: Chapter 11
Most women would run for the hills or, at the very least, flinch at my provocation. Not this woman, though. She’s currently sulking in my private booth, stabbing at her drink with a straw as if it’s personally offended her.
I plucked out the two slivers of glass embedded in her palm and thoroughly bandaged it. Other than a few shallow cuts, her hand was fine. She’d even had the effrontery to say “it was nothing” under her breath more than once.
But it was everything. No one has permission to make this woman bleed but me.
She throws her hand up, exasperated. “Can you stop looking at me like a creeper and tell me why the fuck I’m here?”
“Are you going to share with me who your client is yet?”
She throws herself back into the leather seat, arms folded over her chest. She hasn’t had one sip of the drink one of my men brought her. She crosses her legs, and a tic jumps in my jaw as I see a flash of red panties.
Jesus Christ, I’m falling from grace if the mere glimpse of underwear can get me off these days. I adjust my crotch.
“Sit here,” I tell her, not liking the way a few of the club members have a clear view of us. I could tell them to leave so we have this space to ourselves, but I’m not accommodating her, and besides, Lord knows what I’ll fucking do to her if left alone. I’m still not sure if I want to kill or fuck her. Both, I think.
“No,” she replies, looking over her shoulder at the others.
“Look at me,” I growl as I take a puff of my cigar and spread my legs wide. Her gaze doesn’t miss the adjustment, and I quite like that. Whether she wants to admit it or not, she’s just as drawn to me as I am to her.
Hawke’s booming laugh echoes over the space as he entertains two blondes, one on each knee. Dutton is here somewhere, and it’s not often Ford doesn’t follow his twin, but he’s nowhere to be seen tonight.
She looks at her phone as if to check the time. Frustrated by her ignoring me, I stand, looming over her, and circle around the booth. I sit on the wooden table and put my glass of whiskey and cigar down beside me. I push my legs between hers and splay them out, giving me a perfect view of those red lace panties.
To her credit, she doesn’t flinch, and her gaze is unmoving. “I’m not going to kill you tonight,” I tell her.
“That’s nice to hear. Can’t promise you the same thing,” she replies bitterly. My smile is slow and sensual.
“I want you to sit on my cock like a good girl.”
This time, Jewel’s lips curve into a sultry smile, and I’ve known from the moment she walked in with that short little skirt that she was playing a dangerous game with me. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?” I ask. I can see by the fire in her gaze and the way her body responds to me when I force myself into the space that she is in.
“And then, can I kill you afterward?” Her tone is overly sweet.
I lean forward with a smile, slowly gliding my rough thumb along her collarbone and up to her jaw. I expect more fight from her, but that calculating gaze is letting me close, most likely because she’s ready to stab me again, but I won’t fall for the same trick twice. I curl my fingers through her hair. The point of her being here was so if any insider is behind this hitwoman’s paycheck, they’ll know I own her now.
But having fun with her in the meantime might release some of this tension that’s been bundled in my balls since first meeting her.
Her fingers twitch, and I can tell she’s contemplating if she should use whatever sneaky little weapon she most likely has on her. “I demand a taste.”
“And what makes you think I’ll give it to you willingly?” she snaps, breathing heavily as I inch my face closer.
My cock throbs at her venomous tone.
I lean in and brush my lips against her jawline. My fist tightens in her hair as my nostrils flare at her light, flowery scent with something deeper and richer beneath, much like her temperament. It’s like the mask of temptation before the true she-devil shows herself. “I think it’s the unwillingness part that makes you want it even more.”
Her body naturally leans into me, and I smirk, satisfied by the reminder that as much as she fights it, she fucking wants me. And if she thought walking in wearing an outfit like this was going to be my undoing, she was correct.
I stand up, adjusting my semi-hard cock at her eye level. I stare down at her come-fuck-me eyes and slightly parted red lips. Rubbing my thumb along her plump bottom lip, I’m mesmerized. Her breath hitches, and I can tell she’s crippled by the tension just as much as I am.
That’s when I notice her hand slowly creeping toward her boot. It happens so quickly. As she reaches for what I’m assuming is a hidden knife, I grab her hand. I twist her body and pull her down with me so she’s on my lap, her back against my chest. She lands on my cock so firmly I’m certain I almost puncture a hole through my pants and her skirt. She lets out a low oomph.
I have her arm pinned to her side with one hand, and my other is wrapped around her throat. I breathe in the scent of her shampoo, intoxicated by the scent. Or maybe it’s the thrill of this woman yet again trying to stab me. Her throat bobs beneath my firm grip.
“It’d be easy for me to break this slender neck of yours,” I warn, holding back a growl as her ass wriggles against my cock. There’s no fucking way she doesn’t know what she’s doing.
I run my nose along her shoulder. Despite having her pinned, there are many ways she could try to fight her way out of this. And although we’re in a room full of people, I’m appreciative of the fact I have my back to them—something I never do—just so none of them can see her flushed, aroused state.
I look at the glossy black wall in front of us. It gives off a bit of a reflection, showing me her expression, but not clearly enough for others on the other side of the room behind us to see.
