Page 22 of Sinful Games

Her sarcasm almost made me laugh. I wondered if she was always this sharp-tongued. Part of me was fucking turned on by it.

“Oh, worse, baby,” I whispered as I closed the gap between us. “I’m going to make you scream.”

Yeah, it was a cliché and inappropriate line, but I said it to see her reaction.

I wanted to make her blush, see her green eyes darken, feel the heat between us, and watch her chest heave with anger. Annoying her was way too fucking entertaining.

As if on cue, a single drop of water slid down her neck, landing between her breasts. I couldn’t resist tracing its path with my finger, savoring the warmth of her skin as it followed the curve of her chest. I lifted my finger, keeping my eyes locked on hers, and licked it clean.

"You're disgusting," she breathed.

“And you are...” I said, letting my gaze roam over her body. “Too naïve for your own good.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “If you think I’m going to have sex with you, wake up. I don’t touch annoying, ugly, airheaded, self-absorbed, arrogant men with a ten-foot pole, let alonewith my finger.”

I tilted my head, brushing my lips with my hand to hide a smile.

I took in the quick rise and fall of her breath, the twitch of her emerald eye, the way she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and the curious arch of her eyebrow.

Up close, I could even spot the freckles peeking out from beneath her makeup.

As she lifted her chin to meet my gaze, her warm breath lightly brushed against my neck.

“Your papa thinks otherwise, Caia.”

Her face paled slightly. "What do you mean?"

I hated it when men dangled their women, daughters, or mistresses in front of me like a carrot, hoping I'd take a bite—as if I were that fucking predictable.

Sure, being part of the Silas had its perks—money, status, power, women, and more. So, any bastard would do anything—and I mean anything—to get our attention, desperate to stay in our good graces.

And Kristan Mankiev was no fucking different. But his daughter… there was something about her that drew me in. I couldn’t figure out if it was because I wanted to screw over her old man or just show that her sharp tongue was no match for my charms.

I knew exactly how to make a woman beg for my dick, and I was damn well determined to prove it.

Caia Mankiev was going to fall for me. I’d fucking make sure of it.

“What do you think he bought you here?” I leaned closer. “He just wants his little daughter to play the good little whore so he can close his biggest deal ever.”

Her emerald eyes blazed with anger, but the fire quickly faded. A sly grin played on her red lips as she patted myshoulder.

"I'd rather have sex with a toothless, disabled, amputated, plague-ridden, fat man than ever have to hear your voice again, let alone have sex with you, Romaniev."

I scoffed, doing my best to push aside the disturbing mental image she'd conjured, or my wandering thoughts about her bouncing tits as she rode that damn fat, toothless, plague-ridden bastard.

"Is that the best you could come up with?"

She clenched her fists. “Don’t worry about my comebacks.”

“You look rather cute when you're angry," I remarked, playfully pinching her cheek, but she pushed my hand away. "Almost like an innocent child. But having a Papa like yours," I clicked my tongue against my teeth, "guarantees a promiscuous life."

"Well, it takes one to know one, doesn't it?" She shot back.

Did she just call me a whore?

I almost wanted to laugh.

I took a few deliberate steps forward, and she instinctively took a few steps back until her back hit the wall.

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