crave

  THE MARCANO MOGULS SERIES

  J.L. QUICK

  CRAVE COPYRIGHT

  © 2023 by J.L. Quick Books LLC

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design: J.L. Quick

  Created with Vellum

  To all my thirsty ladies…

  This book is dedicated to

  the memory of your dry panties.

  author’s note

  This novel is a contemporary dark romance. It contains scenes and descriptive adult content that might be triggering for some readers.

  Please ensure you read the trigger warnings prior to beginning this novel.

  trigger warnings

  Stalking

  Blood/Cum Play

  Graphic Sexual Scenes

  Dubious/Non-Consensual Sexual Acts

  Gun Violence

  Narcotics

  Torture/Mutilation

  Exhibitionism

  Edging/Orgasm Control

  Death

  Dismemberment

  *reference only*

  Child Sexual Assault

  Sex Trafficking

  Contents

  1. one

  2. two

  3. three

  4. four

  5. five

  6. six

  7. seven

  8. eight

  9. nine

  10. ten

  11. eleven

  12. twelve

  13. thirteen

  14. fourteen

  15. fifteen

  16. sixteen

  17. seventeen

  18. eighteen

  19. nineteen

  20. twenty

  21. twenty one

  22. twenty two

  23. twenty three

  24. twenty four

  25. twenty five

  26. twenty six

  27. twenty seven

  28. twenty eight

  29. twenty nine

  30. thirty

  31. thirty one

  32. thirty two

  33. thirty three

  34. thirty four

  35. thirty five

  36. thirty six

  37. thirty seven

  38. thirty eight

  39. thirty nine

  40. forty

  41. forty one

  42. forty two

  43. forty three

  44. forty four

  45. forty five

  46. forty six

  thank you for reading

  also by j.l. quick

  one

  ANDRES

  I can’t fucking get enough of her.

  The sudsy water slides over her ample breasts, her pink nipples tight even in the hot steam of the shower. The bubbles continue to fall down her side and over that perfect roll just above her hip. The one I can’t wait to grip my fingers onto as I relentlessly pound myself into her.

  Fuck…

  Sliding over her generous hips, the soap continues to work its way down her body. So perfect and curvaceous, like her round ass that I dream about sinking my teeth into. Leaving it, and the rest of her, covered in my marks.

  Her hands entangle in her hair as she rinses the last suds from it. I envy the bubbles sliding over the plump lips of her cunt and down her thick thighs, waiting for the day they are replaced with my lips and tongue.

  The day I finally get to worship my queen.

  Mi reina…

  “You will be fucking mine,” the words quietly grumble breathlessly from my chest. They fog over her bathroom window as I expel them, obstructing my view of her. The thought of missing even a moment of her perfection nearly makes me panic.

  Quickly yanking my shirt sleeve over my fist, I rub the fabric over the glass to remove my breathy residue. Relieved to see her once again, I expect my racing heart to slow. Instead, it only beats faster when I watch her fingers press between the skin at her upper thighs.

  “Soon enough, mi reina. I’ll be the one to worship you and fulfill each and every one of your needs,” my cock twitches as it grows inside my pants, fighting to get free.

  Watching her fingers dip into her cunt and slipping out to circle her clit, I am unable to fight my urges. My fingers work deftly to undo the buttons of my jeans, needing to free my throbbing cock. With one hand wrapped tightly around my length, the other presses against the glass pane of the window as I fight to be closer to her.

  “That’s it,” my tight fist repeatedly slides over my shaft, “show me how to please you.”

  Her fingers continue to work diligently over her clit as the steamy water continues to cascade over her body. I hear her faint moan and watch as her roaming fingers cause her head to tip back into the stream of water behind her. It trickles down her face, her heavy breaths causing droplets to blow from her pouty, pink lips.

  “Come for me,” I work myself harder as I pant. “Let me watch you come, mi reina.”

  Our hands working us each to the brink, our chests heave in unison. I watch as her lips tremble, hungering to hear the whimpers that I know are quivering over them. Her thighs squeeze around her hand and her eyelids flutter, the sweet sound of her orgasming causing mine in return.

  “Fuck,” the deep groan billows from my chest as my cum splatters across the window pane.

  Tucking my cock back into my pants, she turns off the water and wraps herself in a towel before retreating to the adjoining bedroom.

  Just one of the many places I intend to claim her very soon.

  Sliding my hand through the cum dripping down the window, I smear it across the glass before swiping my finger through the glaze.

  MINE

  My claim on her now frosted across the glass, I wait on the fire escape until she turns out the bedroom light.

  “Good night, mi reina.”

