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Demyen freezes.
So do I.
His assistant stands a few feet behind him, clearly resisting the urge to arch a brow. “You’re needed at the main house.”
The growl in Demyen’s throat rumbles enough to scatter stones. “Are you fucking serious?—”
“We’ve got company.”
The way she says it has him easing his hand from me and discreetly wiping his fingers against his pants. “Who?”
“Detective Patterson.”
No.
No. No, no, no, no,no.
Anyone but Martin.
30
DEMYEN
Motherfucker.
I despise being interrupted under normal circumstances. When I’m eating, when I’m drinking, when I’m speaking, don’t fucking interrupt me.
But when I’m intoxicated on the way Clara’s scent is wholly mine? When I’m working her deliciously sweet pussy to the brink of release so I can hear her moans and taste her sighs?
I don’t care if he’s a cop—I’m going to fucking murder him.
I can’t immediately place why that name rings a bell; I’m too distracted by the way Clara’s breasts strain against the flimsy excuse of a dress as she gasps to catch her breath. Those hard nipples are begging to be sucked, and I’m?—
Focus. Fucking focus, dumbass. The cops are here.
“Demyen.” Bambi’s voice is as effective as a snap of her fingers. “What do you want to do?”
Shoot him in the head.
“What the fuck does he want?”
Bambi cocks a brow. “Do you really have to ask?” But when she sees my glare, she erases the attitude. “Patterson, Dem.MartinPatterson.”
And the name clicks into place.
Fuck.
I glance at Clara and immediately realize those tremors aren’t from the tension of an interrupted orgasm. She’s terrified. Not even looking at me with her soft green eyes, which are widened in horror and staring off into some dark abyss only she can see. She’s slumped against the column, shaking and sinking into some mental zone that honestly kind of scares me.
I’ve been intentionally cruel to her all night, but I enjoyed her fire. I’ll never say it out loud for as long as I live, but I actuallywanther rebellion.
Seeing that fire snuffed out, watching the dark shadows that haunt her suddenly overwhelm her entire being—and at the mention ofanother man’s name—has me forgetting all about how I’m supposed to be punishing her.
“Clara.”
It takes a moment, but she looks at me.
“Come with me.”
