Page 3 of Fortress of the King

Imagining my dirty hands on her body, makes me want to stalk her into the depths of hell.

Maybe Mondays are finally looking up.

I take her hand in mine, and before I can stop myself, I kiss her soft skin, my eyes never leaving hers.

“Miss Michaelson, welcome to the company,” I reply as Claire stares at me with an open mouth. “I hope you’re being instructed and trained to the high standard expected at Fortress Galleries. We thrive on excellence, reward loyalty, punctuality, and above all, expect obedience.”Take that how you will.

The slight dig at Claire has her all but squirming back into the shadows.

I’m hardly known for my chivalry; this is comical even to me, and I definitely don’t greet any of my other employees in this manner.

If she knew the real me, she’d run a mile.Or maybe she already senses what lurks beneath, and she likes it.

Stranger things have happened.

“Oh yes, thank you,” she says. “I’ve learned so much already, and everyone has been very accommodating.”

I bet they have.

There are no doors that can’t be opened by that degree of beauty.

Fortress Galleries is run by my tough-talking, ball-busting manager, Patricia, and she doesn’t employ idiots, except Claire, who needs to pick her jaw up off the floor before she makes an even bigger fool of herself.

Rayne seems unfazed, which is odd and slightly disturbing.

Maybe I’m losing my magic touch?

I’m giving it all I’ve got, which usually doesn’t take much, but she doesn’t even spare a glance down my body. Thankfully, my open newspaper covers the missile I’ve got going on in my pants.

I’m a sexual man by nature, but this is fucking ridiculous. I didn’t intend to nut one out before I got to the office.

Normally people know my reputation. Normally they’re threatened by me, but that doesn’t stop them from being drawn in. It never does. If anything, it’s even more alluring.

The danger.

The power.

The peril.

The money and all the bullshit that immense wealth brings.

I’ve built my merciless kingdom up from ground zero, and anyone and anything that gets in my way will suffer. They end up on their knees, begging for forgiveness.

Sometimes, I forgive.

Sometimes, I punish.

Sometimes, the devil smiles back and delivers as he sees fit.

I take what I want, and I want her. I’d love to tie her to my bed and take my time, keep those heels on her and kiss that red lipstick off until she’s choking on my cock.

The femme fatale, that’s what she is. A dangerous species that I am familiar with.

I don’t need complications, and everything I know tells me to steer clear of her. But I’m also a man who enjoys a chase. Sometimes I prefer it when they play hard to get.

I also do not usually engage in conversation or meaningless banter unless it serves me, of course.

“You must let me show you around some time and give you the grand tour. I’ll set it up with Patricia the next time I’m downtown.”You’re not getting away, little fish. I want to know all about you.

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