Page 51 of Sinful Games

Caia Mankiev.

That woman’s under my skin like poison.

Next time, I’ll bring the real handcuffs.

I’ll keep her tied up, helpless until she understands—until she knows what happens when she tries to pull away from me. She’ll beg me not to stop, kiss me the way she did last night, desperate and raw.

When I close my eyes, I can feel her lips on mine, our tongues tangled, the way she’d bite me, testing, before soothing with a kiss. It wasn’t just lust; it was something darker, like she needed me to rip apart whatever walls she had left. Every movement between us felt dangerous, electric. She was fucking starving for my touch, and I knew it.

Then those sounds she made—fucking hell,those desperate, needy moans that only fueled the fire burning in my chest.

Every time I sucked on her tongue, I felt her surrender, likeshe couldn’t help herself. She melted against me, and I had her for a split second.

I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve got this relentless urge to do things to her—things she’s never dreamed of. All I wanted was to make her cum so hard she’d never look at anyone else, never want anything that didn’t have my fucking name on it.

She’d be mine, body and soul, and she wouldn’t even have the will to fight it.

Mine.

I hate that word. Hate how women get all clingy after you fuck them, like they own a piece of you. But with her... it’s different. There’s no getting away from it. She’s in my head, twisting me up inside, and I can’t fucking stand it.

I don’t care about anything except having her again.

I thought it was just her body I wanted, just for one night. But that was a lie.

I want all of her, every part.

And I won’t fucking stop until she’s mine.

Chapter

Sixteen

“Life is not always a matter of holding good cards, but sometimes, playing a poor hand well.”

?Jack London

Caia

Twenty-five thousand dollars.

Tonight, I had to steal twenty-five thousand dollars for my completely useless, overbearing father. A man who couldn’t even manage his own chaos but still somehow made it my problem.

And that wasn’t even the low point of the day. Aside from the delightful little side gig of nearly having Romaniev in my bed—which, by the way, almost happened, but I backed out because apparently, self-sabotage is my superpower—I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning like some kind of cat in heat. Chest tight, mind spinning, my hands between–.

Anyway.

Fast forward to this morning, and I’m already bracing myself when I get a call from dear old father.

Another absurd, soul-crushing favor to ask me. Because naturally, that’s what every loving father asks his daughter first thing in the morning. He didn’t even bother to soften the blow—just dropped the bomb like it was business as usual.

“Do this for me, or Drayi’s gonna shove his gun down your throat and pull the trigger,” he said, as if that were a perfectly normal sentence.

So here I am, back at Silas’ casino.Again. At this point, I should probably have my own VIP spot. I’m dressed for the occasion, of course—a short, black dress with a deep V-neckline and billowing sleeves that probably belonged on a runway. My hair’s sleek, makeup’s on point, with a black smoky eye, and the only thing heavier than the eyeliner was the impending sense of doom hanging over me.

My mission? Steal twenty-five grand from as many unfortunate casino-goers as I could.

Why? Well, who the hell knows.

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