Page 41 of Fifth Avenue Devil

I don’t mean to come, but I can't wait any longer. As Nate begins to move, my climax crashes through me like a tidal wave. The tidal wave of pleasure sweeps away all my rational thoughts.

"Fuck, Nate," I gasp. “Fuck!!”

My fingers clutch at the silk sheets beneath me. The pleasure is almost too much to bear. But Nate’s eyes lock on mine, keeping me tethered to earth.

"Annalise," he breathes. His thrusts ease into a slow, steady rhythm, stoking the embers of my passion until they begin to glow once more. Our bodies move together in perfect sync. We come together, our cries of ecstasy echoing through the luxurious penthouse.

He stills for a moment, panting, before withdrawing from my body. He kisses my lips and then falls onto his side, a great beast sated for only a moment.

Sixteen

Nate

Will Annalise be at the gala I’m heading to? A part of me hopes so.

The sleek black car slides to a halt at the curb, its polished surface reflecting the bright city lights of Manhattan. I step out, the cool night air starkly contrasting with the warmth of the car that I just left behind. My gaze lifts to the grand hotel that dominates the skyline. Its facade is a testament to elegance, power, and most of all, money.

The revolving doors sweep me into another world. A world of glittering chandeliers casting prisms across the sea of high society. The hum of conversation fills the ballroom and blends with the subtle strains of a string quartet nestled in the corner.

I scan the crowd, noting the elegantly dressed attendees as they mingle, holding crystal flutes of champagne and nibbling delicate hors d'oeuvres.

There's a certain electricity in the air.

"Fordham!"

Heads turn when my name slices through the air. With a confident smirk, I stride forward.

“Nate.” I pivot toward the familiar voice. Cash stands there, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Alongside him is Drew, ViaLife's VP, who looms with that stern frown that seems etched into his features.

They're an odd pair. One dripping cocky charisma, the other as personable as a stone slab.

"Thought you’d never make it." Cash's voice is pissed, and it draws me away from the crowd. We move to the corner, our backs to a towering sculpture of abstract metalwork.

“I can’t remember a time when you two have ever willingly hung out together.” I cross my arms and look suspiciously from Cash to Drew. "What have you two been cooking up?”

"Archer Gellar," Drew says. His voice is low enough to be lost in the hum of the string quartet and clinking glasses. “The CEO of Gellar Industries? Well, he was the CEO until recently.”

I make a face. “Yeah, I certainly know all of that already.”

"Well, we have a plan to wring the last dollar from that old goat." Cash looks pleased with himself. Which in turn makes me doubly suspicious.

Cash always comes up with outrageous plans to short the stock market that only work out part of the time. It’s made him rich, but the amount of money he’s lost in the process is nauseating.

I raise an eyebrow and push out a breath. "Go on, then."

"His affairs are more than just rumors," Cash says. A crooked grin unfurls across his face.

Surprisingly, Drew nods along, complicit. "The affairs aren’t hard to uncover," he adds. "And we can prove it."

"So what?” I ask.

“So we leak them all to the press. We could get a bunch of the women together and pay them to sue him. You know the press will fall all over that kind of information. They’re always looking for a reason to shred a well-known man to ribbons.”

“So you would ‘Me Too’ Archer," I muse, rolling the concept around like a fine wine on my tongue. "Archer would be publicly shamed. Share prices would plummet. Then Gellar Industries becomes ripe for the picking."

Annalise already signed the merger docs, but I’m not ready to share that with Cash just yet.

"Exactly," they chorus, their eagerness palpable.

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