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She’d turned her nose up at me, only to crawl to me when I called, and now, she begged. She screamed for me to let her cum, and I felt the sadist in me begging me to leave her unsatisfied, but even if I wanted to, my dick hardened so much as it expanded, and my eyes were already rolling as I quickened my movements and nearly choked as her walls rippled, and she came with my name on her lips like prayer.
A flash of unusual eyes appeared in my mind’s eye, and for a fucking moment, like a stilled scene, Pig was on her knees, her mouth wide with my name as if I was god on her lips.
With a curse, my tendons popped as my hips jerked against hers, once, twice, and with a gasp, I pulled away from her, flopping on my back. My chest heaving, I felt the glow of sex quickly fade and stared at the ceiling. My eyes narrowed as I quickly rose. “Fuck!”
Irritated, I didn’t even bother to offer words to the still harshly breathing one-night stand. “Connor?”
Grabbing my pants and shirt, I slammed out of the bedroom.
Quickly pulling on my pants and coat, I headed to my office. The woman knew not to follow me; the last time she’d done so, I’d left her on ice for a month and tried out a Spanish mistress of a mafiaso.
Moving to the bar in the corner, I quickly poured myself a stiff one. That fucking woman, she was the bane of my existence. My skin itched, I didn’t lose control. My wildest days could be tied to that gaze, those days of torturing her had been my most sadistic moments.
Every whimper of pain and hopeless expression had awoken the monster that I worked every day to keep down.
What was it about her?
Knocking back the black liquid in my cup, I gritted my teeth against the burn.
I had to stay away from her. She was like a worm, burrowing into my conscious without saying a word. The knowledge she lived, breathed so close, had already twisted the glass mirror.
I would stay away from her, that’s all I need to do.
Stay away from the fucking pig.
A week later, I was still telling myself that only to be called to another dinner.
My old man was staring into the eyes of Celeste like he’d never seen a woman before. Something about the look made me uncomfortable. I stayed to myself in the corner with Lesly and Grant, who’d finally emerged from the perfume thighs at the brothel to make it to the small gathering my father and his girl had made.
Taller than me, and pure muscle, Grant’s hard masculine features were God-given. His eyes drifted over the crowd, more like a predator as he flashed his teeth at a woman who sent him a bold invite. His blue eyes were the draw, and most women didn’t even know the amount of blood on his lily-white hands. His strawberry blonde hair had been dyed dark-black, in an effort to be less noticeable.
“So, your old man’s went for the cocoa, huh?” Grant drawled, a single brow lifting in amusement.
I rolled my eyes, turning my attention to the whisky coke in my hand. “You say that like he didn’t have his fair share of all sorts of women.”
“Yeah, but you know this is different,” Grant said pointedly, pointing at my father who’d just laughed at something Celeste whispered into his ear. “He’s happy.”
I snorted. “He should be, he doesn’t have to deal with SKAO.”
“Hey, isn’t that pig?” Lesly whispered, leaning over so he wasn’t heard by any of the guests.
I wanted to kill him. I’d been doing a great fucking job at not looking at the woman. Not once had my eyes landed on her. In fact, it was almost like I could sense where she was standing and knew to turn away just on point. Lesly had just figuratively shitted all over my hard work.
“Who?” Grant followed his line of sight, and I could immediately see the flash of interest in his eyes.
The fingers of my left hand curled into a fist, and I immediately wanted to remove his eyes from his head. Then, dumb-ass Lesly released a wolf whistle. “Shit, are you sure ‘pig’ is the right word for…that, because that is beyond fuckable!”
I really didn’t want to have to kill the only two fuckers that I trusted in this dirty ass world, but sacrifices were meant to be made, and when I finally turned to look at Pig, I felt the world shift and another crack in the well-placed chains on my control.
Her body was in another short dress, this time it was a bit bolder--a burgundy wine color. It looked more like something that should be worn under a dress. The lacy little number had every males’ eyes on her. Like a bunch of bastard wolves, they scented after her. Her skin shined, and her smile was bright, and her eyes sparkled.
Those damn eyes. Taking a deep drink, I didn’t know what to fucking do. No, I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to pull the gun from within my coat and place a bullet in the center of the skulls of every dumb fuck who watched her now and tear that dress from her body and force her thighs wide, and in front of those dead carcasses, fuck her till she couldn’t fucking smile or think of anyone else.
The clink of ice against the glass of my cup clued me in to the fact I’d already drank the entirety of its contents. Grimacing, I lowered it. Luckily, she wasn’t crazy enough to approach me after my warning. She should be fucking terrified of me. At least, that’s what I thought.
“Connor!”
The crazy bitch not only called out to me, her hand raised. She moved through the crowd towards me and my men.
