Adult Industry System-Chapter 113

Chapter 113: Chapter 113
"Saved me for you?"
​The words echoed in the small space between us. I knew exactly what she was implying, but hearing it from the woman who held my life in her hands felt surreal. I needed to hear her say it. I needed to see if the ice-cold "Monet" could actually melt.
​"Saved you... for me?" I repeated, my voice dropping into a low, questioning rumble.
​She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she let her hand wander across the expanse of my chest. Her touch was electric; even through the fabric of my shirt, I could feel the heat of her palm. Her manicured nails grazed my skin with a deliberate, agonizing slowness that sent a jolt of pure fire straight to my gut.
​"You know exactly what I mean," she whispered, her voice a smoky invitation.
​Suddenly, my mind flashed back to the first time I met Holmes on set.
"Big Mom hired me because she doesn’t like the mediocre films you’ve been shooting,"
he’d told me. At the time, I thought she was just an investor protecting her bottom line. Now, looking at the hunger in her eyes, the truth was much more carnal.
​She wasn’t just checking the analytics; she was studying the movement. She had been watching me—watching the way I moved, the way I took control, the way I dismantled women on camera. I wondered if she had sat in her high-rise office, late at night, rewinding my scenes. I wondered if she’d imagined herself in the place of those actresses, feeling the weight of my body and the relentless drive of my cock.
​"I didn’t think in a thousand years I would see the day you would want to make a move on me," I said, my confidence returning as the power dynamic shifted.
​She smiled, her hand lingering over my heart, which was now beating with a heavy, rhythmic thud. "Well, isn’t it every woman’s dream to be pounded by a man with a cock like yours? A body that sexy? I have been watching you, Druski. Your skills are... unparalleled. You have a gift for making women forget who they are. I want to see if you can do the same to me."
The Queen of the Streets had been turned into a fan by her own star.
​"I don’t get it," I said, narrowing my eyes as I looked down at her. "You literally own me. You control my career, my house, my life. And all of a sudden, you want to have sex with me? Why now?"
​Monet stepped even closer, the silk of her gown brushing against my trousers. She reached up, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling my head down until our lips were inches apart.
​"Because power is boring when you have no one to fight against, Druski," she hissed, her eyes flashing with a mix of lust and challenge. "I’ve had everything money can buy. I’ve had men who bowed to me because they feared me. But you... you’re the first one who looks at me like you want to break me. And I want to see if you’re man enough to actually try."
She leaned back slightly, allowing the silk of her gown to whisper against her skin as it fell open. The contrast was breathtaking—the deep crimson of her lace bra against the rich, dark mahogany of her skin. Her nipples, dark and firm, strained against the delicate mesh, peaking through like a forbidden promise. She didn’t look like a crime lord; she looked like a masterpiece of high-end sin.
​"Forget the business, forget the Russian in the other room," she whispered, her voice a low, melodic rasp. "This morning, I’m not Big Mom. I’m just Monet. And I want to see if my most valuable asset can handle the Queen of the Streets."
​My mind raced. First, it had been Abigail, her lethal right hand. I’d seen the cracks in Abigail’s armor, the way her breath hitched when I got too close. Now, it was Monet herself, the woman who held the strings to the entire city. Was I really going to conquer both the General and the Queen before the y
GTA six?
​If I broke her—if I made her addicted to the taste of my cock—the power dynamic would flip. I wouldn’t just be her "asset" anymore. I’d own the studio, the finances, and the very woman who thought she owned me.
​"Seems like you’ve really been thirsty, Monet," I said.
​"I couldn’t have sex with these worthless dogs that fear me," she hissed, her eyes locking onto mine with a raw, unshielded hunger. "You stood your ground in that warehouse. You complimented my beauty while you were staring at a grave. No one dares to talk to me like that, but you? You had the balls. That’s what makes a woman like me wet. A man who isn’t afraid to take what he wants."
​She reached down, her palm pressing firmly against the bulge in my trousers. Even through the fabric, the heat of her touch was searing. My cock was already a Pillar of Iron, throbbing in response to her touch.
​"Only a cock like yours can make a woman like me feel like a dirty little slut," she breathed into my ear, her teeth grazing my lobe. "I want you to give it to me. Hard. I haven’t come in years, Druski. The last man to reach me was my ex-husband, Thomaso, five years ago. Since then? Nothing but ghosts."
​Thomaso. Whoever he was, he was in the past. I was the present, and I was about to show her a future she couldn’t survive.
​"I’ll give you exactly what you need, Monet," I said, my hands reaching out to claim her slim, hourglass waist.
​But as my fingers brushed the silk, she stepped back, a sharp, flicker of distaste crossing her regal features. She flared her nostrils, inhaling the air around me.
​"No," she said, her voice regaining a sliver of its cold authority. "You can’t touch me with those hands. Not while you smell like a whore."
​The scent of Lana. The expensive champagne, the sweat, and the musk of a marathon session were still clinging to me. To a woman like Monet, it was a territorial insult.
​"Take a shower," she ordered, pointing toward the en-suite bathroom. "Wash her off your skin. I’ll be waiting right here on this bed. I’m not going anywhere... not until I feel that cock inside me."
​I let out a low, confident grin, feeling the power shift in the room. "If you say so, Ma’am. But don’t expect me to be gentle when I come back out."