SEDUCTIVE IMPERSONATION (TRAPPED IN THE BILLIONAIRE'S POSSESSIVE LOVE)

Just the moment she turned to walk out the same way she walked in, she felt a masculine hand placed over her shoulder, and before she could react, the hand left her shoulder to her tousled hair, spinning and pulling her into his possessive arms.

Her head rested on his chest; she smelt the intoxicating scent of his bare, damp chest.

His torso was warm and lightly furred, droplets of water trailing from his dark, dipping hair down his chiseled body. Her mind however unwilling, already dwelt in some naughty thoughts, admiring the man who only had a towel wrapped around his waist.

He stood tall- six feet of raw masculinity, bronzed skin, dark hair, hazel eyes, and a presence that screamed dominance.

She started to come to herself when the hands that circled her tiny waist wandered sensually, claiming her firm round butt.

"Who......" "Shhhhh", he placed a finger against her lips, hushing her from saying anything. His finger caressed and traced the outline of her lips, causing her to fix her gaze on its playful movement.

Holding her jaw, he tilted her face up such that their lips came in contact without struggle.

First, it was a slight unreciprocated kiss, a tentative kiss that sparked like dry leaves catching flame till the heat of passion was ignited in them, and it became intense. A kind of kiss that left her gasping, wanting, aching.

Yet he wasn't satisfied, he wanted more, more and more of her.

He darted his hands onto her scalp, pulled off, and with his deep, inaudible voice, his face brushing against hers, he mumbled, "Your tongue".

She hesitated..... then obeyed; slowly, she bit her lower lip before parting her lips wide, offering it to him.

"Hmm," aroused by her submission, he let out an unconscious chuckle as he watched her agape mouth. "Trust me, I will teach you," he said to her, his mouth almost inside hers as she welcomed the wildest French kiss that left her wet and trembling.

"Wait...." she struggled and pushed him away the moment he slipped his hands in between her thighs, moving to and fro in her short skirt without barrier, heating her up.

"Who are you?" she shamefully remembered to ask after the wild passionate kiss. Her legs weak, her mind swirling.

He didn't respond; he moved closer again, grabbed her waist, and pulled her to himself such that their bodies almost bounded. He robbed his prominent nose on hers as his breath fanned her cheeks.

Her voice unsteady, "This is the fourth time we are doing this, yet I don't know who exactly you are", again, she declined his approach by turning her face away from him, avoiding his unending kisses.

"Forget it if you can't remember", he replied, his hands stroking her soft permed hair.

"No, I can't, not this fourth time. What do you want?" she asked, trying very hard not to get drawn into his charm.

"What do I want? Isn't it obvious? I want you...... he paused, took a few steps, enclosing the space between them, which made her advance backward concurrently till she got to the wall and could run no further.

He grabbed her left leg, raised and held it around his waist while his other hand pinned her hands up on the wall. "I want you, every inch, every taste of you", he growled, voice low and husky against her ears.

"Why, why me?" she mustered the courage to look into his colorful, tempting eyes for the first time.

"You did, you seduced me first", he responded, this time, his tongue flicking along her innocent ear, making her arch into him with a cry of reluctant pleasure.

"Ouch...", breath caught in her throat, her heart betraying her, she cried in pleasure. "Please stop, you must be mistaken, I'm not the lady you want", she tried to resist his further attempt the third time.

"Remember me now? He asked with a charming smile littered on his face.

She avoided his eyes and gently nodded her head affirmatively. "Though we look alike, I'm not her; she is my best friend. Sorry you weren't able to recognize her." she cleared and tried to leave, but his grip was firm.

He didn't budge, he pinned her more tightly to the wall, brushing his lips lightly against hers, speaking her name like a spell.

"Ayla...... I want you.... not your friend", he called her name to her astonishment.

"No, you are meant for my friend, she had a crush on you since high school, you must be mistaken", she insisted while gathering her breaths together.

He smiled, and again, his hands began to wander inside her; she melted the instance as she watched him grease his two fingers with saliva; slowly and gently, he moved them erotically from her thighs closer to her nub.

