Page 5 of Savage Obsession

The man’s lips twitch in a semblance of a smile as he gestures to a shadowed corner of the VIP section. “He insists.”

My gaze follows his gesture, landing on a man lounging in a secluded booth. His eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. He’s tall even while sitting, broad-shouldered, and exudes an authority that commands attention even in the dim light. I should walk away. Instead, I hesitate for one last look at me.

“Tell your boss I’m not interested,” I say, my voice steady despite the flutter in my chest.

I stride past them, my heels clicking against the polished floor. My heart pounds, not from fear, but from the lingering imprint of those eyes. They’re unforgettable, like the man himself—a dangerous allure I can’t afford to indulge. I find an empty spotat the bar and slide onto the stool, signaling for the bartender. A glass of vodka on the rocks appears before me, the icy burn soothing my nerves.

Moments later, I feel him before I see him. The air shifts, charged with a presence I can’t ignore, and I know the man from the shadows is beside me.

“I see you have a habit of ignoring invitations,” a deep, velvety voice says. I turn my head and meet pewter-gold eyes. He’s even more imposing in person, his tailored suit hugging a body that speaks of strength and discipline. He looks to be in his early-thirties.

“I didn’t realize it was an invitation,” I reply, keeping my tone light, though my pulse quickens. “It felt more like a demand.”

“A demand wouldn’t have been as polite,” he counters, his lips curving into a smile that’s both confident and dangerously alluring. “And I’m not known for being polite.”

“A self-aware man. Refreshing,” I quip, raising my glass in salute. “But I’m not in the habit of entertaining strangers.”

“I’m Vasil,” he says, his voice smooth but edged with authority. “And I don’t take kindly to being refused.”

“Good for you,” I retort, taking a sip of my drink. “And like I said, I’ve been warned not to talk to strangers.”

His lips curve into a slow, confident smile that makes my breath hitch. “Then let’s not be strangers.”

Against my better judgment, I allow him to sit beside me. There’s something about him—a magnetic pull I can’t seem to resist. His confidence is infuriating, yet intoxicating.

“So why is a beautiful lady drinking all by herself? He raises a perfect eyebrow. “Nursing a heartbreak?”

At his word, I throw my head back and laugh. “The man who would cause me heartbreak is still being formed. He hasn’t come to this earth yet.”

Something in his eyes shifts and the tension between us crackles. An intense energy that seems to envelop us in our own little world. The noise of the club fades into the background as his eyes hold mine, unrelenting and intense. The bartender places fresh drinks in front of us, but I barely notice. I’m too focused on the man beside me and the way he makes my heart race.

“Come with me,” he says after about half an hour later, his voice low and compelling. “It’s too noisy here. Let's go to a place where it's quieter.”

“Why?”

He leans in and whispers in my ear. “Because I’m dying to taste does lips.”

I hesitate, my instincts screaming at me to walk away. But the pull between us is undeniable, stronger than any warning my mind can conjure. I nod, barely aware of the decision as it forms.

“Hmmm, it would be a shame to let you drop dead.”

As we step out, a sleek Rolls Royce pulls up, and we zoom off in it. “Where are we heading?”

“Are you afraid?

“Of you?” I chuckle.

If only he knows who I am. A Russian mafia princess carrying a loaded Beretta in her bag.

After hours of discovering each other's bodies, he steps into the bathroom for a quick shower, and reality crashes over me like a cold wave. I glance at the rumpled sheets, at the space the ‘no longer a stranger’ got up from, and sighs. Although I have thoroughly enjoyed myself with Vasil, I also know it is time to leave.

Quietly, I go about gathering my things with trembling hands and hurriedly get dressed. I did not want him to meet me in the middle of sneaking out. My mind races with the implications of the night. No one in my immediate circle had dared to date me but yet this stranger with eyes like those of a wild lion has devoured me like a starving beast.

I slip out of the room, my footsteps silent as I make my way down the hall. In the elevator, I order a taxi, praying he doesn’t come after me. The night was unforgettable, but then I must return to my reality and the responsibilities that await me.

When I step into the waiting taxi, a mix of relief, regret and exhilaration churns within me. I hope to never see Vasil again, yet a throbbing in my still wet pussy refuses to agree with me.

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