Veil System: Running a Model, High-End Escort and Marriage Agency
Chapter 73: "They could be watching." **

Chapter 73: "They could be watching." **

Isabella thought he was done.

Her body was still trembling, legs weak, skin flushed, breath shaky. The aftershocks of her last orgasm still pulsed through her veins, leaving her sprawled against the couch, barely able to move. Her chest heaved, lips parted, her mind floating between exhaustion and lingering pleasure.

But Justin?

He wasn’t finished.

Not even close.

He loomed over her, broad shoulders casting a shadow over her limp form. His breathing was steady, controlled—nothing like hers, which was still ragged and uneven, his cock still hard, still coated in her slick, still throbbing against his stomach.

His lips curled into a dark, knowing smirk, and Isabella felt her stomach tighten with a mix of anticipation and dread.

Her mind screamed that she needed a break.

But her body?

Her body ached for more.

And Justin could tell.

"Baby," his voice was rough, teasing, full of wicked amusement. He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "That was a warm up!" Her eyes widened.

Before she could even react, before she could gather her strength, Justin had her in his grip again.

And this time?

She wasn’t getting a chance to fight back.

A startled gasp left Isabella’s lips as Justin flipped her onto her stomach in one swift motion. Her hands barely had time to press against the couch before—

SMACK.

A sharp slap against her ass made her gasp. Justin chuckled darkly behind her, his palm still resting on her soft flesh. He squeezed—hard.

"Look at you," he murmured, running his fingers over the fresh, reddening mark. "All dripping." She let out a sharp, shaky breath, her nails digging into the couch. He wasn’t wrong. Her thighs were still slick from their last round, her body already begging for him to fill her again.

But Justin?

Justin wasn’t in a hurry. Instead of taking her immediately, he leaned forward, pressing his chest against her back, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"You think you’re done?" His voice was deep, smooth—almost mocking.

She shivered.

Then, without warning—

THRUST.

Her mouth fell open in a silent scream as he slammed into her from behind, stretching her all over again.

There was no slow buildup this time. No teasing.

Just raw, unrelenting dominance.

Justin groaned, gripping her waist in both hands as he dragged her back onto him, forcing her to take every inch.

Her fingers clawed at the fabric of the couch, struggling to hold herself together as the obscene, wet slaps filled the room.

"J-Justin—!"

"You wanted round two?" His voice was rough, feral.

He reached forward, fisting her hair, yanking her head back as he pounded into her without restraint.

Isabella’s body rocked forward with each thrust, her breath completely stolen.

She couldn’t think.

She couldn’t do anything except let him use her.

The sound of their bodies colliding grew louder, faster, rougher.

Justin’s grip tightened around her hair, forcing her head up. He wanted her to feel every second of this.

And God, she did.

Just when she thought she might collapse—Justin moved. With a strong grip, he lifted her up off the couch without even pulling out. Isabella yelped, her arms automatically clinging to his shoulders, legs wrapping around his waist. Her body was weightless in his arms, helpless in his control.

And he knew it.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face as he walked them toward the window, his cock still buried deep inside her.

Her heart pounded.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

The massive floor-to-ceiling window stretched out before them, offering a panoramic view of the bar beyond. Dim bar lghts twinkled in the distance, billionaires bustling far below.

And here she was—bare, fucked-out, pressed against the glass and no one was wiser about it. Justin chuckled against her skin, his teeth scraping along the curve of her neck.

"Look outside," he murmured. "They could be watching."

Her breath hitched.

Shit.

The thought sent a sharp pulse of heat straight between her legs.

Anyone could look up. Anyone could see. Justin must have felt the way her body tensed, because his smirk only widened.

"You like that, huh?" he teased, rolling his hips in a slow, deliberate grind.

She moaned—loud, desperate.

The friction was insane.

Her bare chest pressed against the cold glass, her nipples hardening instantly from the contrast.

And Justin?

Justin was relentless.

With a sharp thrust, he slammed her against the glass, driving himself deeper. She cried out, her hands splaying against the window as she tried to brace herself.

It didn’t matter.

He was holding her. Controlling her. Fucking her like she was made for him. His pace was brutal, punishing, unyielding. Each thrust sending a fresh wave of pleasure crashing through her.

Each snap of his hips made her body shake, made her moans rise higher.

Justin watched her come undone, completely at his mercy.

And then—

She shattered.

Her orgasm hit her like a train, making her body seize in his grip.

Justin groaned as she tightened around him, milking him, dragging him closer to his own edge.

But he wasn’t done yet.

Not until he had her completely.

With one last push off the glass, Justin carried her to the longest couch and—

SLAMMED her down onto her back.

She barely had time to breathe before he was on top of her, pinning her wrists above her head.

Her legs spread wide beneath him.

Her body shaking, drenched, completely open for him.

And Justin?

He leaned down, lips ghosting over hers.

"You’re mine now," he whispered. "Every inch of you belongs to me."

Her breath hitched.

And then—

He fucked her like he was proving it.

Each thrust stole her breath.

Each stroke hit deeper, harder, rougher.

Her moans turned into screams, her body arching, her nails digging into his back. Justin captured her lips, swallowing every desperate cry as she shattered one final time beneath him.

And this time?

She didn’t recover.

Her body went limp, wrecked, conquered, claimed. Justin groaned as he drove into her one last time, spilling inside her, marking her completely.

And when it was over?

He collapsed beside her, his arm pulling her against his chest. Isabella’s breath was shaky, her entire body trembling, her eyes barely able to stay open.

Justin smirked, brushing his lips against her temple.

"You know there’s no going back after this, right? You mind, heart, soul and pussy would always come looking for me" he said.

She tried to speak—but all that came out was a weak, exhausted whimper.

Justin chuckled.

Yeah.

She was his now. Now what about the boss?

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