Sex with the CEO: A Billionaire Romance (The Midnight Collection Book 1)

Sex with the CEO

The Midnight Collection

Book 1

Kassandra Cross

This edition was first published in Great Britain in 2015.

Copyright ©
2015 Kassandra Cross

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

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Coming Soon…

The Midnight Collection

Book 2 – Love with the CEO

Book 3 – Kept by the CEO

The Taboo Collection

Book 2 – The Babysitter’s First Gangbang

Book 3 – Learning The Hard Way

Out Now…

The Taboo Collection

Book 1 – The Babysitter’s First Time

Sex with the CEO

The Midnight Collection

Book 1

Kassandra Cross

“In the midnight hour

she screamed

MORE
MORE
MORE…”

-Billy Idol

Chapter 1

Dexter Slade sat at the head of the conference table, his head in his hands. His mind was still racing over the events of the past hour. A huge explosion of spread sheets, confidential files and deal breakers laid out before him. His tie and top button undone, revealing a flash of tanned, bare flesh, glistening with sweat. He lifted his head, ran his hands down and moaned as he held onto Joy’s head. She bobbed up and down on his cock, her mouth slick, open and wet. Dexter’s pants were around his ankles and he thrust himself to the back of her throat. Grinding right into her and smudging her red lipstick all down her chin and onto her cheek. This was the only way he could possibly relax after the week he had had. Almost losing ten million pounds was not his idea of a good time, but this was, and Joy was the perfect person to take out his frustration. The easy PA, always eager to please her boss. And here she was at 7pm on a Friday night, on her knees with his dick in her mouth, praying for that bonus she had always wanted, but would never get. She was after Dexter. They all were, all of the woman at Slade Properties. Who wouldn’t want to fuck and marry the CEO of a multi-billion pound corporation? And Dexter knew it. He flaunted it. He loved watching Joy bend over backwards to try and get his attention and today she had finally done it.

              With her perfect rosebud lips wrapped around his helmet she nibbled him gently and slid right down his shaft to the balls. “Mr Slade,” she moaned when she came up for air, “You’re so hard, I need you in me.”

Dexter pushed her back down and mouth fucked her three more times before standing up and dragging her with him, he threw her on top of the portfolio he had been reading before she slinked in with her shirt unbuttoned and her skirt rolled over at the waistband to make it just skim her buttocks. He held onto her by the neck and ripped at her blouse. The buttons popping off one by one as he grabbed at her, clutching her pert little breasts in her lacy black bra. She flicked her blonde hair and moaned as he went for her panties. Tearing them off with his big, strong hands. He wanted to fuck her but he didn’t want to look at her pleading, desperate eyes so he turned her around, bent her over and plunged deep inside her. A huge wave of warm ecstasy washed over him and he shuddered as he thrust again and again. Joy screamed with pleasure and thumped her arms down on the desk, reaching around and grabbing his arse, driving him further into her. She was dripping wet and Dexter could barely hold on but he wanted to make it last, he wanted to delay the moment of release. He was so tense he needed it more than ever and that made him want the anticipation. He dug his fingers into Joys little, muscly arse and slapped it once, then twice. Thrust deeply inside her and felt her sex spasm as she screamed and orgasmed so loud it echoed around the room. He couldn’t hold on any longer, with one more thrust he exploded inside her. The warm rush of release paralysed him whilst he fell forwards and heaved on top of her. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead and onto her back, she moaned and he pushed himself into her one last time and groaned before pulling out and wiping his dick on her butt cheek.

              “Naughty, naughty,” he said. “I’m pretty sure that wasn’t in your job description.”

              “No, but it should have been,” Joy smiled and panted up at him, she turned over and sat up on the desk. Her hair was a dishevelled mess, her lipstick completely smeared and her clothes torn. “I’ve wanted that for weeks,” she grinned, “You’re amazing.”

              “You’re not so bad yourself, Miss Tate.”

She reached out and touched his chest. His perfectly tanned muscles flexing with the weight of his rapid breathing. She moved close to him and nuzzled into his shoulder. Dexter found himself flinching, he knew he really shouldn’t have done that. She was a beautiful woman, Dexter couldn’t deny it, and he had thought about this since the moment Joy had come to work for him and made it abundantly clear she wanted his dick. But now, here, in the midst of all the stress and his empire he was finding it hard to commit fully to the moment. He wanted to get the hell out of there, but guilt was washing over him.

              “That really was amazing,” he told her, “You’re a special girl.” And he did mean it. He wasn’t the sort of man who had to say things to please people and he sure as hell wouldn’t put himself out for a secretary, but he knew him and Joy would end here. He kissed her on the lips, longing and slow and looked into her eyes. “That doesn’t count as overtime,” he joked. And thankfully, Joy understood, she laughed and playfully slapped him on the shoulder, pulled up her panties and her jacket before blowing him a cheeky kiss and leaving the room.

Chapter 2

In the silence, Dexter sat back in his big black leather chair. He ran his hands through his dark hair and looked at his reflection in the blackness of the night on the windows. The city was alive and so was he. He felt more relaxed now than he had for weeks and he needed to enjoy it. He looked at his Blackberry and saw messages from Catherine. Ten messages to be precise. All in varying stages of panic and anger…

C: Hey Baby, are we having dinner tonight?

C: If you want to meet up I need a time, Dex!

C: Where are you?

C: Are you still working?

C: I’m stopping by your office.

C: The guard said you’d left? Where the hell are you?

