sexy right now," he said, taking my glasses off and peering at my face, studying it. "How about we backpedal to chapter one? Your panties can be your gag and my tie your blind fold, little one," he said, his lips closing in on mine.
My breaths were coming in quicker. All the blood from my brain went south.
"I'm not a cheap, stupid whore, Zade. Fucking me is costly," I said, turning away from him and tossing the pen onto the desk. "Take it or leave it."
"I thought you might say that. The NDA goes both ways. In the event of a breach of contract (including of confidentiality) the offended party shall have the right to acquire sole ownership of the breaching party's assets," he read over my shoulder.
The scent of his aftershave wafted to my nose as he leaned over my body to read the clause, clouding my judgement. I shook it off, picking up the contract and skimming over it.
"I need time to read the rest," I insisted, feeling like he was toying with me.
Run of the mill legal jargon hit me head on. Where the fuck was the trick? There was no way all he wanted was a fuck. Even billionaires aren't above suspicion when you're Kamilla Henderson.
"No time. In thirty seconds, my PR team will release a statement about Sexy Kitten Writes to Henderson Incorporated's board members. Unless I call to stop them. Your call," he whispered huskily into my ear, making me shiver.
I flipped through the pages of the contract quickly. Long forgotten was my concerns about preserving my virtue. All I could see was the dilemma before me. Did I take my chances and trust Zade? Or the anxious board members?
"Ten, nine, eight," he counted down into my ear, showing me the timer on his phone. "Sign, kitten. Master promises to be a brutal fuck. Five, four, three..."