Page 2 of Silk and Sirens

He went to protest, but I was already walking towards the adjoining living area with my hips swaying. I was thankful Isaac had splurged on an executive suite, allowing me a moment of privacy as I grabbed the champagne from the ice bucket and two flute glasses.

Making sure I was still alone, I reached into my bra and pulled out a little glass bottle. It was a deep cobalt, faceted like a jewel that caught the low light in sharp, glittering flashes. I’d bought it from a cramped stall in the night market, and it had become one of my favourite possessions. Removing the cork, I tipped the tasteless liquid into his glass.

“There you are,” Isaac growled, his voice a low rumble as he materialised beside me. “Come to bed.”

“Here, finish your drink first.” Handing him the glass, I palmed the bottle and discreetly placed it on the side.

I sipped my champagne as he downed his in one gulp. The glass almost shattered when he placed it roughly on the side, and I froze when it grazed my bottle. But Isaac was already leaning in for my mouth, his mind fixed on one thing. Tilting my head just enough to deny him, I offered my neck instead. His lips latched on immediately, hot and greedy, sucking hard at the pulse point beneath my jaw.

Step by step, I let him guide us back until he dropped down onto the sofa with a low groan, pulling me with him so I straddled his lap once more. His teeth grazed my skin, his beard scratching in a way that reminded me why I preferred my men clean shaven.

I adjusted my legs each side of his hips, my breasts straining the cups of my bra as his erection pulsed between us. “Is this for me?” I reached for his cock, squeezing a little before I brushed my thumb over the slick head.

“Fucking hell,” Isaac muttered, the words scraping out of him as his head fell back against the sofa cushion. “Wait until I tell the guys about this. You’re one fine piece of arse.”

“That’s not part of the deal, baby.” I let him go, only to rise onto my knees so my lips hovered just shy of his. “This is supposed to be a secret. What kind of girl do you think I am?”

“Take off your bra,” he demanded, his tone growing impatient. “I’ve had enough of this teasing.”

“Not yet.” I rocked my hips in a slow, deliberate grind against the hard length trapped beneath me. “Did you tell anyone about us?” I asked, pouting as his hands groped my arse with a strength that was surprising.

Clearly I’d misjudged his weight.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, throat working as he swallowed hard. He shook his head, the motion sluggish.

Thank God.

“No,” he grunted. “I haven’t told a soul. They’d never believe me anyway.”

“Good boy,” I murmured, easing my rhythm to a torturous drag. “Let’s keep it that way.”

Not that I trusted him. But that didn’t matter, because to him I was just another pretty face. One who happened to be at the same pub as him for the last few weeks. Catching his eye, flirting until I clumsily slipped and fell into his arms. And of course I just had to thank him thoroughly for being my hero.

He clearly didn’t remember who I was.

But I remembered who he was.

Threading my fingers deep into his thick hair, my nails raked slow and sharp across his scalp. He shuddered under the touch, but then his brows pinched together, confusion flickering across his face. His mouth opened and then closed like a gasping fish as he tried to swallow, seeming to struggle with the motion.

“Poor baby, is your throat tingling?”

His eyes snapped to mine, pupils already blown wide, panic creeping in at the edges. “Wha … what did you do?” The words came out thick, slurred, tongue heavy in his mouth.

“Oh, just a little toxin found in certain marine animals, something that will keep you still for a while,” I purred into his ear, feeling him tense beneath me. “Now, in small doses one can expect general weakness, hypotension, a somewhat painful slip into a coma … It can be fatal in forty-eight hours if left untreated.”

“Untreated?”

“Hmm. Shame I gave you such a concentrated dose that you won’t last twenty minutes. Just long enough for us to chat.”

His eyes hardened, and then he bucked with a strength that surprised me. “Stu-stupid bitch!” He flipped us, gripping my upper arms, the weight of his body settling over mine. “Do you know who I work for?”

Shit.

His hands trembled violently as he tried to grip my throat, fingers squeezing with the last dregs of strength the toxin hadn’t yet stolen. I drove my knee up hard, straight into his groin. His erection was somehow still going strong, fuelled by rage, adrenaline, or possibly a sheer kink for violence.

Not that I judged, it was never right to yuck someone’s yum. But luckily he howled as I twisted, rolling out from under his weight, only for my head to snap backward as he fisted my wig.

I hissed through clenched teeth, lunging sideways towards the side table where I’d left my bag. My fingers scrambled inside, knocking aside lipstick and cash until they closed around cool glass.