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Craving My Dad's Billionaire Bestfriend Novel Cover

Craving My Dad's Billionaire Bestfriend

Camille Caldwell is sent by her wealthy father to learn business under his trusted friend, billionaire Gavriel Donovan. While she initially aims to impress her mentor for her father's sake, a magnetic attraction soon leads to a dark, illicit affair. Gavriel never expected to desire his friend's daughter, but their professional bond dissolves into raw passion. Now, they must decide if their lust is worth destroying Gavriel's reputation and his oldest friendship.
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Chapter 2

Camille's POV

"Thanks for driving me home, Megan," I muttered, staring at the huge Caldwell mansion before me.

"It's nothing," Megan replied, giving me a soft smile. Her green eyes glistened with unshed tears, and I sighed.

"Megan, for the last time, I'm okay,"

"You got grabbed at!" she cried, throwing her arms around me.

She had picked me up from the club. I had given her the short version of what had happened. A man grabbed me, and someone saved me. The longer version would have included me bent over, begging my 'saviour' to fuck the daylights out of me.

I couldn't tell her that!

"I am fine," I told her, patting her back. "I have to go. The lights are off, thankfully."

Megan pulled away then, swiping her auburn hair out of her face. "Shouldn't you tell your father you need money? You're Camille Caldwell!"

"I am also a grounded 22 year old," I said, pursing my lips. "I'll figure this out Megs, drive home safe, okay?"

One last hug and I stepped out of the car and slipped through the gates. A short maxi dress covered the lace lingerie I had wore while stripping, yet I could feel the cold whipping at my skin.

A flash of me, on my knees before that utterly delicious man, begging to be fucked ran through my head and I stifled a moan. I should not be turned on! It was silly and dirty and...

... You're a naughty little slut aren't you?...

His voice rang in my head making my nipples tighten. I shook my head, trying to focus as I snuck through the living room. The lights came on and my father sat on the sofa, his blue eyes, the same shade as mine, glared at me.

"Hi Dad," I gave a sheepish grin.

"Where have you been, Camille?!" He demanded, rising on his feet.

I shrugged and heard him grit his teeth. "Do not play games with me, young lady! You were supposed to be in your room!"

"I got bored!" I replied, shrugging again. "What the hell am I supposed to do all day, dad? Stare at the wall?"

"You were supposed to reflect on what you had done! On all the things you had done!" My father yelled. "I gave you the very best of things! I sent you to the best schools! And what have you done with your life Camille? Besides drinking and partying and almost killing someone else!"

That struck me. Tears stung my eyes but I bit my lip holding them back. "It was an accident!"

It had happened a few weeks ago. We had been returning from the club and one minute I was driving at break neck speed, the next minute there was some crazy girl trying to cross the road.

I hadn't meant to hit her!

"She may never walk again!" Dad thundered. "Do you have any idea how much I have paid, to make sure her parents never send you to prison?!"

I scoffed and turned, trying to climb the stairs that led to my room. "Let's not pretend you did it for me, Dad. You did it to save your reputation!"

"That's enough!" He yelled. "I have had enough. Grounding you isn't enough. I have given you too much freedom growing up and look how you turned out so irresponsible. You will learn responsibility."

"Yeah sure whatever Dad," I muttered, taking a step when he spoke again.

"You resume work as Donovan's secretary on Monday!"

"What?!"

Donovan? Gavriel Donovan? He was my father's best friend, the coldest man on earth and the man who I had spent all my teenage years crushing on. Tall, handsome but way too old to be on my radar. I hadn't seen him since I was sixteen! And if Dad spoke to him to get me a job as his secretary, he was definitely going to treat me like a child.

"No!" I grumbled, folding my arms.

My father laughed harshly. "Camille, I am not giving you a choice. It's either that or we speed up your marriage to Chad Martins!"

"No way! I don't want to marry Chad! He has to be the most boring bloke ever!"

"I don't care!" My father yelled. "Three strikes. For every time you fail to be the perfect secretary to Gavriel, You'll get a strike. The minute they turn three, Camille, you'll be married off to Chad Martins by the very next day!"

And with that he walked past me, climbed the stairs, ignoring my screams.

_____

"Come here,"

That deep husky timbre filled my ears and my eyes opened. I was back at the club, dressed in my lace lingerie standing before him. His huge body filled out the chair he sat on, and those eyes burned holes on my skin everywhere they touched.

"Come here, my pet,"

His pet. My thighs quivered. I walked towards him slowly, the sounds of our breathing filling the air. I stopped only when my knee brushed his thighs and heard him mutter a curse.

His shirt was gone revealing a set of dreamy abs. My mouth and pussy watered. I needed him so bad.

"Knees," he ordered. "Your knees, pet."

