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“Trust me,” I sneer. “Colin wasn’t stealing anything ofyours.”
He drops down to crouch in front of me and grabs me roughly by the front of my bra, yanking me forward. I arch as I sit up, grinding my wet, throbbing pussy into the chair in search of any friction I can get. Luca gives me a look of pure disgust.
“While you’re here, Lynch, you aremine. All of you, including and especially that needycuntof yours.”
I lick my lips and curl my fingers around the armrests, grinding my hips into the chair without even hiding what I’m doing. Luca’s possessiveness is laughable, but his blatant displeasure is getting me off because it’s a victory. And being victorious against Luca Fletcher-Lowe, it turns out, is a total turn-on.
“That, Luca—” My voice comes out short and breathless. “Is notstipulatedin thecontract.”
His jaw is tight; his eyes pierce into me like knife tips. “Neither isfuckingmyemployees.”
It’s the first time I’ve seen him this angry. I bet he wishes he could punish me, right now, claim me with his cock and make me beg him for forgiveness.
I laugh, dirty and mocking. “Someone’s gotta fuckthis trash.”
“No, they don’t.” He twists his hand around my bra strap, pulling the band tight around my ribs, the lace tightening over my hard nipples, sending a ripple of pleasure through me, strong enough to draw an audible sound of pleasure from my throat. He shakes his head, and for the first time, I see true emotion on his marmoreal face. “Why should you get to come when I don’t?”
“Because Ideserveto come,” I gasp, my voice in my throat, my breath a pant, fingers sliding between my legs. “And because there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
My orgasm, frustrated by Colin’s abrupt exit and fuelled by Luca’s fury, comes crashing down on me, a brutal wave that makes my entire body shudder. Luca pulls me forward as I do,and he crushes his mouth against mine, licking deep into my mouth when I gasp in surprise.
He kisses me the way he did in his fencing room, with that revolting tenderness. A lingering kiss like a lover’s, the slide of his tongue shockingly intimate against mine.
I pull back, tearing my mouth away from his with an odiously wet sound. He wipes his gloved thumb across his lip and watches me as I plaster myself back against the couch, eyes wide. My head spins with a mixture of disorienting pleasure and pure, horrifying disgust.
“Every time you come, for the rest of your life,” he says, low and ominous, like he’s pronouncing a curse, “you’ll think ofmymouth.”
He stands, looking down at me like I’m dirt under his shoe. Gone is the fury, carefully smoothed away under a polished veneer of scorn.
“I can promise you I won’t.” My voice comes out hoarse, like my sore throat has returned.
He takes one glove off slowly, finger by finger.
“No. Youwill.” And holding his glove in his fingers, he whips it across my chest, the leather striking my taut nipples through the lace of my bra, drawing a cry of pain from me. He smirks. “Stick to one sin, Lynch. Can’t be a slutanda liar.”
And then he turns and leaves without so much as another look.
23
Bite Harder
Luca
Woodrow has the mostirksome propensity for being right. His foresight and perspicacity are part of what makes him so good at his job, but there are times when it can be nigh unbearable.
This is one such time.
It’s the day after the interview with Mitchell. I’m meeting Woodrow in my London office since I would rather not give Willow another opportunity to eavesdrop on our conversations. Woodrow stands stiffly by my desk while I stare out of the window. The grey landscape of London stretches at my feet, glass and concrete and old stone and the black serpent of the Thames churning like a polluted artery.
Woodrow doesn’t wait even a second before going in for the kill.
“Is there a particular reason you left the interview early yesterday, sir?”
I turn away from the window and settle myself calmly at my desk, sorting through documents as I take the time to formulate a suitable response.
The reason I left the interview early. Flicking through the live feed on my phone because I was—not bored, but paranoid—because I knew Willow would be up to no good. I already caught her stealing items from my house, and I suspect she may have broken into my bedroom and tried gaining access to my office. I checked the security feeds because I thought I might catch Willow robbing me or poisoning my dogs.
I was prepared for Willow’s crimes and misdemeanours—I was not prepared to witness her dragging my driver into my house and plying him with alcohol.
