Page 70 of Gamble with Me
I threw him a pointed look, knowing he smiled under his mask.
"So, you're saying I'm poor and rich at the same time?" He stood up and brought the bag with the second burger and coke. I exchanged the noodles for the meat, thinking about his question.
"I think," I started after a moment of gathering everything I knew about him. Basically, I imagined what it would look like if he were Zyon. "You're rich, but this is a great hideout. You picked this place because," I wrinkled my nose, tapping the stick against my chin and pondering why someone would want this warehouse, "it's in a great location, or no one would ever try to find you here. Yet you're not able to give up on some luxury."
"You're right, mon cœur," he sighed theatrically that I uncovered his secret, and I smiled victoriously. "But I'm not just rich." He shrugged nonchalantly, sitting back on the bed and gently wiping the mayonnaise from my mouth. My stomach fluttered, and for a moment, I couldn't tear my eyes from his.
"I own a two-hundred-million-dollar yacht parked in private docks in the Bahamas," he disclosed, tenderly brushing his fingers along my jaw. "With a three-story house and three hundred acres of land."
"It sounds like paradise," I whispered, my heartbeat intensifying. "Why didn't you imprison me there?"
The low chuckle that always made my insides quiver with delight escaped his lips, and he leaned closer so our noses almost touched.
"You're not a prisoner, Valeria," he whispered, his finger grazing my neck. "But I can tie you to bed if you wish so."
"For what reason?" I asked quietly, imagining very inappropriate scenarios.
"To make you forget about reality," he replied, his hand moving to my breast. "We still have a few hours until you should return from work."
"That's a tempting offer." I sank my teeth into my lower lip when his palm cupped my breast, and my body heated up as I watched his index finger circling my nipple through the thin fabric of my sweater.
"It's up to you, mon cœur," he uttered in a sensual whisper. "Will you allow me to worship you?"
I inhaled a few shaky breaths, fisting the bedsheets while Zefarin's hand-rolled up my sweater and exposed my skin. The cold leather glove starkly contrasted with my heated body, and I released a hushed moan. Tilting my head back, I closed my eyes, enjoying his touches that ignited the fire in my chest.
My panties were drenched with desire, and I hated my leggings for standing in the way of my pussy. He caressed it through the thin textile, making me wriggle impatiently. I wanted more of him. Icraved everything.
"Is it a yes, Valeria?" Zefarin asked, pressing his thumb over my pulsating clit. I whimpered, looking at him through hooded eyes.
"Yes," I breathed, gasping for air when his hand shot up and wrapped around my neck. His thumb stroked my lower lip while he watched my mouth as if enchanted.
"Wonderful." He sat on his heels, his eyes glistening with excitement. "I'll get rid of the dog and get you prepared."
"What?" I whispered, staring at him as he jumped from the bed and opened the door close to the headboard I hadn't noticed before. Bluff instantly ran there, and Zefarin threw the second burger behind him. A giggle left my mouth, watching him climb the bed and look at me as if I were a Goddess.
"Now, I'm all yours, my lady," he claimed, his eyes reflecting happiness that I couldn't see on his face.
"You're mine since the moment you saw me," I teased, wiggling my eyebrows. "Don't pretend that the dog had your full attention."
"Very true," he sighed, shrugging and lowering his gaze as if ashamed. "You're my biggest obsession, Valeria."
He nested beside me, roaming my body with his hungry, passionate eyes that could express anything he felt. His rough hands pushed my sweater up, exposing my chest, and he motioned for me to lift my arms and then pulled it over my head.
I gasped when the cold air attacked my skin, but my attention was quickly directed elsewhere. Zefarin hooked his fingers into the hem of my leggings and slowly removed them. My eyes were glued to his palms that caressed my ankles, moving up leisurely, enjoying every inch he could touch.
I felt my pussy clenching just from watching him touch me. His hands were gentle but firm and demanding, escalating pleasure that traveled into my every cell. My senses were clouded with bliss when he stroked my thighs, and I noticed his breathing growing heavy.
"Will you tell me about this?" His profound voice disturbed my aroused state, and I looked down at his thumb, grazing the lines of my panda tattoo. Zefarin touched my chin, bringing my eyes back to his, and a lump formed in my throat when the emotions from the past mixed with my feelings for him.
"You don't have to if you don't want to, mon cœur," he whispered soothingly, caressing my face.
I inhaled deeply, remembering the day I placed this little reminder on my skin. It was a week before Zara was born—before my entire world turned upside down—and I found the permanent meaning in life.
"It's a reminder of my parents," I said, looking at the smiling panda holding a daisy close to its heart. "Mom called Dad a grinning panda because he was always in a great mood, and her name was Daisy."
"It's beautifully thoughtful," Zefarin uttered quietly, kneading my thigh. "You have them with you forever."
"I don't want to think about them right now," I said, shoving the memories of my past back where they belonged—into the deepest corners of my mind. "I want you."