Her breath caught as her hips arched into his touch. She rested her head on his chest, anticipating the pleasurable landing of those fingers in their presumed destination.

Cruelly, he decided to tease her a little, he brought those fingers closer to her mouth.

"Lick", he commanded.

She obeyed, wrapping her lips around his fingers. And when those slick fingers returned to her, she gasped- moaning, trembling, and melting into him.

"Oh my!" she tucked her hand into his scalp, her face tilted above and sexually, she moaned immediately those fingers landed on her helpless wet nub.

She whimpered, her voice breaking as pleasure overwhelmed her, "Oh please stop already", she pleaded without making efforts to restrain his uncontrollable fingers.

"But you are enjoying it, aren't you?" he asked Ayla who shut her eyes, enjoying the pleasurable expertise work of his fingers together with his tongue trailing over her neck. "Why did you do that?"

"Wh...ouch...what?"

"Why did you seduce me?" he asked, still tickling her nub.

"No, I didn't", she denied even as her body screamed the opposite. He let go of her, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"Why?" he asked again, low and intense.

This time she couldn't deny it, she had to own up and surrender to him.

"I... I only wanted to help my friend. You have given her enough cold shoulders, so I thought maybe I could seduce you for her", she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Hahaha", he laughed hysterically, playfully, and tenderly, unfastening her buttons one by one until he cupped her warm succulent breast. "Why sacrifice so much for someone who doesn't care about you?"

"No don't slander my friend before me", she defended.

He leaned closely, lips brushing her ear. "You seduced me for your friend... right? Haha, it might interest you to know, young lady, that your little tricks backfired; the Hunter has become the game. And now.... I want you", he whispered authoritatively into her ears.

"No, you can't----. "

"Then watch how I burn the whole city down just to prove I can", he asserted his powers with confidence, his voice firm, eyes burning with desire.

He gently trailed and fondled her nipple with tantalizing precision, teasing it until it stood firm, hard, and arching for more. He pinched it lightly and rolled it between his fingers, and the moan that escaped her throat wasn't soft- it was desperate.

She died many times at his touch; he had already induced and got her wet. Every stroke of his hand sent waves of bliss crashing through her, her body betraying every bit of resistance her mind could muster.

Nevertheless, she swore never to succumb to him, she can't yield to him, not this fourth time. She whimpered and pushed him off her, "We can't do this." not being so sure of herself, her voice betraying her, she said, buttoned her shirt up, and ran towards the door, not out of strength but out of fear.

Behind her, he calmly chuckled, retrieved a cigarette from the Ottoman, sat on it to light the cigarette.

Unperturbed, he didn't chase, he needed not to. He watched with a predator's calm, his confidence was sure.

Ayla turned the doorknob to get herself out of the room, her fingers trembling, but she was restrained by pleasure, tight, merciless. He had already induced and taken her to the pinnacle of sexual ecstasy.

With a gasp, she turned and leaned on the door, her mind swirling, her heart pounding so fast, her thighs clenched, her desire to have him inside her blazed.

"I told you, you can never run away from me", he mocked, satisfied with his sophisticating charm. "You are mine---every inch".

He crushed the lit cigarette into the ashtray, waiting for her to fall into his arms.

Slowly and erotically, she ran her tongue at the outline of her upper lip. Teasing herself as much as him. Rushing towards him, her hand battled with her buttons as she could not withstand the intimacy for a second more.

"Come here baby", he chuckled, stripping off her shirt together with the brazier. "Damn!" he exclaimed, admiring her succulent bouncy tits.

Ayla wrapped his neck with her arms, pulling him closer to her bosom, yearning for his cruel touch.

"I bet you have the most beautiful boobs ever", he mumbled into her ears, buried his face between them, kissing, biting, sucking till she moaned.

"Ouch," she cried and thrust herself around him the moment his lips grabbed and stuffed her nipple into his mouth, his tongue affectionately dancing around it, swirling, teeth grazing.

One hand staking claim on her butt, the other sliding down her thigh, her hips jerking towards him.

