Page 35 of Sinful Lord

8

Tytus

How fucking delicious.

The video playing on my phone is one I’ve already watched a thousand times since it was recorded last night, but I can’t get enough of it.

In fact, I’m already starving for more.

If it weren’t for this meeting, I could sit here watching Melina masturbating until the end of time—or, at least, until I couldn’t take just watching anymore.

Soon, that will be your hand between her legs.

Biting my lower lip, I put my phone away and take a deep breath. Really, I should be preparing for what’s about to go down. But even without the recording, I can still picture what I saw.

Because it wasn’t just the hidden cameras that caught Melina’s naughty behavior. I was sitting on the rooftop across from her building, hard as a rock, observing her through the tiniest slit in her closed drapes.

It was like she left that opening there on purpose. Like she sat at her new laptop and responded to my emails in just the right spot to give her peeping tom a full view of everything.

And I saw everything.

Well, everything until she dove beneath her covers. Not even my cameras could see through those bedsheets. But they did pick up something she whispered while she was touching herself.

Tytus…

No matter how many times I’ve replayed that moment, no matter how hard I’ve tried to enhance the audio, I haven’t been able to get a clear take. Her voice is too airy, the sheets are rustling too loudly. Still, in my heart, I know what she said. It echoes loud and clear in my mind.

She said my name. And she said it while she was masturbating to the thought of me.

A big fucking smirk come over my face.

When the time comes, I’ll have to remember to confirm my hunch with the naughty runaway.

“What are you smiling about?” Yasha’s cold voice shatters through my warm fantasy.

Fuck.

“Just excited to see you,” I grumble, quickly wiping the smirk from my face.

But even as Yasha approaches and the hotel lobby turns a shade more frigid, an irresistible warmth remains deep inside of me. As does a wicked sense of mischief.

I hope Melina is enjoying the package I sent her. It’s a 1:1 scale replica of the real thing. If all goes according to plan, it will help prepare her for our first encounter. Because when the time comes, I don’t think I’m going to be able to hold myself back.

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Yasha rolls her eyes. “This is Manfred. Manfred Schulz. He’s my partner… uh, business partner that is.”

To my surprise, a tall, lanky man with a bad comb-over and a junky smile steps out from behind her. Shit, I didn’t even notice him—that’s how forgettable he looks, even in an immaculately tailored suit.

“We’re slowly becoming more than partners,” Manfred replies, seductively brushing past Yasha’s shoulder as he reaches out to offer me his hand.

Instead of returning the greeting, I give Yasha a death glare. This meeting was just supposed to be between the two of us. But then I see her blatantly lean into Otto’s arm, and I can’t help but smile.

She’s trying to make me jealous. Foolish girl. Even if Melina didn’t exist, this embarrassing display wouldn’t work. In fact, I’m going to make sure it blows up in her face.

Allowing the smile to return to my face, I shake Otto’s hand. It’s thin and bony and cold.

“You’ve come a long way,” I say, glancing a teasing look at Yasha. “From roughhousing with lowlifes like me to becoming, uh, “partners” with someone as refined as Manfred Shulz here.”

Yasha immediately looks horrified.