  She will be mine.

  two

  ALEXYS

  Fixating on the ground before me, my heels click down the dimly lit sidewalk. Their repetitive sound reverberates down the eerily silent, dark city street. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end at the feeling of being watched. I spin around, expecting to find someone behind me.

  No one is there.

  No one is ever there.

  Listening intently, the only sounds I hear are the accelerated beating of my heart and my rapid breathing. I stare into the darkness I just walked from, futilely trying to prove to myself that there isn’t anyone following me.

  My heels click faster than before; fear spreads through my body as fast as the goosebumps prickle over my skin. Fingers slide over my shoulder, and suddenly, my feet are rooted in place. When my lips part, the only sound from my mouth is a silent, breathy scream. My heart thumps in my chest as another hand snakes around my body, slowly pulling me into the darkness.

  Rapid, heavy breaths blow from me as the sweat beading along my hairline drips down my temples. Sitting up straight, I clutch my chest, trying to catch my breath. My hand fists at my shirt, drenched in sweat, the tight, wet fabric feeling as though it is suffocating me. Grabbing the hem, I peel the damp fabric from my skin and toss it to the floor. My skin pimples in goosebumps as the sweat evaporates from my skin, chilling me to the bone.

  My whole body trembles from the chill – or fear – and I pull the blanket over my shoulders in a futile attempt to warm myself. Laying back on the pillow, I cringe at the wetness against my face.

  Is that sweat?

  Or was I crying in my sleep?

  Either way, it’s gross.

  Sitting up, I flip the pillow before curling into a ball beneath the blanket and staring into the darkness.

  This ridiculous nightmare has been plaguing me for weeks. Between staying up too late in attempts to avoid it or it waking me from my sleep, I can’t remember the last time I actually had a solid night of sleep. Rolling over, I read the alarm clock: 04:02.

  As much as I was hoping to start my first day of work well-refreshed, I guess I’ll have to settle for the endorphins of a run. I climb out of bed and flip on the light to find a sports bra and some leggings in my dresser. Once dressed, I hastily pull my hair into a messy-looking ponytail before grabbing my phone, earbuds, and keys.

  The hallway of the apartment building is nearly silent, only the hum of the elevator slowly approaching my floor fills the space. Stepping in, I press B to head down to the basement. While it isn’t luxurious by any means, there is a fully functional gym and laundry in the basement of my building. At least it has everything I need – a readily available treadmill since I can’t seem to bring myself to go for an early morning outdoor run these days.

  Pushing open the door, I feel the wall for the switch to flip on the lights. They flicker for a second before illuminating the room. Grabbing the treadmill that faces the door, I slip my earbuds into my ears and scroll for a playlist.

  Happiness hit her like a train on a track, coming towards her stuck still no turning back…

  Florence and the Machine pours through my earbuds as I crank up the speed on the treadmill until I run in pace with the rhythm in my ears. Unlike my dream, where I am rooted in place, I run. I run h
ard and fast, putting as much distance between me and the darkness of my dreams as I can. My feet pound against the conveyor as I force myself to run at a punishing pace.

  By the time I hit the end of my fifth mile, sweat has drenched my hairline and visibly saturated my clothes. The run to refocus my mind worked. The machine beeps as I lower the speed; the only thing I can think about right now is the screaming of my legs. I breathe hard and heavy breaths as I walk a briskly pace to cool down. After another ten minutes, I climb off and grab my things.

  5:27 a.m.

  This is going to be a long fucking first day…

  three

  ANDRES

  “¡No me jodas!”

  These idiots in Mexico can’t seem to do anything without someone up their ass, holding their hand with each and every step.

  I don’t know how Alejandro did it all those years.

  I’ve been running shit solo while he took a month away with his family. It’s been two weeks and I feel like I’ve barely slept since they boarded the plane. I don’t want to let him down. He completely trusts me to run both sides of his empire while he is away.

  Our empire.

  Things changed after Isabella and the night in Mexico. Alex meant every word. He has given me half of everything he has, adamant that it is my blood right. We may not share the same parents, but we are brothers. Bound by the blood of countless men we’ve killed while reclaiming and rebuilding what others took from his father.

  A Mexican immigrant, who grew up in a boys’ home, to CEO of International Affairs for Marcano Enterprises. Second richest man in New York City.

  “Mr. Ramirez?” A light, feminine voice calls as knuckles gently rap on the glass of my office door. I know the voice — Jamie from HR. Without looking up from my desk, I lift my hand to inform her that I am otherwise occupied. Running a cartel from inside an import enterprise is a great cover, except when you need to deal with sensitive matters — like threatening to cut someone’s balls off if they don’t follow your directions.

  “¡No me importa! ¡Descúbrelo!” I shake my head while speaking the gruff words into the phone.

