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His lips crash down on me again in a messy, sloppy kiss. He’s been drinking, but I don’t think he’s drunk, just sloppy in comparison to Enzo.
It shouldn’t make me feel guilty kissing Milo, not when Enzo kissed Liesel, but I do. I don’t want to kiss Milo. I don’t care about winning anymore, only surviving. I need to get off this yacht in one piece.
But I also want to punish Enzo and make him suffer for kissing Liesel after he fucked me.
I should be the only woman he kisses.
And he should be the only man I kiss.
Dammit, this stupid game.
Milo presses me hard into a door.
I wince as he fumbles with the door handle.
He doesn’t notice my pain. No man other than Enzo ever has.
Finally, he gets the door unlocked, and we stumble inside.
I’m uneasy on my feet. The little amount of alcohol I’ve had makes me dizzy and lightheaded.
Milo shuts the door and panic rises in my chest. We are in a bedroom, his bedroom by the look of it. The bed is large, filling most of the room. There is a mirror on the ceiling and on the wall. How many women has he brought here and fucked? I don’t want to be the next woman. But how do I get out of this now? First, I need to get the damn ring. Because if I leave now, the kissing him will all be for nothing.
“I could use another drink,” I say, hoping more alcohol in both our systems will result in us passing out before he tries to get me to fuck him.
“Of course, anything you want,” he grins at me. He locks the door he’s standing in front of, his eyes already undressing me as he walks through a door at the back of the room.
I’m exhausted. I want to sit on the bed and get the pressure off my aching feet, but I don’t want him to get any ideas that I want to move things to the bed.
He returns a minute later with champagne and a scotch.
I shake my head. He didn’t even pay enough attention to me to realize I've been drinking scotch all night, not champagne.
“Here you go,” he says holding out the flute glass t
o me.
I grab the scotch from his other hand and sip it.
He smirks at me. “You are the sexiest goddamn woman I’ve ever met.”
I bat my eyelashes at him, trying to act like I’m turned on by his comment instead of disgusted.
I can do this. Just seduce him. Get the ring. And then get out before he tries to fuck you.
I glance around the room as I continue to sip the scotch. He takes my hand, and we sit down on the edge of the bed. I let my eyes drop to the ring again on his pinky finger. The key that will allow me to leave.
Being sexy will be the easiest way to steal the ring.
He leans down like he’s going to kiss me on the lips again, but I grab his hand and instead kiss his palm and set my scotch on the floor. He does the same with the champagne glass.
I kiss him again, and his eyes glue to mine in a heavy terrifying way, because I know what that look means. He’s planning all the ways he wants to fuck me.
I continue kissing his palm, stalling.
Do it.
I take his index finger in my mouth, and suck it like I’m sucking his dick instead of his finger.
