AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Yeah, I was the sick bastard who fantasized about getting under her skirt. Or, better yet, bending her over that huge monstrosity of a desk in the library and baring her fine bubble ass to my hand.
Her eyes darkened and landed on me.
She stormed up to me and poked a refined finger in my chest.
“You,” she spat out. “This is your fault. I know you’re the one behind this fucking insane idea. Only someone as sick as you would come up with such a twisted plan.”
She stood toe-to-toe with me, the top of her head barely reaching my collarbone.
My blood roiled at her baffling accusation, aggression, and conceit. But my cock stirred—oh, did it stir—at her display of spirit.
I fantasized about taming a strong woman like her. Any woman who became mine would have to thrive on my special brand of domination. I wasn’t an insecure man; I didn’t need to have the upper hand with a woman of Clara’s caliber to boost my own self-worth. I would give my left nut for the privilege of providing for her every need and whim.
But I couldn’t give her a clue as to how enticing she looked—a little dark angel trembling with rage in front of me, nudging me with her tiny finger. I cast a disinterested glance toward the open window, the scorching California sunlight making everything overly bright for a New Yorker like me, and then slid back to her.
Curling one side of my lips in a scornful smirk, I swiped her touch off me.
“Don’t act like you’re about to go toe-to-toe with me, little girl. Your lack of manners is nearly unforgivable.”
“Un-un-forgivable? My what?” she sputtered out in a spitting rage. “Who even speaks like that?”
“Yes, unforgivable because they’re uncouth,” I growled back. “I’m the only one in this godforsaken place with the balls to call you on your behavior. You’re the kind of spoiled brat begging for a man with a firm hand to take control.”
“You’re unbelievable, you arrogant di—”
My hand collared her throat.
Her spine met the wall.
“Don’t finish it,” I warned. “Watch what you’re about to say to me, Clara.” My forefinger and thumb hover in front of her eyes, an inch apart from each other. “I’m this close to losing my patience. I don’t know what happened in the library, but it wasn’t my doing. Sebastian and I have been at the negotiating table with you, Grigore, and Boian for weeks. Weeks of fruitless negotiations. It got to the point that Alex had to send Nicu to clean up this mess. I’ve been my sef’s advisor for a decade, and yet he brought in his most inexperienced brother because I couldn’t finish the job.”
I edged closer, my mouth mere inches from her luscious lips. I wanted to bury my front teeth into those plump, pouty red lips and devour them. Devour her.
“Imagine the shame. And who should I blame for this, huh? Your consilier, for sure. But mostly, you. You’re the reason for this clusterfuck because until you, I succeeded in everything I did.”
Her eyes flickered, splinters of moss green bleeding through and invading the blue. My gaze flicked from one iris to the other and back, riveted, drinking in that beguiling color.
There was one other time I’d seen her eyes change color like that, but before I could conjure the memory, she interrupted me, “Get your fucking hand off me. Don’t ever touch me without my permission.”
I dropped my hand.
Stepped back.
She was right, of course. It wasn’t a show of force, as she’d assumed. It was a show of dominance, a show of my diabolical urge to own her, worship her, drive my cock into her tight heat.
I’d been sent here to bring a small, but nasty little clan under control. Not only had I failed, but the object of my hate, my desire—dark humiliating urges—strained my epic self-restraint like nothing else.
Clara broke open the floodgates to drives I’d had on a tight leash until now. It hadn’t been hard to keep my distance from women. Don’t get me wrong, I liked to touch. I just didn’t like to be touched. Every couple of years, I broke my self-imposed celibacy and went out on a bender to a club for very specific needs like mine. There, I could touch and torture to my heart’s content with women who understood the rules, who ached for my brand of punishment if said rules were violated. And they were always violated. That was the nature of the game.
What I did was misunderstood and unacceptable in my society. So I only went when I was at my wit’s end. Now might be a good time to hit up a club and work out my frustration on a willing woman because Clara had to be the most unwilling female imaginable. She antagonized me at every turn. I didn’t make mistakes. I didn’t slip. I didn’t lose my patience. Anything less than perfection was unforgivable, and yet with her, it happened at an alarming rate.
After the little show of power I’d displayed, after wrapping my hand around her delicate throat, feeling the pulse fluttering away under my fingertips, I craved more. But I could never have it. Never have her. We’d destroy each other.
Turning from her abruptly, I prowled the hallway like a caged tiger, returning to stop in front of her. “What happened in there?”
I swallowed down the undeniable urge to fix whatever upset her, a sensation I refused to pry into. The strain of chivalry pushing up right now, for this woman, was damned inconvenient.
She rolled her eyes at me and made an irritated huffing sound. “What does it matter. It’s a done deal.”
