Page 14 of Twisted Fate

But honesty makes me acknowledge that there’s another reason I didn’t have my people question her.

From the second I first saw her, the primal, primitive, reptilian part of my brain has screamed mine.

If she has answers, I’ll be the one to pull them from her lush, soft lips.

“Let’s go,” I say with a nod at Vito and Joe. Then I turn to Alina and make a sweeping gesture for her to precede me. “Ladies first.”

She shoots me a look, venom in her blue eyes. If she had a knife, she’d stab me. I’d like her to try. I’d like to pin her underneath me and hold her while she squirms.

“Such a gentleman.” Her words drip sarcasm.

I shrug. “Not really. I just want to stare at your very fine ass in that very short, very ugly skirt.” Her eyes widen. “Now move,” I say, my tone hard.

She moves, walking ahead of me and fuck me but her ass is perfection. Nice and round. It pisses me off that she’s wearing a polyester skirt with an uneven hem and a cheap sequined top. Those legs, those tits, they should be showcased in silk. Or showcased in nothing but stiletto heels and a band of diamonds that I put around her delicate neck.

As if she can hear my thoughts, she glances back at me over her shoulder. Her eyes hold mine for an instant and then she quickly looks away.

I take her to the penthouse on Las Vegas Blvd., one of several properties we own in the city. We pull into the underground. Park. Vito and Joe exit the vehicle, alert for any threat. I get out and walk around to open Alina’s door, positioning myself directly in her path. I don’t move away as she swings her legs to the side, or as she straightens, her breasts just inches from my chest.

She tips her head back to look up at me. “You going to move?” she asks. Asshole, I can see her add silently.

“Such a smart mouth. Maybe I should put something in it to keep you quiet.” I step back just enough to let her pass.

“My teeth are sharp. Little rabbit teeth. And I like to bite,” she says, the slight waver in her tone telling me this is all bravado.

I catch her hand, pulling her to a stop, my chest against her back, her ass pressed against my cock. She freezes.

I take my time running my palm along the side of her waist, her hip, the swell of her ass. Then I lean in and say softly against her ear, “Biting will get you punished.” She sucks in a breath. “I’ll spank those round cheeks until they’re a pretty shade of pink, all flushed and hot from my hand. Then I’ll fuck you, nice and slow, take my time while you beg me to let you come. Maybe I’ll slide a finger in your ass…”

She makes a strangled sound and spins to face me. Her pupils are wide and dark, her irises a thin line of blue. Her lips part. Her breath comes a little faster. The tip of her tongue darts out to wet her lips. She’s afraid of me. And she wants me. It’s a combination that’s alluring as hell. A little fear can be a lot of fun.

Her eyes narrow. She presses those lush lips together. And then her heel slams down on my instep.

“Fuck you,” she says and stalks toward the open door of the elevator that’s currently flanked by Vito and Joe.

I catch her in two strides and walk with her to the elevator where she moves to the opposite corner, as far from me as she can get. I insert the card that allows access to the penthouse. The elevator opens into a marble foyer with double doors opposite us. There are no other doors in this foyer; this is a private floor.

She pauses when we enter the condo, gasping when she sees the view. Lights and night sky and the Sphere, currently aglow in shades of blue and violet. The entire wall is floor to ceiling windows behind a massive white u-shaped sectional. To the left of the couch is a gas fireplace set in a wall of white marble. To the right is a live edge acacia wood dining table surrounded by mid-century modern white chairs and beyond that, a state-of-the-art kitchen complete with a six-burner stove and an island as big as a football field.

“This is where you’ll be staying,” I say. “As my guest.”

“Guests are allowed to leave. Am I?” she asks, her tone flat.

“Not yet.” I nearly smile at the death glare that earns me. Then I hold out my hand. “Phone.”

“What?”

“Give me your phone.”

“No. I’m not going to give you—”

I rest my index finger against her lips. They’re soft and smooth. I wonder if she’ll try to bite me. I’m almost disappointed when she doesn’t. “Give it to me or I will take it. And you will be punished for not obeying me.”

She shakes her head. “I need to know that my brother’s okay. That’s why I want my phone.”

“I’ll be in touch with Markus. I’ll give him your regards.”

Her tough façade cracks, her expression growing desperate. Her eyes are blazing but they’re moist, like she’s fighting tears. “I love my brother, but he’s a fuck up. He’s gotten himself into a mess he can’t fix all by himself. He needs me.”

---