The mansion was dead silent. Clara lay in her massive king-sized bed, staring at the ceiling, completely unable to sleep. She was twenty-three, the sole heir to a massive fortune, and she lived alone in a ten-bedroom house that felt more like a prison than a home. Her father was overseas on business, and the staff had the weekend off. She was completely isolated, and honestly, she was bored out of her mind. Her p***y had been throbbing for hours, a dull, persistent ache between her legs that she couldn't seem to satisfy no matter how many times she touched herself.
She had arranged this entire night.
Three weeks ago, Clara had walked into a discrete club downtown and met a man named Marcus. He was massive, standing well over six foot four, with broad shoulders, thick arms covered in dark