I can see her peering at me through the shiny wall reflection, barely.
My little toy.
My fucking temptation.
Potentially my undoing.
My cock pushes angrily against my pants. “I’m starting to think you really do want me to kill you with how hard you are,” she breathes, trying to keep face.
“I can be a generous man,” I reply. “As long as you sit like a good girl.”
I loosen my grip around her throat, waiting for her to move, almost begging for it. I enjoy pinning this woman down. I find it almost cute the way she tries to kill me. When my hand hovers over her collarbone and she still hasn’t done anything, I let my fingers feather along the tops of her breasts. She takes in a sharp breath, and I can feel the arousal radiate off her as if I’m already buried deep inside of her.
I cup her breast, testing, waiting for her to try and smash my nose with the back of her head. But it only adds to the thrill. How far will she let me go? How much does she want it?
I squeeze her tit and twist. She hisses, but her body arches further into me, that demanding little ass still wriggling against my cock.
Fucking hell.
“These perfect tits,” I whisper into her ear, waiting for her quick tongue to lash me with a reply. But when she remains silent, a male pride fills me. I’m still watching her in the vague reflection from the glass wall. I gently release her wrist and skim my fingers down her skirt. When I drift them back up, she lifts off me just enough so I can pull the skirt up higher.
The moment my fingers touch the lace of her panties, I realize with satisfaction that she’s already fucking soaking.
Fucking beautiful.
“You want this, don’t you?” I purr into her ear.
When she doesn’t respond, I twist her other tit, and she snarls under the savage contact.
“You’re already soaking wet for me.”
“There was a handsome guy down—”
I move my hand from her breast and wrap it around her throat again, cutting off her airflow. I begin to circle her tight bud through her panties. “I suggest you never mention another man to me again. As of now, you are my property until I decide to discard you. Do you understand?”
She can’t speak, but she can nod. She doesn’t attempt to do either. But she also doesn’t try to free herself from my hold.
I slip my finger under the edge of her panties, dipping into the warm flesh that welcomes me. She moans and sinks back against my chest, and I can see the redness flush down the back of her neck from her lack of air supply.
“Do you like that, Kitten?” I ask, pumping my finger into her.
She moans, and I’m dying to replace my cock with the two fingers now working her slick pussy.
“Tell me you want it,” I coax as I loosen my grip.
After catching her breath, she admits, “It appears you might be useful for something after all.” Then she moans, and I smile as I slip a third finger into her, slamming into her pussy. She’s wriggling against my palm, thirsty for more. Thirsty for my cock.
Fuck, she feels even better than I could’ve imagined, and I’m pumping into her with my fingers, almost in disbelief at how wet she is for me.
“Sir!”
My cute little killer freezes at the sound of my new bodyguard coming to a stop behind us.
“Fuck off!” I grit out, but it’s too late. Jewel has already broken free of my grip, shimmying her skirt down as she steps out of my reach.
I glare at the new guard, whose eyes widen when he realizes he’s just triggered his untimely death.
“Anyway, that’s been an hour, asshole. Thanks for patching up my hand.” She makes a break for the staircase.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I growl, adjusting my rock-hard cock, as she looks over her shoulder with an antagonizing smile. I would usually break kneecaps if someone gave me that much sass.
She has the tenacity to wink at me before she flees down the stairs.
“Is everything okay?” Dutton asks as he climbs the last two steps.
I run a hand over my jaw, my cock painfully straining, as I wave the security guy over. He’s hesitant to obey.
“I’m sorry, sir. I thought you’d want to know that some young guys broke out into a fight and started stabbing one another out in the alley, and—”
When he’s close enough, I grab the gun in his pants and shoot him dead center in the forehead. A scream sounds from behind him, and one of the blondes crawling all over Hawke is startled to sobriety. He jumps up, attentive and ready for action.
“Clean this shit up,” I bark, throwing the gun near the man bleeding all over my floor. Hawke glances between Dutton and me as if looking to be clued into what happened. Without further instruction, he starts yelling orders to other guards.
The partying around us continues, but I’m so fucking frustrated I think my cock is about to split in two.
Fuck.
She slipped straight through my fingers. I bring said fingers to my lips, licking them and enjoying the flavor. I can’t wait to taste her again.
Dutton stares at me as he inquires, “Did you learn anything about her?”
The only fucking thing I learned is she’s fast. And that she just so happens to wear my favorite color.
Red.
I grab my cigar from the table and light it as I contemplate my next move. I didn’t expect her to let me touch her… or for her to affect me the way she has.noveldrama
Mark my words: before I kill her, I will fuck her just to get her out of my system.
“Not yet. But I will.”
“And, Dutton, a word of warning. Don’t ever touch her again.” I think of the moment he placed his hand on her lower back when they entered the club. I’ve never wanted to kill my cousin as much as right then in that moment. I’ve never been in the habit of sharing my toys.
I’ll unravel that sweet little cunt of hers like it’s my personal present from the devil himself.
Suddenly, Hawke’s idea of marrying her for convenience doesn’t sound too bad.
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