Page 41 of Fatal Scheme

Stealing a glance, I look down at him worshiping me from his knees, and I swear, I nearly pass out from the sight, tangling my hands in his hair with a rough grip.

“Don’t fucking stop,” I plead, every single nerve in me on fire, almost ready to explode with the way he’s working me up so devilishly.

He lets out a satisfied hum – as if my begging is only making this better for him – before swirling his tongue over my nipple, sucking it into his mouth while his free hand pinches the other.

“Fuck,” I moan, not caring who hears as I chase an orgasm I never thought was possible with little to no stimulation.

As if my life depends on it, I grip his hair even harder, my breathing intensifying as he switches and gives attention to my other nipple, causing me to shriek and writhe against him.

“Are you wet, my little vampire queen?” He muses, slipping his free hand under my dress, his fingers maneuvering around my panties, and the second he brushes against my clit, my body spasms in response.

“Oh my god, yes,” I answer, my hips bucking as I fight to feel any source of friction, something to assist in the tension building in my belly.

Suddenly, he pulls away, stopping everything all at once, and I let out a frustrated groan, my head tipping back against the wall.

“You cut me, Carter. Now, I think I’ll spend the night edging you until I feel that you’re sorry.” He bites his lower lip, clearly pleased with the mess he made of me, and I stomp my heels in response, folding my arms across my chest.

“That is not fair.” I huff, and he swipes his thumb along my pouty lower lip, a no bullshit look in his eyes.

“Next time you use a knife on me, Principessina, you better kill me.” He readjusts my bra, zips up my dress, and stalks across the room like nothing happened, as if he didn’t leave me a dripping, needy disaster.

“Excuse you. Don’t walk away from me, Jasper!” I call out, grabbing his arm and spinning him to face me. “Don’t. Be. Fucking. Rude.”

Poking my finger into his hard chest only causes him to smile like the fucking devil as he leans down, pressing his lips to mine in a hungry, devastatingly perfect kiss.

He slips his tongue into my mouth, wrapping a hand around my neck as he walks me backwards, crashing my body against another wall.

“We better get back out there, we wouldn’t want anyone to wonder where we’ve been, or what I’ve been doing to you,” he breathes against my skin, lightly biting my cheek as he pulls away, leaving me breathless and desperate, yet again.

“I hate you,” I groan, clasping my hand into his waiting palm, following his lead as he escorts us out of the room.

“Tell that to your soaked panties,” he snarks, a deep laugh coming from his chest as my cheeks flush a bright shade of red.

Before I can make a smart comment, or kick him right in the balls, we emerge back into the main room, all eyes on us.

A few new faces I don’t recognize fill the kitchen, the buzz of multiple conversations happening at once bouncing off the walls.

Finally, I spot Tyson for the first time since we arrived, and he’s meeting my gaze, but I can feel the rage burning off him from across the room.

He must sense that Jasper and I did something, and this night is already hard enough for him, pretending that we’re not involved, but he just looks away in an attempt to mask what can only be described as jealousy.

Unfortunately, I only have a few seconds to process my guilt over Tyson’s feelings before a large man looms over Jasper, a strong familial resemblance coming from the man as he very obviously looks me up and down, his eyes lingering on my chest a few seconds too long for his son’s liking.

“Dad. This is Carter, my girlfriend,” he says, snapping his father’s attention away from my breasts, and finally up to my eyes.

Color me shocked, but I didn’t think Jasper would actually give me a title, especially directly to his father, but I can’t deny the flutters in my belly when the word leaves his lips. I only tossed out the idea to make this evening easier, but now that I’ve heard it, it feels right, like this crazy scenario I got myself into has real meaning.

“Carter, yes, I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to finally meet in person,” he replies coldly, offering his hand out for me to shake.

Up close, Jasper is a spitting image of his father, albeit the grey hair and clear as day stress wrinkles.

Somehow, they have the same icy-silver eyes, too, and I’m left wondering if I’ve stumbled into some strange family cult, or a real life version of Twilight.

If his sisters have the same matching feature, I may make a run for it when nobody's looking.

“Thank you for inviting me into your home, Mr. Masseria. It’s beautiful,” I say, offering my best fake smile to the Don, hoping he doesn’t see right through me.

He’s hard to read, a permanent neutral look plastered on his face, but after what feels like minutes, he turns his attention to Jasper, letting me off the hook.