Page 13 of Owned By her Enemy
Normally sex doesn’t bother me either way. Desire is usually an itch I scratch with the nearest willing female. Before Rapunzel, I didn’t care. I certainly never wanted to pursue a woman. But there’s something about watching Lotte that sends blood surging to my cock. There’s almost none of her body on show. No cleavage or upper thigh. But her way of looking at me…
She has no idea how close she is to being thrown over my shoulder, dumped onto the warm sand, and ravaged out here in the sunshine. She’s at my mercy.
But I let her take my hands and draw me further into the sea.
“Lotte,” I warn her as a little wave floods dangerously near to a suit my tailor will probably cry over if I ruin it with salty seawater.
“What?” She opens her eyes wide, the sun making glints of gold in the brown. “Big powerful mafia boss scared of a bit of sea?”
I roll my eyes. “No, but I—”
She takes her opportunity, flicking one dainty foot and splashing my trousers.
“Oops!” Her eyes sparkle with mischief.
I pretend to see something, turning away.
“What’s this?” I point into the water, peering over it.
Curious creature that she is, she’s straight to my side, leaning over where my hand hovers above the water’s surface.
“Where? I can’t—”
I slice my hand, propelling water right up into her face and she splutters, laughing even as she complains and futilely attempts to wipe herself dry. “No fair!”
“I don’t play fair.” I snatch up her hand and she tries to wheel away, pulling her to stand before me. “Don’t move.”
Releasing her, I ping out one cufflink and tug the shirt sleeve over my hand. Her gaze dips uncertainly as I cup the back of her head, my fingers sinking into her hair, and raise the fabric to her face.
“I’m going to dry your face,” I tell her softly.
She doesn’t reply, but surprise and perhaps disbelief creases her brow as I wipe all the droplets carefully away. Then we’re standing in the sea, her warm hair impossibly silky over my hand, my shirt ruined with salt, my trousers soaked, and tension crackling between us.
It’s irresistible.
“I’m going to kiss you.”
She stares up at me, eyes big, still no words. I take that as a yes. I draw her closer with smooth movements she can see. No surprises. I’m learning about how flighty my ptichka is.
My phone trills.
She startles.
Fuck.
I try to ignore it, but the damage is done. She’s withdrawn.
“You should get that. Might be important.”
This time, when she steps away, I let her, yanking my phone out and answering Mikhail’s call with a snapped, “What?”
Barefoot, Lotte clambers over rocks as I answer Mikhail’s panicky questions. She’s so damn cute as she kneels and peers into a rockpool.
A fight has broken out between some low-level Tottenham and Edmonton goons. Something lewd that my men were taunting the Tottenhams about, in a pub of all places. Idiots. I grind my teeth, since I can ill afford more losses in my ranks after my recent bloodbath. But as Mikhail tells me how Edmonton men mocked the Tottenham bastards about their kingpin shafting the Tottenham Princess, I see red.
“Bring them in, and shoot them.”
Mikhail is silent, then, “Yes boss.”