  Lifting my head to see what Jamie wants, my eyes are immediately glued to the woman standing behind her. She is ravishingly gorgeous, as always. My eyes graze over every inch of her, savoring the sensual curves of her hips and thighs. A tight black pencil skirt and well-fitted blouse only further accentuate how amply curvaceous she is.

  As focused as I am on her curves, I am repeatedly drawn back to her eyes. Those bright hazel eyes are unlike any I have ever seen. Bright amber flares from her pupils to the dark blue-hued ring around her iris. They are absolutely fucking mesmerizing.

  Her light brown hair is pulled into a clip at the back of her head. I imagine it is thick and luscious, cascading well past her shoulders. A few well-placed tendrils frame her face.

  But those eyes…

  I am so captivated with her that I barely comprehend the bumbling excuses continuing to pour through the phone. I am unsure what has transpired in the last few moments, and I truly don’t even care.

  “¡No más excusas!” The words leave my mouth in a slow, angry growl. I don’t try to mask my rage as I wave Jamie into the room, “Do not make me come back down there.”

  “Maybe we should come back another time,” Jamie shifts uncomfortably in the doorway as I roughly place the phone back onto the receiver.

  “No,” I bark. “Now is fine.”

  The two of them step into my office, and I watch as the hips of the woman behind Jamie sway with each step she takes toward me. My mouth is salivating at the thought of gripping my fingers into her ample thighs.

  My mouth isn’t the only thing excited by the thought. Like a fucking teenager, my hardened cock is tightly tenting the front of my dress pants, forcing me to stay seated as they both approach my desk.

  “Mr. Ramirez,” Jamie pauses to gesture at the woman beside her, “This is Alexys Noble. She is starting today as your new assistant.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Ramirez. And please call me Lex,” her voice is soft as she extends her hand to me. Unable to stand, I don’t lift my hand to take hers, and she awkwardly places it back by her side.

  “Hopefully, you stay longer than the last girl, Lex,” the words leaving my mouth are unintentionally gruff and off-putting.

  I actually do want her to stay.

  Her jaw tightens, and I watch as she swallows hard, my mind immediately drawn to the thought of her swallowing my cock. I feel my brows furrow as I try to push the thought from my mind.

  Fuck…

  “We have a few more things to take care of before I turn her over to you, but since we were up here, I thought we would stop by,” Jamie observes my tone and behavior as them being an unwanted interruption to my day.

  They both turn to leave my office and my eyes immediately fall back to the natural sway of Alexys’s hips.

  “Good luck, Miss Noble,” the words leave my mouth sounding more like a threat than words of encouragement.

  Fuck…what is wrong with me?

  four

  ALEXYS

  “Is he always like that?” I question Jamie as we continue along the tour of the floor I’ll now be working on.

  I’ve only been at Marcano Enterprises for a couple of months. The last thing I ever expected was to get referred for an executive administrative assistant position with one of the owners of the company. Standing outside his office, I couldn’t believe I was going to be working for the man sitting behind that desk.

  I’m not even that good of a secretary.

  More importantly, how I was going to focus on anything while working for him. He looks nothing like the nine-to-five businessmen I’ve worked for in the past.

  No suit jacket. No tie. The top few buttons of his shirt were left open, granting a slight glimpse at the ink swirling across his broad chest and the base of his neck. The rolled sleeves of his crisp, white dress shirt showcased his chiseled forearms, equally covered in art. His chiseled jaw is outlined by the perfect amount of scruff. Dark tousled hair fell over his face as he spoke on the phone, but when he looked up, I melted at the depth of his equally dark eyes.

  And then I met him…

  Suddenly, he was exactly like every nine-to-five asshole I’ve ever had the so-called privilege of working for.

  “Always like what, dear?” she questions.

  “That, um,” I try to choose my words wisely, “standoffish?”

  “Both Mr. Ramirez and Mr. Marcano are wonderful men to work for,” she smiles, “but as we discussed prior to you taking this position, the hours can be long and the position quite demanding.”

  “Of course. The last girl—” I hesitate, thinking back to the brief interaction in his office, “was the position too much for her?”

  “I’m sorry,” she stops walking to look at me, “but I cannot discuss reasons for departure for prior employees.”

  “Oh, no,” I shake my head, realizing I totally just crossed a line. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked, and I completely understand.”

  Shit…

  Feeling as though I just labeled myself as the nosey girl of the office, I tend to keep quiet for the remainder of the morning with Jamie. Just shy of lunch, she informs me she’s finished with my orientation. After instructing me to take an hour for my break and to report to Mr. Ramirez’s office when I’m done, she sends me on my way.