Page 45 of Ruthless Desire

The elevator doors slide open with a soft ding, revealing the dimly lit interior of my lair. The air is thick with the scent of jasmine and smoke, a heady combination that instantly sends my senses into overdrive.

I stalk through the shadows, every nerve ending on high alert. I can almost taste her presence, feel the electricity crackling in the air.

And then I see her.

Natalie is curled up in one of the plush armchairs, a book dangling forgotten from her fingertips. She's wearing one of my shirts, the white fabric a stark contrast against her olive skin. Her long legs are bare, and I can see the fading marks of my hands on her thighs.

My cock twitches at the sight, a low growl rumbling up from my chest. She tenses, sensing my presence, but doesn't turn around. Playing coy, as if that will save her from what's coming.

"Hello, solnyshko," I purr, my voice pitched low and dangerous. "Did you miss me?"

I watch as a shiver runs through her, her breath catching audibly. Slowly, she turns to face me, those whiskey eyes blazing with a cocktail of emotions – fear, defiance, and something darker, hotter.

"I wondered when you'd return," she says carefully, each word precise and loaded. "This place does grow so... terribly boring without your unique brand of entertainment."

The bald challenge in her tone is unmistakable, as is the brazen suggestion lurking beneath. It's enough to snap the last thread of my restraint.

In three long strides, I'm across the room. I seize a fistful of her inky hair, wrenching her face up to meet mine as I loom over her trembling form. My other hand finds her throat, squeezing just enough to send a jolt of both fear and arousal through her.

"Entertainment?" I growl against the harsh apple of her cheek. "You want entertainment, moy voron?"

Without waiting for a response, I crush my mouth against hers in a savage, punishing kiss. She struggles for a moment, her small fists beating ineffectually against my chest. But then she melts into me with a broken moan, her body betraying her as it always does.

I ravage her mouth, tasting whiskey and sin on her tongue. My hand slides from her throat to her breast, palming the soft flesh roughly through the thin fabric of my shirt. She arches into my touch, a needy whimper escaping her.

"That's it," I murmur against her lips. "Show me how much you've missed me, you little slut."

I feel her tense at the crude word, a flicker of that ever-present defiance sparking in her eyes. But before she can voice her protest, I silence her with another bruising kiss.

My hand travels lower, pushing up the hem of the shirt to find her bare and already wet. I groan at the discovery, two fingers easily sliding into her pussy.

"So eager," I taunt, pumping my fingers slowly in and out. "Your mouth says no, but your cunt... oh, your cunt knows exactly who it belongs to, doesn't it?"

Natalie whimpers, her hips rocking against my hand of their own accord. I can see the internal war raging behind her eyes – the part of her that still wants to fight warring with the part that craves my touch like a drug.

"Please," she gasps, though whether she's begging me to stop or continue, I'm not sure she even knows.

I withdraw my fingers abruptly, earning a frustrated whine from her. "Not yet, little raven," I chuckle darkly. "The night is young, and I have plans for us."

I step back, drinking in the sight of her – flushed and panting, my shirt rucked up around her waist, her eyes wild with a mixture of hate and hunger. It's a vision that never fails to stoke the fire in my belly.

"Get up," I command. "We're going out."

Confusion flickers across her face. "Out? But I thought—"

"You thought wrong," I cut her off sharply. "Now be a good girl and do as you're told. Unless you'd rather I punish you first?"

The threat hangs heavy in the air between us. For a moment, I think she might challenge me – part of me hopes she will. But then she lowers her eyes in submission, a sight that sends a fresh surge of lust through me.

"No," she says softly. "I'll be good."

"Excellent choice," I purr, reaching out to stroke her cheek almost tenderly. "Now, let's get you dressed. I want you looking absolutely ravishing tonight."

I lead her to the massive walk-in closet, flicking on the lights to reveal racks upon racks of designer gowns, lingerie, and shoes – all in her size, all chosen specifically to accentuate her lush curves.

"Arms up," I instruct, and she complies wordlessly as I peel my shirt off her body, leaving her naked before me.

I take my time selecting her outfit, reveling in the way she shivers under my appraising gaze. Finally, I settle on a blood-red gown that clings to her every curve, the neckline plunging dangerously low. The fabric is whisper-thin, leaving little to the imagination.

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