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That’s maybe the most terrifying realization of all.
13
Ky is circling like a shark. He’s scented willing flesh, and now he’s biding his time until he can move in for the kill.
No matter how many times I’ve warned him to stay the fuck away from the girl.
His cock is doing all the thinking, even if he denies it.
Which he doesn’t.
There’s too much going on for me to keep tabs on him and his bullshit all the time. But the fact he had her in the gym first thing this morning rubbing his dick all over her like he’s marking his territory is a headache I don’t need.
I’d tell him to go beg for a fuck from Ven and get whatever this is out of his system, but the surly asshole has disappeared. Most likely taken off into the depths of the forest, which can only mean that he’s still purging last night’s rage from his system.
His beasts always need their space to find their calm after he loses his shit like that. From the state of his knuckles and the fact Massimo Ilone most likely wound up in intensive care, if he even made it through the night, it’s safe to assume he won’t be back for days.
There’s a place Ven goes to deep in the heart of this forest, and he’s the only one who will know when it is time to re-emerge.
“…The Gathered are requesting increased security at this year’s auction. After what happened to poor Andreas, they won’t attend without assurances of their safety, Calliano.”
The nasal voice on the other end of the line belongs to one of my contacts within the organization whom I’m forced to deal with in my line of work. This woman acts as a go-between for many of the security team members and the individuals of the Anguis whom they’ve been tasked with protecting. I guess she’s a glorified secretary, but she acts like the world owes her a favor, and more than once, I’ve had to bite my tongue when dealing with her bullshit attitude.
Little does she know just how ill-advised it is to get on my wrong side.
“Of course. Consider it done.” I mutter, pushing around some papers on my desk. There are a million things I’d rather be doing right now than listening to this woman, but it is all part of the show. The one I put on every day to stay hidden while our plan is gradually enacted. Piece by fucking piece.
“There will have to be amendments to the usual order of events.” She goes into lengthy detail about shit I already know and have already taken care of with my brother. But if it makes her feel important, then I’ll allow her to run that sour mouth all fucking day in order to maintain my cover.
I round the front of my desk to lean against the wood and pinch the bridge of my nose. The woman isn’t even pausing for breath as she goes on and on about details that I’m already fully aware of.
As I listen, my eyes wander to the large floor-to-ceiling window that fills one entire wall of my office and overlooks the central courtyard area. The space is closed in with a glass roof so that the area is not only secure, but keeps the place at a nearly tropical temperature. Even if the fickle winds of the coast bring endless days of fog and mist billowing through the trees surrounding us.
Life out here on the peninsula is isolated, which suits us for what we need, but the elements are harsh. I fucking hate the cold, so this is about as close as I’ll get to a compromise while I still have to stay in this hell hole known as Port Macabre.
“…Each VIP will need a vehicle escort in addition to their regular security detail…”
Christ. The woman is like a bulldog decimating a bone.
Movement outside catches my eye. Cerulean water ripples across the surface of the pool, and that’s when I see her. She swims into view, with her lilac curls forming a tangle on top of her head, casually gliding through the water.
I’m responding in one-word answers and confirming details, but only half of my mind is on the conversation at hand. Instead, I watch her gently swim up and down.
My mind is even further away from the phone pressed to my ear when she reaches the steps at the far end and starts to make her way out of the pool. Glistening droplets of water roll off her curves, and I go still. As if somehow she’ll be able to sense my presence from where I’m hidden behind this fortress of glass and the wall of potted palms.
Whoever chose that fucking bikini to add to the selection of clothes we had delivered needs to be shot. At least she’s locked in here and not somewhere that would have every asshole in the city trying to hump her leg. It’s a pale blue color that matches her big eyes, and god-fucking-dammit it barely covers anything. The wet, thin material clings to every inch of her body.
As she turns around at the top of the steps I most definitely should be looking away. This girl is too fucking young for me to be staring with any sort of interest. I have no business watching the softness of her thighs and stomach and breasts. But there’s no mistaking her hard nipples poking through the two triangles of fabric clinging to her rounded tits. And when my eyes drag down her soft stomach, over the inked design of a snake winding up her sternum, I see the high-waisted cut of her briefs has suctioned to her pussy lips. Every single fucking detail between her thighs is outlined.
Jesus.
I scrub my hand over my mouth. This is the point that I should move. The moment I go and sit behind my desk and attend to the reports waiting for me on my laptop. Not stand here with a hardening cock and a view of every inch of this girl parading past as she heads for her towel.
But I’m stuck here, still watching, and she’s fucking bending over.
Her soft ass cheeks are rounded. The perfect curve to lay a handprint across that I bet would redden nicely against her fair skin. Just to add to this cock-tease of a show the girl is putting on, she reaches behind and rearranges the high cut that has bunched between her ass cheeks. As she tugs on one side, I catch the faintest glimpse of her pussy from behind. Soft and pink, and asking to be filled up from this angle.
Suddenly, I’m imagining sinking my cock into her tight, wet cunt while she’s folded over that pool lounger. The worst part of me now craves to hear the way she’d moan my name as I wrap her purple hair around my fist and pound into her.