As they went on, she felt the warmth of his aroused c*ck, thick, hard, twitching against her leg. Her palms wandered all over him, his hair, his back, his chest, till it got to his waist.

Touching the towel knotted at his waist, they paused, looking into his eyes, her voice betraying her, she muttered, "May.....I?".

"I'm all yours, baby," he murmured a devilish promise, with luring smiles.

She slid her soft hands beneath the towel wrapped around his waist, grabbing him, she smiled and slicked his ear. "You are so fucking big".

He groaned, low and animalistic, "Go ahead and do me dirty".

Ayla slowly slipped her tender chin from his chest, abdomen, and down to his waist. Her knees on the tiles, not in submission, but obsession. She pulled the towel free, his c*ck sprang free, -long, veiled and glistening at the tip.

Tongue flickering, lips parting wide, she stuffed him into her mouth, suckling and robbing it with passion, with reverence, with need.

"F*ck Ayla......!" he moaned, his face lifted towards the chandelier, her hair tangled in his fingers. She bobbed her head, satisfied with his deep groans, she sucked harder, her saliva coating him. Her tongue swirled, and her moans vibrated against his shaft.

He threw his right hand to the air till it got to the Ottoman, it staggered before finally landing on what he was searching for,- a condom.

Ayla held his wrists, halting him from tearing its sachet open. Rising, she pressed her mouth on his ear and mumbled, "Squirt.......inside me".

"Good girl", he growled, without hesitation, as if those words ignited more heat in him, he swept the nightstand clean, unperturbed about the shattered lamp. Effortlessly, he lifted and slammed her onto it, her legs parting as her skirt rode up around her waist. He shoved his two fingers between her folds, robbing, lubricating, spreading her slickness over her entrance.

She moaned, head thrown back, hips bucking against his hand.

He lined himself up, rubbed his thick head against her entrance, about to slide in, then......

Knock, knock, knock!!!

When the knock came the third time, she was jolted back to reality; she jerked upright, her eyes fixed confusingly on the door.

"Ayla, the Dogans called for you," Nisa, the housemaid announced from the other side of the door.

She swallowed hard, her body trembling, "O-okay, I'm.... taking a shower. I will be there soon", she lied.

She dragged herself closer to the mirror, saw the red flush on her face, her mind piled up numerous questions. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I stop this? This is the fourth time, each time darker than the last, and it seems uncontrollable, she questioned her reflection in the mirror.

It was another wet trance in the same month. She never used to fantasize like this, never allowed herself such vulnerability.

Each time she tries to meditate and get her thoughts together, this unknown domineering shadow will sneak into her imagination, seducing her, owning, and giving her the wildest intimacy of her life.

This fourth time was weird; she battled with wild confusion as her shirt was unbuttoned and her panties soaked. Could she have done that unconsciously? Her guilty reflection went mute. Funny enough, the imaginary guy becomes faceless as fast as she gets up.

She pressed her palms against the glass, stared sternly at her strange self till the shame made her sob.

Snapping out of it, she grabbed a towel, rushed into the bathroom to wash off the mess on her.

Within few minutes, she was done with the quick shower, she came out in her robe, dried her hair just enough with a towel, swiftly slipped into her gown before rushing out to answer the Dogans.

Her mind swirling with suspicion, not fathoming what the Demigods would ask of her.

Ayla stood before the Dogans, her eyes filled with suspicion and, of course, innocence.

She wondered what the issue could be, she wasn't really terrified about them, but- perhaps from the erotic trance she found herself caught in.

Mrs. Dogans leaned her head on her husband's shoulder while her hands circled his right arm; that sitting position, of course, indicates that they were up to a big deal.

Having stood silently for more than a minute, shifting her gaze from Mrs Dogans to her husband, then from her husband back to her. Mr Dogans kept sorting through his papers, his spectacles resting firmly on his face.

That had been his routine each time he had something paramount to tackle.

Ayla was certain they were the ones that sent for her, yet the reason they kept her waiting for so long was what she couldn't grab.

