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Anya doesn’t look back as she leads me up the spiral wooden staircase, her posture immaculate and head held high. We walk down the hall, the sound of bidding in the distance as she opens the third door we come to.
It’s a lavish room in size with a wooden bed and silk green blankets and pillows. The rest I don’t care for because my attention is only on her. I’d heard a rumour that Anya has a room in every auction house because she often slips out during them to fuck her two men. The woman has an appetite, and I wonder if they were supposed to be here tonight instead of me.
Like I give a shit. If she needs two men to service her, she obviously hasn’t found someone worthy to match her libido.
“You agree to removing both fees?” she asks, leaving the door open for me to enter but in no way friendly about it. When I close it behind me, I imagine she’s rather disappointed that no one might casually stumble along it and be able to peek in.
“Remember that in this negotiation, I do the fucking,” I say as I approach her and tip that defiant chin of hers higher. A smugness unfurls within me as I realize the small permissions this woman grants me to touch her like this. That her brother’s disappearance has very much become my gain, and I’m not the least bit apologetic for abusing it. I reach for my buttons and begin to undo my collared shirt. “Now, drop the fucking dress.”
“Men don’t tell me what to do in the bedroom,” she spits, and I love the burning rage in those green eyes. I want more of Anya. To bring that crazy to the forefront to see and bathe in all of her ugliness. Because something so beautiful must surely be rotten at the core.
“Yeah, well, you fuck men who are scared of you. I’m not one of those.”
“We shall see,” she bites out as she reaches to her side to unzip the dress. “Late payment will be voided?”
“Yes,” I breathe as I trail my gaze down her body, almost mesmerized. My cock is throbbing, torturing me with how many times I’ve already imagined this.
I will make this woman mine in every way, even if I have to break her in the process.
I simply need to brand her so deeply that she will never be able to leave my side.
My nostrils flare at the carnal urges and thoughts running rampant in my mind.
I’ve never wanted something so badly, yet for this woman…
“Only payment for the stock will be required?” she questions, and fuck me, she’s purposely taking her sweet time with that zipper.
“Yes,” I grit out, then swallow a dry lump in my throat. Fuck, I need to taste her.
“And have you paid for sex before?” she asks, and now I know she’s outright teasing me, enjoying this power she has over me. She shifts her dress ever so slowly, letting it rest on her hips, revealing a lacy black bra. Her tits are so perfect, and it takes all my willpower to raise my eyes to hers. Those fucking eyes that flash wild sex through thick eyelashes.
“No, and I’m not now either.”
Anya is used to men coming to her. This verbal warfare is just part of her temptation. Though I want every part of her, to go to her and take, I know I have to treat Anya differently from any other woman I’ve had before.
“But you are. You’re paying a lot of money to fuck me,” she says, looking almost confused. She’s doll-like with those porcelain features. Bait to the little devil that lies within me.
“Taste, then fuck,” I correct as I move to the edge of the bed and sit. My cock pressing against my trousers is excruciating as I watch her. “Are you telling me, Anya, that you’ve never thought of me fucking you?”
“No,” she says flatly, and a part of me considers she might be telling the truth. Who’s to know since she’s lived a life of not giving anything away. But that’s all about to change tonight. “I don’t fuck men for the enjoyment. I make them do whatever I want. I like the power.”
“Yes, your men.” I nod to her dress, which is still resting on her hips. I didn’t expect her to stall so much, but I also realize this is her game, her power struggle because I’m not falling to my knees for her like everyone else she’s fucked. Fuck, do I want to, though. “Tell me, do you touch your men?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she sasses as she pushes her dress to the floor and turns around in a circle, showing me the goods. My god. As expected, Anya doesn’t wear underwear. And that tattoo of hers is unexpected. But there are many mysteries to unfold tonight.
“I would, actually. Who do you fuck?” I say, my voice all gravel and thirst now. Fuck, if I believed in curses, I’d claim her as a witch.
“Myself.” She smiles sweetly. “Now, do you plan to drop your pants or continue small talk?” she asks. I can’t help the arrogant smile that spreads over my lips. Because I still refuse to give in to Anya like she expects. I raise my hand and indicate for her to come closer. This little she-devil will learn a lesson tonight. I’m not a man she will boss around. Ever.
Her nose raises higher, but she does as she’s told and steps between my legs. I reach for her arm, and I can see the trail of goose bumps that follow. Smooth. Delicate. Soft. Still a woman despite that hard exterior of hers. My hand lands on her stomach and partially on the detailed tattoo.
“Medusa?” I ask, looking at the head and snake wrapped around her side.
“She’s a warrior,” she says, dignified. And so is she.
“Interesting,” I reply as I graze my fingertips along her pubic bone and lower. I watch her, her unyielding expression. The only thing that gives her away is the hooded gaze. The expectation and curiosity. “Tell me, Anya.”
“Yes, Lake,” she barks back, and my lip twitches at her use of the wrong name. Yet again. She’s nowhere near to submitting to me. But I’ll make her.
