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LUCA
Lorenzo notices the third time I check my phone while I wait in the back of the car. Although Lorenzo doesn’t attend most of my corporate dealings and events, he does, however, act as my driver by day and is always close by. I’d been inundated at work in the office. From legal trade, a photoshoot, and interview amongst other things. But the task that had my attention was ruining a certain little vipers’ day. And she still hadn’t replied to my last text.
I was beginning to learn there are other ways to torture someone than in the gory sense. Ara’s downfall is inevitable, but I’m having fun ruining her perfect little composure in the meantime. I had one of the delivery men, who was actually one of my men, bug the jaguar statue she has in her office. Since, I’ve enjoyed watching her go about her day. It’s almost comical how quickly she cleared out the black roses and the intolerable bird I delivered on a whim.
I knew the roses would irritate her, but the squawking bird would make her irate. I adjust my suit as I wait for her. She’s already four minutes late.
Lorenzo opens the door and Ara slides into the back seat beside me. Her orchid perfume bombards me. My nostrils flare as I’m yet again reminded of this devilish stalker’s devastating beauty with curves that torture any man—but especially me.
“You’re late,” I reprimand.
“Actually, I’m leaving work early tonight. You of all people would know that.”
I smirk.
Despite her reluctance I can tell she touched up her make-up. I know because I watched her as she did it. What I am not so sure of, is whether she’s wearing the little green piece I specifically instructed her to wear.
I place my hand on her knee and squeeze. Her breath falters.
“Did you like my gifts today?”
She looks out the window, actively avoiding my gaze. “I couldn’t believe how I’ve become the luckiest girl in the world,” she says sarcastically.
I smile, and although she’s not watching me directly, her breath hitches again. Whether Ara likes to admit it or not, she’s attracted to me. Her body gives me all the signals. My hand glides higher up her thigh, and she watches it with careful calculation.
“What is my whore willing to do to show her appreciation?” I ask.
A cunning smile stretches across her face. “I don’t think most men would go to such efforts to treat their whore so sweetly.”
My fingers dig into her inner thigh and my cock twitches at the thought of all the ways I can hurt this little viper and make her beg for more.
Because I will make Arabella Barone beg for me.
“Some are better with their mouths then others,” I simply say.
“Some lack in a fulfilling appetite,” she replies with a sickly-sweet smile. Venom coats her gaze.
I kick up a smile. “Most women would be grateful for my attention. Fortunate, even.”
A dark, haughty laugh escapes her. “You do realize you’re a psychopath, right?”
“A psychopath that, whether or not you like to admit, you’re attracted to.”
She chokes on another laugh. “You wish.”
Ara watches me cautiously as I thread my fingers through her hair and slowly begin to tug it back.
“Your tell signs are when your pulse quickens,” I say as I lean in. “Your fingers always slightly curl into themselves, as if you’re trying to hold back your impulse to grab me.” I graze my breath along her neck. “Your breath hitches whenever you anticipate I’m going to touch you in some way.”
She releases a breath as I stroke my hand up her thigh to reach her panties. Instead, I’m met with flesh. Wet flesh.
I curve an arrogant smile. “You wore my present.” My fingers roll over her clit and I slowly watch the tension in her body rock between hate and desire.
“You didn’t exactly give me a choice,” she says breathlessly.
“Good girl.” I dip a finger into her pussy. My mouth is on hers when she breathes in sharply. I consume her. Anything this woman is and has I want. I’ll make every part of her mine to break. I will uncover every inch of her inside and out.
I slip a second finger in, and she moans, soaking my hand. My cock aches, but when she goes to grab it, I jerk back on her hair.
