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“No. She was killed.”
“Killed?” My insides squeeze and I feel even worse.
“Yes.” He stands and walks over to the windows to close the blinds, the only modern thing in the room.
“I’m truly sorry,” I mutter, my voice frail and soft. “That’s awful.”
He turns to face me and leans against the wall, folding his arms. “I appreciate that.”
A moment of awkward silence passes between us and I can’t think of anything else to talk about that’s safe. More awkward seconds tick by, and I realize my time has run out.
So when he smiles and mischief dances in his eyes, I know to prepare myself.
“All talked out?” He looks me over with interest and makes his way back to me.
Nervously, I shift from one foot to the other and try to keep my composure. “I’m tired now. Can I just go to bed?”
“Really?” He stops way too close. As close as he was before we came into the office. Except now I can smell his masculine scent beneath the cologne. It’s jarring me and infringing on my ability to think past his overbearing dangerous presence.
“I told you what I was doing.”
“But you were still breaking into my office.” One corner of his lips turns up into a sexy smile. “If I make a mistake and kill a man because I thought he was someone else, doesn’t make him any less dead, does it?”
“No, but that’s not the same thing.”
“It’s the same damn thing in my eyes.”
“Well not everyone is as psychotic as you.”
Another real smile spreads across his face. “How about we find out just how psychotic I am and I allow you to choose your punishment?”
“Me? Choose?” I almost feel relieved, but when I think properly, I realize he’s not going to justallowme to choose something that won’t entertain him in some way.
Desmier inches even closer. “From two things.”
“What two things?”
“Either you let me fuck you against the wall, or you suck my cock.”
ChapterFourteen
Anastasia
Awave of fire slides over my skin and my body tightens with the numbness crawling through my nerves.
I want to slap him for talking to me like that, but my head is spinning and I’m shockingly conflicted.
My mind attempts to right itself but the undeniable throb of arousal in my core is unashamedly curious to explore either of those options—let him fuck me against the wall or suck his cock.
Scandalous images come to my mind, doubling my heartbeat, and the tendril of desire dancing in my veins pushes me toward the dark side.
What would it feel like if I gave my body to this devil?
I think he’d take me ruthlessly and ruin me.
But would I like that?
Anastasia, no. What the actual hell are you thinking?
