The drink in my hand sloshes, reminding me of the work I need to do.
But Landon’s whining softly, tugging on the hold I have on his hair, and letting his eyes roll back.
Oh, fuck. Oh, shit.
“You’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you, little Lanny?” I purr, leaning in closer.
His eyes snap open, spiteful and rebellious. “Does it drive you crazy that you’ll never get to know? To truly find out?”
He’s still grinding into me softly, undoubtedly feeling how much this is riling me up.
Wait, what did he just say?
Landon leans in, pressing his lips to my ear as he says, “Do you know how many men in here I’ve had on their knees? How many have fucked me so hard I couldn’t breathe?”
A low growl escapes me, feral and resentful. “And how many of them did you force? How many did you command to do it?”
Landon pulls away abruptly, my hand finally leaving his soft hair. The look of shock, of disbelief, on his face is surprising. But I guess I’d be surprised too if someone randomly called out my deepest, dirtiest secret.
“Why would you…” But his words trail off as he sways on his feet, his eyes peering around us.
I bet he’s looking for his friend, but I haven’t seen her once since I walked in. No one will be saving Landon Presley from my wrath.
“Here. You look thirsty.” The thought of how many men he’s touched or been touched by—and byforce—reminds me of what I’m here to do.
I’m not meant to be attracted to him, to want to dominate and break his spirit, all for the sexual thrill. He’s a repulsive man and a degenerate. And it’s time I fixed that.
Only as Landon reaches for the cup, he slaps it from my hand instead of taking it gratefully.
It splatters all over the floor, the plastic cup bouncing a few feet away. Some of the people around us look at the mess and shrug, continuing with their partying, but Landon is grinning.
His bratty, confident grin is aimed right at me as he sways slightly, giving me a wink.
“Oops,” he says, laughter coating the word.
The expensive B109 is coating my combat boots as I glare right at him.
Yeah, he’s done for. Such a fucking brat. I guess it’s a good thing that that’s what I do best—taming men like him.
And unfortunately for him, it won’t be the sexy kind of taming. But the kind that hurts.
Landon
5
UNLESS I’M TOO DRUNKto think straight—and that very well could be—I swear I can see the heat swirling in Nathaniel’s eyes. As if the very nature of my defiant personality is turning him on, making him ravenous.
But also angry. So fucking angry as he stares down at me, teeth basically bared as he sneers.
In his tight shirt and black felt cowboy hat, he looks like a Southern belle’s wet dream. Or mine, depending on how much liquor is coursing through me. Because even as I know this man is terrible, a stalker, and a self-centered ass, I kind of want to lick him.
To be fair, he interrupted my potential hook-up, and I’ve been hard long before he told—Garry, I think?—to fuck off.
Suddenly, large hands are gripping my hips, Nathaniel’s hot breath assaulting my skin as he leans in and whispers, “Are you aware of how expensive that drink was?”
I scoff, ignoring the hot pangs of desire coursing through me. “A few bucks, maybe? Absolutely nothing for me, but I’m sure it’s concerning for a servant—”
My words are cut off as Nathaniel’s hand wraps tightly around the back of my neck, holding me still.
