Page 57 of Masked Seduction
“I know,” he says, voice like silk. “Let go, Jenna. Now.”
I shatter at his command, biting back a cry as I come around his fingers. He continues to gently stroke my pussy, easing me down slowly, my breath ragged and shallow. By the time I open my eyes again, we’re pulling up to an exclusive building. His building.
My limbs are jelly as he parks the car in a private underground garage. He finally turns, regarding me with quiet satisfaction, and withdraws his hand. My body aches deliciously, craving more already.
“Ready to get to work?” he asks, a wicked gleam in his eye.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about spreadsheets,” I say breathlessly.
He grins, getting out then coming around to open my door. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
I take his hand, legs still trembling slightly. I never thought Abram Vasiliev could make me this reckless, but I like it. God help me, I like it way too much.
As the elevator doors close behind us, heat pulses through me again. If Abram wants to keep me close today, I’m not going to argue. Not even a little bit.
When the doors slide open, Abram leads me inside with a confident stride. Immediately, the lobby steals my breath. Sleek marble floors gleam beneath towering windows, lush, green plants artfully placed like subtle sculptures. Everything whispers elegance and power. Luxury practically drips from the walls.
The attendant at the front desk glances up and nods respectfully, eyes flicking quickly to me before returning to Abram. His presence clearly commands respect here, but I don’t miss the curiosity in her gaze. She’s probably wondering what the hell I’m doing here, and frankly, I’m wondering the same.
Abram doesn’t pause, guiding me straight to a gleaming glass elevator marked with his private access. The doors part silently, and we step in, soaring smoothly upward, Vegas unfolding beneath us in a glittering panorama. It's breathtaking, majestic, and completely forgotten the instant Abram’s mouth finds mine again.
His kiss is fierce, hungry. His hands grip my waist possessively, and I melt into his chest. My heart pounds against his as he backs me firmly against the glass. A faint rush of vertigo hits me as the city stretches out beneath us, but Abram’s mouth quickly distracts me from it.
“You drive me fucking insane,” he growls against my lips, one hand sliding roughly over my thigh.
“I could say the same about you,” I manage, fingers buried in his shirt, desperate for the heat of his skin.
His tongue plunges deep into my mouth, demanding and irresistible. I moan against him, my legs trembling as the elevator continues its ascent, our bodies pressed impossibly close. His dominance ignites every nerve ending, his roughness exactly what I crave.
The elevator halts smoothly, doors gliding open directly into Abram’s penthouse. He pulls away just enough to lead me inside, and my breath catches all over again.
His home is nothing short of spectacular. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame an astonishing view of the city, sunlight cascading over modern furniture, tasteful artwork, and plush rugs. It’s open, spacious, and beautifully masculine. It suits him perfectly.
“This place is incredible,” I say, gaze sweeping across the luxurious space.
His eyes are locked on me. “Glad you like it. But right now, I have other priorities.”
His tone sends a thrill cascading down my spine. “Such as?”
“Strip.”
My heart skips a beat. “Really?”
He leans against the marble kitchen island, crossing his powerful arms, eyes dark and intense. “Consider it your work uniform while you’re here.”
Heat floods my cheeks, excitement spiking through my blood. I reach for my blouse, but he stops me immediately.
“No. Slowly.” His voice is husky, commanding. “Show me.”
My pulse quickens as I comply, fingers trembling slightly with nervous anticipation. I leisurely undo the buttons, letting my blouse slip over my shoulders. Abram’s eyes darken further, his chest rising and falling at a slightly quicker pace with each measured breath.
I drop my skirt next, sliding it slowly down my hips. His gaze traces every inch of exposed skin, stoking a fire deep in my belly. Down to nothing but my bra, I pause, waiting for his next command.
“Turn around,” he says.
A thrill dances through me, and I obey without hesitation. I can feel his eyes on me, hot and possessive. It’s intoxicating.
He’s behind me in an instant, spinning me around and scooping me into his arms effortlessly, his powerful muscles flexing around me. I wrap my legs around his waist, gasping slightly when he sets me down atop the cool marble of the kitchen bar. He kneels between my thighs, eyes blazing.
