Page 75 of The Owner's Temptation

His mouth brush against my ear as he calls my bluff. “Liar.” He pulls back slightly, meeting my eyes. “You’re out of your league.”

“I am not,” I protest weakly, not even convincing myself.

In another swift motion, he spins me around, pressing me forward onto the table. His hand travels up my back, holding me firmly down. I watch our reflection in the aged mirror ahead, my stomach tightening with desire.

His exploring hand ignites trails of fire along my hip and ass, slipping inward along my thigh. He growls softly, pressing his erection firmly against me, teasing me.

“You did come here looking for something, didn't you, little rabbit?”

I shudder, every muscle in my body coiled with anticipation. His touch is slow, deliberate torment, grazing the sensitive junction where my thigh meets my pelvis, hovering there, just out of reach.

I hold my breath, desperate for more, aching for him to claim me.

He grips my thigh firmly, pulling my hair back sharply with his other hand, forcing me to watch our reflection in the mirror. My eyes widen, mesmerized by the raw, erotic image.

His lips brush lightly against my ear, voice dripping with sensual menace. “You’re a scared little rabbit," he murmurs, pausing to drag out my torment.

I squirm beneath him, craving contact, silently begging him to end the exquisite torture.

"And if you’re not careful, you'll get eaten alive.”

He pulls me upright, releasing my hair, and turns me to face him without allowing any distance between us. One hand circles my throat possessively, while the other deliberately pulls down the hem of my dress.

Anger flashes through me, knowing he’s only played with me, teasing me without intent to fulfill.

“Go,” he commands, stepping back.

Cold.

Dismissive.

My body stiffens, pride burning hotly beneath my skin.

I watch as he backs away, muscles flexing beautifully with each deliberate step up to his throne. He turns back, towering over me, watching silently as I remain standing there—aroused, angry, and utterly at his mercy.

It infuriates me. The Devil’s playground is his domain—his rules absolute, just like Lucian at the Ledger. And tonight, I’m just another piece on the board.

With my jaw clenched tight, I turn and leave. But not without making a promise to myself.

I’ll come back. And next time, he won’t turn me away.

Evening settles heavily over the city, deep shadows stretching across my office.

I glance at my watch, the time ticking steadily toward the gala. Sienna's had the day off, though she probably didn't realize it was intentional. The event tonight would be demanding enough, a new challenge I know she’ll be eager for.

My shoes echo softly on the polished marble as I head down to the Ledger spa. Anticipation coils low in my stomach. I sent her a dress earlier today—Ledger red, provocative, perfectly tailored. But something tells me she won’t have worn it.

I'm counting on that defiance, in fact.

Sheshouldpush me on this.

Entering the spa, the soothing scents of lavender and eucalyptus fill the air. The attendants immediately quiet, stepping aside respectfully as I approach the private lounge where Sienna waits.

My heart picks up pace just slightly.

When I open the door, my suspicion is confirmed. There she stands, breathtakingly beautiful but definitely not wearing the dress I sent. Instead, she’s chosen a classic little black number that hugs every curve of her body perfectly.

Her hair cascades over her shoulders, styled loosely, effortlessly elegant. Her eyes snap to mine immediately, challenging and slightly defiant beneath her careful composure.

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