"Ma you called for me", she finally said, breaking the ghostly silence engulfing the sitting room. She had hesitated earlier, unsure whether to address them by 'mom' or 'dad' as she usually did, but ultimately she decided to flow with the more formal 'ma'.

"Yeah we did", Mrs Dogans said, slowly lifting her head from her husband's shoulder. Majestically, she sipped a glass of water on the table before raising her gaze to meet Ayla's.

Mr Dogans offered her a seat, "You may sit", said Mr Dogans, removing his spectacles, placing it alongside his papers.

"I want you to cancel your travel plans", he paused, positioning himself to look directly at her. "Defne will be fine, but that's gonna take a few months, maybe two or three or even more; who knows?"

Ayla only bobbed her head without uttering a word, though she already had lots of questions filed up in her mind. Why would he stop her from visiting Defne? Yes, Defne was their only child and Ayla's best friend, but to her, Define was more than that- she was like a sister.

"You know her conditions currently, don't you?", Mr Dogans asked, peering into her eyes, deepening her confusion.

"Yeah, I do. That is why I'm preparing to go visit her", she replied smartly, trying to get him to understand she wasn't planning a vacation, but rather to go stay with their daughter till she recovers.

"No you aren't going nowhere", he replied bluntly, slipping his spectacles back to his face.

"Why?" she asked, obviously confused.

"Because her wedding is in a few weeks", Mrs Dogans interrupted.

Though Ayla couldn't grasp what they were leading up to, she kept silent to allow them finish up with what they wanted to say.

"Ayla listen, you have to wed Deniz, not as Ayla but as Defne our daughter", Mrs Dogans finally voiced out, uncovering the reason behind the awkward summon.

"I'm sorry, but it seems I'm lost", she replied, trying to ascertain her doubt.

"You know Defne is supposed to get married soon, but unfortunately she is in the psychiatric hospital as we speak", he paused, slipped his glasses into it's box, cleared his throat before he continued.

"Defne has been a very good friend to you, and the least you could do for her in this turbulent situation is to wed Deniz in her place- to secure her family plans and preserve her reputation."

"Yes, Ayla, he is right; your friend needs you right now to help her out this once", added Mrs Jenkins, her voice softer, her head slightly tilting down, a gesture that she was pleading with her to agree with them.

"Wait, you want me to marry Deniz for Defne? How? I mean do they know about this? Ayla asked, more out of disbelief than expectation.

'Why bother ourselves telling you to marry in place of her if they really knew? Of course, they don't, and God forbid they found out", Mrs. Jenkins cut off sharply.

"For real?" her mouth still parted out of shock.

"Ayla, this is the least you could do for your best friend at this critical moment, remember she never fails to extend her arms to you whenever you need help", Mrs Dogans pleaded, her eyes locked in Ayla's as she held her arms (Ayla's) closer to her chest.

"But how......?" she murmured, surfacing her worrisome feelings.

"It's very simple, my dear, you look so much like your friend, you know, just a little touch-up and complete adherence, believe me, everything will work out just fine", Mr Dogans assured with confidence, almost regal smile.

"Touch?" she echoed, that phrase seemed totally new to her, it was so because she couldn't grab a hint of what he meant.

Mrs Dogans adjusted a bit, sitting closely to Ayla, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, and gently stroking her hair, she said, "Don't worry sweetheart, we've got everything under control.

It became clear their efforts were to manipulate Ayla into succumbing to their outrageous scheme, but her mind strictly resisted them.

"Just step into her shoes for a few months, and when she is back, --boom-- you are out of the game", she snapped her fingers followed by a supportive nod from the husband.

"Ma this is crazy, why do you think we can ever play such tricks in this twenty-first century, The Yilmaz aren't fools, they are powerful, they will crush me if I get discovered", Ayla complained in fear, her body trembling with dread. She wished she had never woken up to such a request - or rather, command.

The Dogans usually have their way with everything, and she wasn't sure if she could get out of this this time.

"Shhhhh...stay calm and watch the drama unfold", they hushed her, not bothering to consider her feelings.

Ayla watched them, her eyes brimming with tears, as they laughed hysterically about nothing.