I obliged, falling on my knees while facing him. He reached over, pulling on my panties and I arched in pleasure. Oh that felt good. My pussy throbbed desperately for more.

More of him.

He spanked my ass then, hard and repeatedly, driving me crazy.

"Please," I cried when a hand found my nipple and clamped around it. "Please more! More."

"You want more? You want me inside you?"

My eyes fell on the swollen dick and I nodded. I couldn't wait to see it. To taste him. To feel him roughly grab my hair as he fucked my mouth. And then feel that huge monster fill and stretch out my pussy.

"Tell me!" He hissed, cupping my jaw. He leaned low, warming my face with his breath. "Tell me what you want!"

"I want your cock," I moaned.

"Mhmm, where my pet? You're going to have to be a little more specific." He ordered, giving my cheeks a light slap. My pussy clenched at the hit. "Where do you want my cock?"

"In my pussy! Please,"

"Such a good girl, " he praised, leaning over to smack my ass, before withdrawing. I watched him slide down his trousers, and the most magnificent cock I had ever seen sprung out.

He hooked my panties with his finger and ordered in that grumpy voice of his. "Take it off, take it all off."

"Yes,"

He seemed pleased, spanking my ass lightly as he watched me peel off the bra and thong.

"Turn around," he mumured and I obliged.

His hands reached for my breasts, stroking them, kneading them.

"You like my tits?" I whispered and he made a low raspy noise in his throat before speaking.

"Suck them, I want to see you take them in your mouth."

Cupping my heavy mounds, I pushed one up towards my mouth. Holding his hot gaze, I licked the nipple and sucked on it.

He hissed, his face contorting as if in pain as he watched me suck. "That's it pet. Suck on your titties."

"Mhmm," I hummed, raising the other mound and sucked on the turgid nipple. It felt so good. Knowing he was watching. Knowing I was giving him pleasure. I flicked the nipples with my tongue, propping my breast together until the valley between them disappeared.

He groaned loudly, stroking his cock, and then my alarm rang. The dream faded away as my eyes opened, revealing the ceiling in my bedroom. My breathing was heavy, the dream had felt so real. So hot. I laid on my bed, nipples stiff and begging to be touched. My pussy was sopping wet underneath my silk night dress and I desperately wished he was here.

Hazel eyes. Hazel.

I would bet he could make me cum just by staring at me with those sexy eyes.

Shoving aside the bed covers, I parted my thighs. The silk dress fell to my waist, revealing my bared pussy. Closing my eyes, I slid a hand over the wet quivering pussy, imagining he sat before me like he did in my dream.

Those hazel eyes would burn as he watched me touch myself. I ran my fingers through my lips, tensing and melting under the pleasure that coursed through my veins. He would spank me hard if he were here.

Spank my pussy where it burned until I shook and trembled from his touch.

I fondled my breasts with my free hand as I rubbed between my thighs. I had never been this horny, so horny before. I had never offered my pussy to a stranger to fuck in public either. I slipped two fingers inside me. They were no where near as thick as his invading fingers, but I imagined they were.

I imagined I was back there in that corridor, my pussy exposed for him to use. To own. To command. To fuck.

I imagined that I hadn't run off. That I had remained on my knees and watched him yank down the pants he wore. His cock would spring out, hot and hard and huge.

Finding the hood of my clit, I shuddered, trying to finish the damned dream in my head. I wanted to be sprawled before him. Before those burning eyes his fingers toyed and played with me. I wanted him to say those nasty words as he did so.

Is this what you want, pet? Such a dirty slut aren't you. Look at that greedy little pussy wrapped around my fingers.

"Yes!" I cried, rubbing faster. My juices pooled, wetting my fingers, coating them.

I'd bet they had coated his fingers that way yesterday. Had he licked them? Would he love the way I tasted? I could see him on his knees, face buried between my thighs, that hot wicked tongue, probing and licking and teasing my cunt.

"Yes!" His teeth graze against my swollen pussy lips and he pulls at them. Sucking licking, tonguing the fuck out of me. Pleasure pulsed and built up in my veins and I arched my back, rubbing my clit faster, moaning as my climax hit. "Oh yes yes YES!"

I gushed as I orgasmed, my head went light and dizzy, my body went limp and crashed deeper into the bed and for a minute I laid there, shuddering and breathing heavily.

"That was fucking delicious," I murmured, staring back up at the ceiling with a grin.

My phone pinged and weakly I groaned, trying to grab it off the bedside table. There were two notifications. The first was from Jordan, my ex boyfriend. The jerk was asking for the cash I had promised to send to him last night. The cash I would have gotten if I hadn't run off from the club. I swiped his message aside and opened the next. An email. It was the club. A client had requested my services.

"On the pretext," the mail read. "That you perform for him and him alone."

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