Page 29 of Devil's Claim

Four times as the round of ecstasy swept into a second.

Was he going for a third?

Kruz clenched his jaw and I knew he was close. With three final thrusts, he released. Just watching his expression as he slowly tilted his head toward the ceiling was like indulging in a prize fight.

I loved every second of it.

And just like that, he slipped free of the wetness, the twinkle in his eyes as much of a draw as everything else about him.

As I smoothed down the wrinkled dress, he shoved his cock into his pants and disappeared, leaving me to continue trembling all the way to my toes.

I laughed, finally turning toward the wall so I wouldn’t be heard. A full two minutes later and finally in control of myself, I changed back into my cheap but comfortable dress, taking the one that engaged with me in carnal activity out to the store floor where Kruz was waiting in a chair.

Just like the king I knew he believed himself to be.

“What about the dress?” I asked, holding it up in front of me as I’d done so many times before.

With four of the clerks watching, he rose to his feet. All six and a half feet of him. He came closer, whisking his finger under my chin. “Not this one. I believe it’s soiled.”

CHAPTER 8

Kruz

There was nothing like fucking a beautiful woman.

Especially one who responded the way Christine had since the beginning.

“Boss. Did you hear me?”

Sighing, I chuckled to myself as I tried to narrow my thoughts so I could concentrate. “I heard you, Benito.”

“We’re in position, boss,” Benito said.

As soon as I stepped onto the aggregate, I scanned the entire perimeter. “If you see any sign of Fassi, let me know. Otherwise, keep an eye on every guest. We still don’t know the full extent of who he’s playing with.”

“Yeah, I know. The guest list is a who’s who of Miami society.”

That was true enough. If the horrifically expensive sports cars and sedans were any indication, every member of the rich andfamous had been invited to the party. “A lure for Fassi.” The man had suffered with the loss of his diamonds, but if the latest intel was correct, he was prepared to resurface. “Perhaps he’s learned the art of finesse.”

The elusive Ms. Cordello had gone all out with hiring several valets. I tossed the young man my keys as he approached before heading to the other side of the Ferrari, opening Christine’s door. Just catching sight of her long legs as she stepped from the vehicle was enough to remind me why tasting her again wasn’t a good idea.

I could get lost on those legs.

She was stunning, the dress I’d insisted on purchasing absolutely dazzling on her.

One of many that I’d required her to try on again. The impromptu fashion show had been incredible. Now my cock was aching just thinking about the earlier round of fucking. I could get used to the feel of her pussy muscles clamping around my dick.

Christine glanced at me and smoothed down the front of the body-hugging material, as if she needed to wipe away the wrinkles. There were none. The dress had been made for her. Even the way she’d wore her hair in a loose bun was sexy as hell. Her expression matched mine.

One of pure, unadulterated sin.

“Fassi?” Benito snorted. “He’s like a bull in a china shop, boss.”

Yes, he was. The Moroccan had yet to learn that controlling people often involved more subtle gestures than blood and violence. Granted, the Torres regime was based on wieldingpower with guns, muscle, and threats, but over the years, other methods had proven just as effective.

Although I wouldn’t hesitate to drive a bullet into Fassi’s brain if I was afforded the opportunity.

“Incidentally, the package you ordered will be delivered later tonight.”