At His Mercy.
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Penelope Quinn once Penelope Nowak, a rich successful business woman hasn’t always been the independent rich successful woman she is. She is the daughter of a criminal minded art thief, working for her father as the Midnight Fox. Wanting a better life for herself she plots to leave home only to have her plans thwarted when her father contracts her to be married off. In an act of defiance, Penelope goes out to get drunk and has a one-night stand with a handsome stranger. He turns out to be Noel Greer, the man she was supposed to marry. Noel is furious to learn that his bride-to-be was the innocent blue-eyed, blonde princess who had seduced him the day before and he cancels their marriage. Heartbroken, Penelope runs away from home. A new start. Years later, Noel Greer wants Penelope back in his life and is willing to do anything to get her back – including blackmail. He wants to possess her. Soon after, her father comes back into her life needing her for one more heist. Someone is blackmailing him and he needs Penelope to help him. But there are obstacles. Albert Kowalski. Her father’s former right-hand man who says he is a friend but Penelope is not sure she can trust him especially when he has a seemingly successful business now. Another obstacle is the Phantom. No one knows who is he but seems to be the reason the chain of events begin unfolding in her life. Every road links to him, every heist points at him. He is neither enemy nor foe but he is dangerous nonetheless. Penny realizes old friends can't trusted when she suspects Noel may be her father's blackmailer. Or was it Albert the stunning, cool-headed ghost from her past?
On a warm summer night, tucked in the seedy corner club-packed backstreet of 4th avenue, pop music blasted from within through the half-open doors and broken windows. Clubbers danced toward the bar, where a lone bartender served drinks and left a glass or two of cheap whiskey or bottles of beer. Red and blue florescent lights dimly illuminated the worn-out tables and chairs on which patrons sat, some clubbers swayed drunkenly to the music while others sat in groups tossing back their drinks.
Among these, on a stool in front of the bar counter was a blond girl with her head bent over her bottle of untouched beer. She was a lone clubber. She shouldn’t be here, she knew that yet what choice did she have?
Her boyfriend – if she could even call him that anymore – had broken things off that earlier that day. Why?
Well because tomorrow she would be sold off to her father’s choice of a husband for her. It was all part of the job. As long as it benefits the “family” she had to do it. She had to marry her suitor. It could be an old man, a madman, or a 6-year-old boy, as long as father had the necessary connection to become fully legitimate, marriage to her suitor was necessary.
Slender fingers curved around the cold beer bottle and remained there. So lost in her thought was the blond girl that she didn’t notice she had company. Someone slid onto the squeaky stool beside her. It wasn’t until his rich perfume wafted into her nose that she lifted her head. But she didn’t look at him, she kept her eyes lowered. She wanted to be alone right now.
“Lonely?” came a rich baritone from beside her. “Let me guess, boyfriend walked out on you or you caught him cheating?”
Against her wish to not talk to anyone she lifted her eyes to his face. She paused.
He was beautiful. His gray eyes were dark in the full lights but she could see the twinkle in them, the danger and mystery in those eyes framed by long lashes drew her to them. His 5 o’clock stubble outlined a strong square jaw and high cheekbones and his lips were plump. She knew she was staring but she couldn’t help it when his gaze held hers boldly.
The man smiled slightly. He was aware of his raw rugged handsomeness. His gaze fell from her face to the beer she was clutching. He raised one thick dark brow.
The blond girl looked away. Her heart was racing and this was the first time it ever raced for a man, one she barely even knew for that matter.
“You know if you’re planning on getting drunk you need something stronger.” His dark eyes lifted to her face again. “Although you don’t look legal for whiskey.”
At this, she scoffed. “I am 18.”
It was his turn to laugh. “Fair enough.” Raising a hand he drew the attention of the overworked bartender who came running toward him and gave him his order. A moment later the bartender was back with an expensive-looking dark bottle and two glasses. While the man poured out the whiskey the blond girl watched him. She noticed the expensive diamond tie tack and the equally costly watch around his wrist. If this was a “work night” and this man was a “target” she would have relieved him of his expensive possessions and left the club before he blinked. She was that good at her “job” which was why she wondered why he wanted to marry her off.
“Here.” The man slid the drink toward her. She reached out impulsively, drawn by the raw magnetic pull of his strong voice, and took the glass from him. Their fingers brushed as she took the glass from him and raw need tingled from her fingers to her belly, twirling at the bottom of her belly. The man felt it too, he felt the attraction and for a moment he simply stared, enthralled by this blonde’s beauty.
He had seen her almost as soon as she arrived, and had watched her walk fluidly, almost unnoticed, to the stool on which she now sat. Innocent blue eyes trapped in a sinfully beautiful face drew him to her. He had waited an hour before making his move. Now he wasn’t so sure if that was the right move. She was just 18.
Yet she had deeply, worldly blue eyes and the full figure of a trained escort.
She took the glass of whiskey from him and boldly took a gulp only to sputter and cough violently. He was up on his feet before he knew it, offering a napkin which he grabbed from the counter. She was coughing in between choked-out laughter. He found himself smiling and leaning close until he could see the light of awareness in her eyes at their proximity. Neither of them pulled back. Her laughter died in her throat and in its place was a look of innocent curiosity. He heard her draw in a breath a moment before she leaned forward and took his lips with hers. The suddenness of it caused his eyes to widen.
