T.L. Swan

History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it,” I say.

“Quoting Winston Churchill now, Mr. Miles?” she breathes.

Damn it, Emily, why do you always take the hard way? Why do you always fall for the wrong guy? The last man had no motivation, and this man has too much. Both men didn’t care enough to go the extra mile for me. Maybe my expectations are too high from my book boyfriends in my romance novels—maybe Jameson was right on that one. But damn it, I want the fucking fairy tale for once.

The elevator door opens, and I walk

I hold his face in my hands. “God, you’ve got a beautiful cock,” I whisper. “Is it weeping for me, baby?” I whisper as I clench around him. “I can feel your pulse in it.”

He gives me a slow, sexy smile as he pumps me