My CEO's Blackmail Tape - Chapter 23: Chapter 23
You are reading My CEO's Blackmail Tape, Chapter 23: Chapter 23. Read more chapters of My CEO's Blackmail Tape.
Oliver's kisses grew feverish, his lips scorching against mine, and my resistance crumbled with every searing touch.
His breath hitched as he lifted me effortlessly, settling me onto his lap before burying his face between my breasts, his mouth blazing a trail of fire across my skin.
My gaze flickered to the opposite balcony, where a middle-aged man stood smoking, the glow of his cigarette cutting through the dark. The distance made it impossible to tell if he was watching—but the possibility sent a thrill racing through me. The danger of being seen only sharpened the hunger coiling low in my stomach.
Oliver groaned my name—no, her name—against my skin. "Mimi." His voice was rough, desperate. My stomach twisted, torn between shoving him away and aching for him to hike up my nightdress and claim me right there on the balcony.
The conflict was torture.
I refused to be her stand-in—yet I couldn't ignore the molten pleasure pooling inside me, drowning my better judgment.
Oliver pinned me beneath him, his mouth crashing into mine again, wet and frantic. The world narrowed to just us—the slick sounds of our kisses, the heat of his body, the way his hands trembled as they roamed my skin.
His restraint was slipping. His fingers slid beneath the hem of my nightdress, tracing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
I tensed, clamping my legs around his wrist.
His eyes burned into mine, dark with need. "I've never been with a woman before," he admitted, voice raw. "Please... let me have you."
A virgin. A slow, possessive warmth curled in my chest.
If he and Mimi had only ever kissed, if Nathan had been the only one to touch me—then I would be Oliver's first.
Should I really take him like this? The thought flickered and vanished. Right now, nothing mattered except the fire between us.
I looped my arms around his neck, a soft moan escaping as I met his gaze through half-lidded eyes.
He withdrew his hand, but the hard press of him against my core was impossible to ignore.
Yet he didn't rush. That control—that restraint—made him even more irresistible.
Even drunk, he wasn't reckless.
Just as he pushed up my nightdress, just as his fingers hooked into my panties—just as we teetered on the edge—his phone rang.
He fumbled for it, blinking at the screen. "Mimi?"
Then he froze.
His gaze snapped to me, his expression shifting from dazed desire to horrified realization. His face flushed crimson, and he scrambled off me so fast he nearly fell, landing hard on the floor.
The phone kept ringing, ignored.
We stared at each other. I was the first to look away.
The truth crashed over me—I had led him on. Even if he'd mistaken me for her, I had used him. Shame twisted in my gut.
"Evelyn, I—I'm sorry, I didn't—"
Stammering, his face burning, he bolted before finishing the sentence.
And just like that, he was gone.
But the fire inside me still raged, relentless and unfulfilled. I was left trembling, aching, tormented.
His breath hitched as he lifted me effortlessly, settling me onto his lap before burying his face between my breasts, his mouth blazing a trail of fire across my skin.
My gaze flickered to the opposite balcony, where a middle-aged man stood smoking, the glow of his cigarette cutting through the dark. The distance made it impossible to tell if he was watching—but the possibility sent a thrill racing through me. The danger of being seen only sharpened the hunger coiling low in my stomach.
Oliver groaned my name—no, her name—against my skin. "Mimi." His voice was rough, desperate. My stomach twisted, torn between shoving him away and aching for him to hike up my nightdress and claim me right there on the balcony.
The conflict was torture.
I refused to be her stand-in—yet I couldn't ignore the molten pleasure pooling inside me, drowning my better judgment.
Oliver pinned me beneath him, his mouth crashing into mine again, wet and frantic. The world narrowed to just us—the slick sounds of our kisses, the heat of his body, the way his hands trembled as they roamed my skin.
His restraint was slipping. His fingers slid beneath the hem of my nightdress, tracing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
I tensed, clamping my legs around his wrist.
His eyes burned into mine, dark with need. "I've never been with a woman before," he admitted, voice raw. "Please... let me have you."
A virgin. A slow, possessive warmth curled in my chest.
If he and Mimi had only ever kissed, if Nathan had been the only one to touch me—then I would be Oliver's first.
Should I really take him like this? The thought flickered and vanished. Right now, nothing mattered except the fire between us.
I looped my arms around his neck, a soft moan escaping as I met his gaze through half-lidded eyes.
He withdrew his hand, but the hard press of him against my core was impossible to ignore.
Yet he didn't rush. That control—that restraint—made him even more irresistible.
Even drunk, he wasn't reckless.
Just as he pushed up my nightdress, just as his fingers hooked into my panties—just as we teetered on the edge—his phone rang.
He fumbled for it, blinking at the screen. "Mimi?"
Then he froze.
His gaze snapped to me, his expression shifting from dazed desire to horrified realization. His face flushed crimson, and he scrambled off me so fast he nearly fell, landing hard on the floor.
The phone kept ringing, ignored.
We stared at each other. I was the first to look away.
The truth crashed over me—I had led him on. Even if he'd mistaken me for her, I had used him. Shame twisted in my gut.
"Evelyn, I—I'm sorry, I didn't—"
Stammering, his face burning, he bolted before finishing the sentence.
And just like that, he was gone.
But the fire inside me still raged, relentless and unfulfilled. I was left trembling, aching, tormented.
End of My CEO's Blackmail Tape Chapter 23. Continue reading Chapter 24 or return to My CEO's Blackmail Tape book page.