C: Call me… x

Catherine. The on / off girlfriend who wasn’t afraid to hound Dexter until she pinned him down. He was supposed to marry her, he knew that. She wasn’t afraid of him and she wasn’t fazed by his success. Their families went way back and he would always remember him and Catherine playing show me yours, show you mine in the cupboard under the stairs when they were eleven years old and she was just starting to get the small bump of breast that later he would pay to have enhanced. It could have been fate when twenty years later they met again at a family Christmas party and had been introduced under the mistletoe. Catherine and Dexter’s mothers had both been twittering like birds about how perfect they could be, and
oh imagine the grandchildren! Have a kiss you two, go on!
But there was something about her that he always wanted to avoid. She was stunning, five foot ten, long leggy and lean, like a Victoria’s Secret model, and she commanded attention whenever she entered the room, but much like Joy there was something very predictable about Catherine and it had turned into more of a habit than an enjoyable relationship and meeting of minds. Dexter was with her to please his family. But he was getting to the point now, at the grand old age of thirty-five, where he really just wanted to please himself. And he wasn’t afraid to do so.

He pressed delete on Catherine’s messages and left the boardroom without tidying up any of the mess him and Joy had made. Dexter Slade didn’t tidy up for anyone and he certainly didn’t get bossed around by needy women. He wanted someone and something to keep him on his toes, something he wanted to be around. Something different, that excited him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he would know when he found it.

Out on the sidewalk he tipped the valet who brought him his red Ferrari Spider and he thundered down the street, this weekend he wanted to be out of the city. He wanted peace and tranquillity and the possibility of something else but he knew he had too much going on to just skip out on life for a few days. He had to stay and see this through. On autopilot he found himself driving the familiar route home. Even at 7:30 the roads were packed with traffic and he zipped in and out, jumping queues where he could and beeping and being beeped by furious motorists. With his mind still racing with figures and stocks and Joy’s red lips around his hard cock he was pulling into his underground parking before he even had chance to notice he’d been behind the wheel.

              Home was the top floor of Sky Tower, one of the tallest buildings in London. Dexter’s father, Howard Slade, had bought it in the 1970’s and turned it into a glittering haven for the superrich. Arabs and Russians flocked to buy apartments here with their oil millions and Dex had royalty and tech billionaires for neighbours. He loved it here, but he was as ever sick of the same old. He parked his Ferrari and was greeted immediately by his working aid, Marcus. Marcus was much like Joy, but at home, and he didn’t fuck him. Dex only had eyes for women, but he needed someone close by at all times to take care of his affairs. Marcus did everything. The only thing Dex had to do himself was eat, piss and sleep. Everything else, Marcus would pick it up and make Dex’s life as easy as possible. He had his private parking space, segregated away from anyone else’s in the building with its own private elevator which took him from the below ground parking area right up to the top floor.

              In the elevator Dex leaned back against the wall and exhaled. He was tired. And he could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, he sensed the anger bouncing through him from Catherine’s raging voice.
Where the fuck are you Dex?

             
Fuck you Catherine
, he thought.
Not tonight
. Even though he felt the familiar pang of excitement in his groin when he thought about her warm wet pussy, he shook the thought from his mind with the assurance that he may be tempted later if she stopped being such a bitch.

              When the elevator stopped the doors opened straight into the hallway of Dex’s huge, penthouse apartment. It was a bachelor pad alright, black marble floors, dark moody walls, tiger skin rugs and strange objects and artefacts he had found on his trips around the world when he was fresh out of university and still unsure of what he wanted to do with his life. Back in uni Dex was sure he was going to travel all over the world playing poker and screwing models but by a cruel twist of fate he ended up being one of London’s biggest power players in another arena. Real estate. His family owned most of the capital and had done for generations. When Dexter’s grandfather had died he became the sole heir to a monstrous fortune and a shit ton of responsibility he wasn’t sure he was ready for. Over the years he had adapted and thrived. He loved being so powerful and being able to get whatever he wanted. Cars, money, women. Anything he could get fast and leave at a moment’s notice turned him on. But lately something had been haunting him and gnawing away at the back of his mind, a heavy nag of dread that he didn’t have anyone to pass all of this onto. It had suddenly dawned on him that if Dexter died tomorrow, who would inherit his empire? Who would get all of the property and cars and wealth amassed over generations? He thought again of Catherine and of how easy would it be just to settle down with her, but he knew she wasn’t the one for him. They had never been exclusive and he wasn’t about to tie himself down now to the woman who hadn’t been exciting enough to engage his attention for more than a few hours at a time.

He remembered the last time they spent the night together, Catherine all lean arms and legs entwining herself around him and squeezing like an Anaconda, he felt the bones of her sticking into him and although she was beautiful he knew that that wasn’t enough anymore. He had screwed his way through half of London, been with some of the world’s most stunning women and had frankly, become quite bored by it.

              He sat down on his big leather L-shaped sofa and opened his iPad. Email upon email, unopened and screaming at him like he knew Catherine would when she finally got hold of him. He handed both his Blackberry and his iPad to Marcus. “Can you sort it all for me old boy?” he chirped in a mock gentrified accent.

              “Of course, Sir,” Marcus nodded and whisked it away.

              Now it was Friday night, he had blown Catherine off and he had unloaded work onto Marcus for the rest of the evening. It was only 8pm and even though tiredness coursed through him like a cruel illness he knew he had to live. Sitting in was not an option. Dexter Slade was ready for action.