The blond girl didn’t know why she kissed this man, but kissing him while slightly dazed by the alcohol stinging her nostrils seemed like the cure for her pathetic state right now. And when his strong arms closed around her, slightly lifting her off the stool, to kiss her back, she let him. He tasted of whiskey and male. Pure, smooth, and masculine. He moaned into her mouth and urged her lips apart to deepen the kiss. She clutched his shoulder tightly, fearing she would tip backward and fall. This was new to her. Sure she had been kissed before but this was…what this man was doing with his tongue and lips was magical. His tongue delved into her mouth, tangling with hers, filling her with more and more of him. When he pulled back slightly she followed his mouth and stopped just shy of kissing him again.
His thumb came to her mouth and began a slow caress of her lips. She parted her lips again, feeling bold by his boldness.
“Which is it?”
Instinctively she knew he was referring to the question he first asked her. She should lie to him, tell him she was taken to save herself from getting consumed by his heat but she wanted to know more, wanted to dove more into the sinful pleasures he offered.
“Neither,” she whispered. Her voice was husky. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she realized with disappointment that it was the same voice she used on her “targets”. But this was not one of her targets, this was a stranger, a dangerous stranger. She was intrigued.
The man wet his lips. “I have reservations in…”
They wasted no time getting into his car parked in the littered car park behind the club. The blond girl sat in front with the man, excitement and adrenaline running through her veins. She could feel the excitement thrumming the air between them. The man sat stiffly in the driver’s seat, guiding the car on the road, deftly avoiding drunken people making out on the side of the road. He did nothing to hide the bulge in his trousers.
The girl took a deep breath. Tonight…she was acting on impulse.
They got to the hotel and stumbled into the room. The man turned to turn the lights on and the girl hooked her fingers beneath her shirt and pulled it over her head. She heard his sharp intake of breath when he saw her bare breasts fall free. She was well aware of how endowed she was. It was why daddy sent her on formal missions because rich old money tycoons could never look away from her breasts. But this man, the look in his eyes was more than pure lust and she shivered under his dark gaze.
He closed the distance between them, hooked his index beneath her chin, and lifted her face until she was looking into his eyes. She wrapped her arms around him, caressing the hard back beneath his black shirt.
“You are young,” he said. More like a warning to himself than to her.
The girl wondered how old he was. It was hard to tell when he looked so good. His olive skin gleamed under the light so did his raven-black hair. Never had she seen anyone so handsome. This handsome stranger was now bending toward her breast, drawing one nipple into his mouth. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp as shivers raced through her body. His wet tongue dabbed over her sensitive nipple causing her to rise on her toes. Strong, lean fingers opened the button of her jeans and slipped in to caress her soft wet heat. She clenched her thighs together in an attempt to stop the tremors rippling through her but the man parted her thighs, grabbed her hips, and tugged until she was straddling his waist and throwing her arms around his neck. His mouth never left her breast and he devoured her mercilessly until she began to squirm for release.
She felt her back pressed up against the wall.
“This is wrong,” the man murmured against her breast, his lips skimmed the curve of her neck and captured her mouth again.
“It feels right,” she said. How naïve.
In an instant, her jeans were rushed off and pulled around her ankles. The man pulled back long enough to release his thick veined cock before lifting her again to slide into her hot, wet pussy. He suddenly halted when his cock head came in contact with something he hadn’t expected to find.
“You’re a virgin.”
He started to slide out before the damage was done but she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, twisting her hips to pull him in. His breath was strained, he was trying hard to keep from thrusting in.
“Please don’t stop,” she begged. “Don’t,” she whispered against his mouth.
“Darling, you shouldn’t give away something so precious…not to a man like me.”
“I don’t care, I want this,” she cried. “I want you.”
He stared at her, looking into her beautiful blue eyes, those eyes begged him, seduced him. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and she shyly licked her lips before pleading again.
The innocence and softness of her voice led him on. As he thrust in he felt her stiffen as her maidenhead gave way.
“It’s okay,” he whispered against her temple, holding himself still so that she could enjoy the moment as much as he was. “Relax, sweetie.”
And she did. She relaxed and twisted her hips, moaning when that drew him deeper into her.
The man groaned. Using the wall to support her weight he pulled back and thrust even deeper, she rewarded him with another drawn-out moan, urging him to thrust again and again and again, matching his thrust with her hips.
He couldn’t hold back anymore. He captured her lips with his, pumping his hips between her legs, feeling her tightness release and close around him rhythmically.
“You are amazing, so amazing, darling. Fuck me, sweetie, yes that’s it…find your pleasure.”
She tore her mouth away from his when the pressure in her clit became too much to bear. As her pussy tightened preparing for release she cried out, fingers pulling his hair as her toes curled and her insides shook deliciously.
“Oh God,” she moaned. “I love you. I love you.”
The man paused but in the next moment, he was pumping harder into her until he found his release moaning and jerking inside her.
That man was Noel Greer and the girl was Penelope Quinn.
Penelope grabbed her purse off the dresser. Meeting with a client in an hour. She was the boss, she called called the meeting as CEO and owner of Exquisite, her modeling and advertising agency company and she had one rule. Punctuality. Her business was her baby and she would not let anything destroy it or take it away from her.
She wasn’t called Ice Queen for nothing.
As she prepared for another day of success the door downstairs opened and Nancy, her maid who works five days of the week, climbed up the stairs to her room with the subtlety of an elephant in a circus. She opened the door and paused at the doorway eyes widening. Even after working for Penelope c for years, she still could not get used to the woman’s punctuality. She was a perfectionist in every way.
“Good morning, Miss Quinn.”
Penelope merely nodded never looking away from her reflection in the mirror. A light touch of concealer hid the circles around her eyes. She had stayed a
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