“Yes...” she hissed as she made a beeline for the documents.Emily read in silence, picking over the words, sentence by sentence, looking at the su...porting images, maps, places of interest. Two people were highlighted in the report.Him: Derek Forsyth, American, a businessman, early fifties, self-made, raised from rags to riches in six years, obviously a backer behind him, ruthless, known to carry weapons, property in the Bahamas, Virgin Islands, Spain and a yacht and private jet to get him. ”“Which ones?” I asked.“Let me take them in no particular order. Johannesburg; you own an estate there worth about ten million. You were last there three years ago for three nights. You sold off your corporate interests there and haven’t been south of the equator in that continent since.”“Sell it.”“Kyoto. You bought the property and antique home of a Samurai warrior eight years ago. You have stayed in the home a total of one week since buying it – two trips. Three years ago you agreed to open. ." she whispered. Her eyes were closed. She didn't know if she wanted to go through with it. She didn't know if she was ready, but she loved him. And her body was shivering. And his breath against her skin was driving her insane. That was enough, right? She pushed away a little, beginning to tell him to stop, but before she knew it, his soft lips were pressing against hers, and her mind was once more taken away, almost like she was unconscious. He did that to her. His smell, his skin, his touch. Next his pants drop to his knees, then to the floor too. His boxers were the only thing he had left on. He put a knee on the side of the bed. His hands gliding up my legs. He started to rub in circles around my clit, flicking his finger against it every few circles. I didn’t mean to but he turned me on before I could stop myself. I try to fight it but I can’t nor can I fight him. It isn’t long before the building orgasm washes over me. I moan out and my legs fight the shackles to tighten around.