Page 2 of A Sixpence For Your Shoe (Revenge Brides #6)

CHAPTER TWO

Vincent

I get the feeling she’s playing with me and I’m rather enjoying it. Usually when people meet me, they are scared, over polite, cautious. She isn’t any of those things.

Since the moment I set my eyes on her at the restaurant, I’ve been enamored, even before the incident with the other customer. I was watching her all night.

This girl is special. She is unique in ways I’ve not been able to work out yet. There is something about her that just grabbed me right from the start.

It’s like I know her from somewhere, but I also know I’ve never seen her before because that is not something I would have forgotten.

I can’t tear my eyes away from her as she saunters around the penthouse, admiring my art pieces and the view. Her cute little waitress uniform is enough to make me want to bend her over the back of the sofa and slap that tight little ass of hers.

Misha throws me a mischievous look. Her black hair is pulled up into a high bun, and her pale green eyes are full of secrets.

I can tell she’s interested in having some fun.

Even though she warned me when she got into my car.

The way she holds herself demands respect.

She might come from the working-class ranks, but this girl belongs in a castle.

My castle.

I want her as my pet.

And I always get what I want so in no time at all - I will have her.

“I go to the Helique Restaurant often. I’ve never seen you there before.”

“That’s because I’ve only worked there for a week, just over.” She shrugs.

“I see. I doubt the manager is going to give you a good letter of recommendation.” I chuckle and she smirks, enjoying my dark sense of humor.

“I don’t need his letter. I’ll figure it out myself. I always have.”

“Is it just you?” I ask, walking towards where she is standing, admiring the view at the opening of the wide glass doors that lead out onto the balcony.

“Me and my mother.”

“Where’s your father?”

She eyes me up and down, deciding if she is going to answer or not.

“He had a bit of an accident many years ago.” She answers calmly. “He’s not with us anymore.”

If I am reading her correctly, I’d say she isn’t missing him at all. I wonder what happened. I also wonder why it is that this girl makes me want to know everything about her.

As I step close to her, I brush my hand down her slender back, letting it rest for a moment against her body, right at the curve above her ass. She doesn’t push me away and I sense the heat building between us.

“How’s your whisky, Misha?” I ask, eyeing her closely.

She turns her body towards me and lets her eyes drag up and down my height. “It’s perfectly dark, a hint of fire and strong enough to make me shudder.”

“You like dark - don’t you?” I smile.

“I enjoy strength. And those who know how to control it.” Her eyes are bright like an ocean siren, luring me to my death.

“I know all about control, little pet.” I say with a low growl in my voice.

She raises her one brow at me and sets her drink down on the side table.

My cock stirs as I move closer to her, my fingers slowly wrapping around her slender throat. My hand engulfing her neck as though she was a twig. I could snap with the flick of my wrist.

She doesn’t flinch, but her smile grows wider.

Oh - this is going to be a lot of fun.

Pulling her by her throat, I drag her away from the balcony and push her back against the wall. She grabs me around my waist and pulls me tight against her body as I lean down, pressing my lips against hers.

She slips her hand beneath my shirt, letting her warm fingertips trace over the curve of my hip.

As our lips move over each other, she lets out a little snarl and digs her nails deep into my skin. I flinch in surprise.

She wants to fight me.

She wants to play.

I pull back and set a sharp slap across her cheek. “Behave or I will make this hurt.” I warn her. Her lip’s part and her eyes glitter with fierce excitement.

She bites her lip and digs her fingers deeper into my side.

I’m being too nice.

She’s encouraged me to let my real desires come out and play, and she might regret that.

Misha stands up on her tiptoes and kisses me, but then bites my lower lip so hard I taste blood.

That’s it.

I’ve let her get away with too much.

With my hand still wrapped around her throat, I practically throw her over the back of the sofa. She squeals loudly, a genuine fright that sends a thrill through me.

As she tries to push herself off the sofa and stand up, I arrive behind her and shove her face down, her ass bent over the backrest.

“Wait.” She gasps as I drag her skirt up over her hips.

“It’s too late for that, my little pet.” I whisper darkly.

“I was just playing.” She whimpers.

“So am I.” I smirk, tugging my belt open and unzipping my pants. “Don’t you like this game anymore?”

