Page 6 of Claim

“I would have heard something that salacious considering the circles I run among. I take it Mr. Pierce isn’t very outgoing.”

“More of the brooding, aloof type. On the rare occasion that he socializes, it’s with Mr. Morelli, Mr. Ventana, and the few others in their select circle of friends.” Tate stood straight and smiled at the person who’d approached. “Speaking of Mr. Ventana.”

I turned to face Clark Ventana, Violent Delight’s head of operations.

He gave me a wicked smile that would have made most women melt on the spot.

“I had a feeling you would grace us with your presence tonight. And why am I not surprised you beelined it to the bar?”

Shrugging, I responded with, “A lucky guess.”

Describing him as beautiful was an understatement. Clark had an old Hollywood aura about him, with dark blond hair and sky-blue eyes.

His self-assurance and charm drew me in but not in a romantic way. It was more of a friendly or brotherly type of magnetism. Maybe it was because of his relationship with Lucian. Nothing could ever come of it, even if I had been interested in Clark. Lucian was open to many things, except when it came to his friends. He probably wanted to prevent me from ending up with someone as overprotective and crazy as he was.

If only big brother knew I shared some of his unconventional personality traits. But those were my secrets. Along with the multitude of ones I kept under the guise of the party girl the world saw.

“Are you here to observe again, or will you participate?”

I glanced over my shoulder as that prickle from before skidded along the back of my neck. “It all depends on who piques my interests.”

“Well then, let me show you around, and you can find out if anyone tickles your fancy.”

Knowing my time with Tate was over, I stepped off my stool and tucked my arm into Clark’s. “Lead the way, Mr. Ventana.”

CHAPTER THREE

Damon

Who was that woman on Clark Ventana’s arm?

I’d wanted her from the moment I’d set my eyes on her.

She looked like a goddess, with her dark hair styled in a messy bun with little tendrils of curls framing her face and cascading over her shoulders.

She had paused in the entrance near the hallway, scanning the lounge as if utterly oblivious to how she commanded the room’s full attention.

My heart had raced, and my cock had stiffened in response to her powerful pull.

Now upon closer inspection, I can see she was fucking breathtaking.

I set my tumbler on the table beside me and stared, imagining how her hair would feel between my fingers as I pushed her down to her knees or made her crawl to me.

She’d ignited a craving unlike anything I’d experienced before.

I wanted her in a way that made me ache to consume and destroy her. Everything about her screamed sex and submission, and I planned to have more than just a taste.

Those fucking lips were perfect, full, lush. I couldn’t wait to hear her pleading and the cries coming from them.

The unique style and edge to her clothes, combined with the confident way she carried herself, projected strength and complete self-assurance.

But I saw through the façade down to the aura of pure innocence lying underneath.

An experienced submissive wouldn’t have taken that brief moment to compose herself or to scan the room as if searching for some unknown.

This woman held many secrets, and it would take the strongest of us to tempt her into relinquishing all that pent-up control.

Good thing I sat among those ranks.

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