Page 139 of Lethal King

“Bingo,” I smile, finding exactly what I’m looking for.

With a press of a concealed button, four hidden clamps spring up from the chair legs and arm-rests, restraining Flavian in place.

“Oh, how naughty,” Flavian chuckles, hardly bothered by the strength and speed in which he’s been captured.

The fucker is in for a rude awakening.

“We heard through the grapevine you like to hold naughty parties,” Rian says, momentarily composing himself now that Flavian is tied down.

The sensual club owner raises a brow. His custom-tailored pants pitch an impressive tent. But before I can catch myself looking at his crotch, I feel the back of Rian’s hand under my collar.

He lifts my gaze.

“I do many things,” Flavian smiles. His spiky hair is already damp. Sweat drips down his golden skin. There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

I’ll wipe that out soon enough.

“We’re only interested in the things you do for Leander Onasis,” I speak up.

Lifting my foot, I step down on Flavian’s thigh, just below his erection. He shifts, pulsing with desire. But I keep my eyes trained on Rian.

The lion is seething with jealousy.

Still, he plays along.

“Leander Onasis,” Flavian says, lifting his gaze to the ceiling, as if he’s trying to figure out who that is...

Without warning, Rian slaps him across the face. Then, he digs his fingers into his jaw and forces him to look directly into his blue eyes.

“We heard you’re the one who sets up his lavish parties.”

“Oh, that Leander Onasis,” Flavian smirks, clearly so turned on he’s nearly lost all his senses. “That handsome devil gets whatever he wants.”

In response, Rian spits in Flavian’s face.

Feeling left out, I do the same.

“And what do we get?” Rian asks.

Inching my foot closer to Flavian’s cock, I watch as he considers how much to reveal.

“I can set you up with him, if you’d like,” Flavian tells Rian, before turning his attention to me. “I’m afraid he might only be interested in you, though, darling. Believe me, I’ve tried to sway him. He’s like a rock.”

“More like a pillow,” I blurt out. “Extra soft.”

That momentarily drags Flavian back down to earth.

“You’ve met the man before?” he asks, curious.

“He asked her to marry him,” Rian says, a red-hot rage seething just beneath his surface.

“Lucky girl,” Flavian chuckles.

“No,” Rian says. Reaching down, he grabs Flavian’s erection and twists. The club owner shakes with delight. “Lucky guy.”

“Are you talking about me or Leander?” Flavian plays. His voice shivers with anticipation.

“Neither,” Rian sneers. Looking at me, he pauses for a second before continuing. “I’m talking about me.”