She looks over her shoulder at me and her eyes grow wide.

But I don’t see fear. All I see is lust.

I thread my fingers around Misha’s little lace thong and rip it from her body.

She cries out and tries to wiggle away from me again, but I have my hand locked onto her hip and my cock pressing against her soaked pussy.

“You shouldn’t start a game you didn’t want to play, little pet.” I warn her as I rub my cock over her.

To my surprise, she giggles, then kicks out with one leg, “Who says I don’t want to play.” She slips away from me, rolling over the sofa and onto the white shaggy carpet.

She is crawling on her hands and knees, trying to escape me. But as she glances back, I am already behind her.

I move quickly, grabbing her legs from behind. I spread them wide and press my body over hers.

She tries to squirm, but she’s pinned to the floor, my body locking her face down on the soft rug. My cock is hard and throbbing against her pussy. I press my hand against the side of her face, pushing her onto the floor.

When she giggles, it practically throws me over the edge.

I slam my cock into her.

She gasps in shock and the sound is so satisfying that I do it again. I pull back and thrust into her with more force.

Misha cries out and digs her fingers into the fluffy carpet, arching her ass upwards as I fuck her harder.

Her tiny little pussy is locked onto my cock and its fucking perfection as I plunge into her over and over again.

Her moans are enticing. Little sounds of desperation and pleasure.

The sound of someone letting go of their own control and handing it to me.

I wrap my hand around her throat and pull her head up so that her back is arched. I slide out of her and pull her onto her knees, sitting backwards on my lap. I lower her down onto my cock and bounce her up and down on top of me.

The harder I fuck her, the harder I squeeze my fingers around her throat. Her hair falls loose from the tie and floats over her shoulders in long silky shadows of pitch black. She is gorgeous.

She gags slightly and leans her head back against me.

“Are you going to be a good little pet for me?” I growl against her ear, and she nods.

I release my fingers from her throat and push her onto her hands and knees. Slipping my hand between her legs, I play my thumb over her clit while I fuck her.

She rocks against me, her legs starting to shake.

My cock thrusting deep inside her until her entire body goes rigid and her little pussy pulses over me in wave after wave of pleasure as her orgasm floods through her.

I thrust into her again and explode inside her.

Fuck.

That was incredible.

I slide my cock out of her and stand up. She sits on her knees, brushing her fingers through her hair and looking up at me with those gorgeous pale green eyes, and I realize who she reminds me of. Someone who died a long time ago. Someone I don’t want to be thinking about. Ever.

The memory shocks me and sends a thrill bolting through me.

I turn away from her for a moment to hide my expression.

The memory that took me by surprise. When I turn back, Misha smiles.

Her cheeks flushed and her lips pink. Sitting on her knees in front of me like that - she is making my cock stir again.

I lean down and wrap my fingers around her jaw.

“Come little pet. I’ll top up your drink.”

She stands up and for some reason, I can’t stop myself. I pull her close and kiss her.

It’s not like me. I usually just fuck them and tell them to leave. Not even that. Because usually I fuck them in a hotel and then I leave before they’ve even put their clothes back on.

But they are not like her . They don’t grab my attention. And they certainly don’t hold on to it.

Misha and I sit on the sofa together, talking late into the night. It feels natural.

She gives me minimal details about who she is, skirting around solid facts - I get the sense that it’s because she doesn’t trust people. She tells me about her mother and her life and how she struggles to hold a job down.

I tease her that it’s because she’s too feisty.

But I like her being feisty. I like the crazy streak in her that makes her throw boiling oil over people who piss her off.

“It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’ll find something else. It’s just lame that most people expect you to work for practically no money but give up your whole life and your dignity.” She rolls her eyes and tips the last of her whisky into her mouth, licking her lips.

“Come to bed.” I demand.

“I should get going.” She shakes her head. “It’s late.”

“You should do as you’re told. I’ll take you home tomorrow. Now take off your clothes and come to bed.” My cock throbs, hardening against my pants.

Misha stands up and slowly starts stripping out of her waitress uniform until she is naked in front of me.

She’s beyond beautiful. The image of perfection.

She throws me a sly smile and walks off into the penthouse to find my bedroom. I follow her. Knowing it is going to be an incredible night.