Page 9 of Phantom Mine

She swallows and that small, innocuous movement hardens my cock until it’s throbbing against the zipper of my trousers.

“I was told.”

My gaze lingers on her mouth. “And you’re willing?”

Her answer is nothing more than a whispered breath. “Yes.”

“Then you’ll strip for me.” My eyes drag back up to meet hers. “And you’ll do it in an outfit you’d wear on stage for our customers.”

This close, with our height difference, I have a front row seat to watching her pupils dilate at my words. Heat leaks freely into her irises before she blinks, masking the arousal away like it was never even there.

“Who the hell are you?” she rasps.

I run a finger along the line of her jaw until I get to her chin. Tilting it up, I let my eyes roam over her face. “I believe I asked you the question first.”

A tremor runs through her. I feel the weight of her eyes boring into my back as I walk away.

???

This section of the club is off limits to everyone except the one percenters who have been vetted and approved by theFamiglia.

Firenzeis first and foremost a nightclub, but for those select few, we offer premium services. While those include classic striptease dances,Firenzeisn’t a seedy strip club. The dancers we have on staff here are expected to be beautiful, highly trained, and have aje ne sais quoiquality—an indescribable something about them that can draw our VIP customers in and get them spending cash.

Based on the fact that she’s already managed to completely deviate me off my intended course, this woman already meets two of the three criteria. Her dancing skills remain to be assessed.

I’m seated in one of the plush, velvet chairs in our largest VIP room when I hear the side door open and out she walks.

My chest clenches painfully when I glance up from my phone.

An angel.

Aliteral, motherfucking angel.

A dizzyingly tall stiletto emerges first, followed soon after by the rest of her.

She’s wearing a white bodysuit trimmed with lace at the hips and wrists, every inch of her curvy body highlighted in the tight fabric.

The real showstopper is the plunging neckline that reaches all the way down to her belly button. Cording along the decolletage is the only thing that keeps her considerable breasts from falling out of the scrap of clothing she’s wearing.

She’s paired the bodysuit with an equally white choker highlighting her slender neck, a floating halo, and a pair of wings affixed to her back.

My throat dries at the sight of her. I’m suddenly parched like I just spent ten days walking through a desert.

I can’t get enough of looking.

In fact, I don’t know where to look at all.

She was mesmerizing in leggings and a ratty t-shirt but she’s sex on legs in this attire.

I clear my throat in desperate search of relief, but none comes.

Her cocky smirk tells me my reaction isn’t going unnoticed. That only further hardens my cock, her confidence likely the most attractive thing about her.

Her hand finds her cocked hip once more. “Seems to me you approve of my outfit change.”

Visions assault me of tying her hands to my bedframe and fucking her slow to punish her for giving me attitude.

“Are you going to tell me who you are?” I ask.

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