Page 82 of Corrupted Pleasure

I’d never do it, but she didn’t need to know that. Besides, she got lucky that night in my club and no such recording existed. She wasn’t that lucky in Chicago, but I’d keep that to myself. For now.

I watched the delicate skin of her throat bob with her swallow. I could already picture thrusting into her throat

“B-but…” She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling. An attractive blush crept up her neck.

I took advantage of her loss for words. “We will make our arrangement legal,” I said. “We’ve already established that you will submit to me. Whenever I say. Wherever I say. Now, I legally want to make you - and your pussy - mine.”

“That is the craziest fucking thing I ever heard,” she snapped. “My pussy is mine. Just as your cock is yours. You can’t claim shit like that.”

“Oh no, Davina. That’s where you’re wrong,” I purred. “My cock is yours. It belongs in your pussy.” Then I grinned. “Correction, my pussy.”

“This is ridiculous,” she scoffed and her mouth pursed, feigning indignation.

A shiver that worked its way down her spine didn’t escape me. I fucking loved how she got aroused with my filthy words. Corrupting her would be the highlight of my life. And I didn’t lie. She was my manna. My fucking heaven.

“You fighting me and our attraction is ridiculous,” I told her.

Davina’s grandfather was in a facility, and the only reason I could think she needed money was for him. Yet, it didn’t fit the bill. The million she stole from me should be adequate enough to settle any kind of bills she had. Maybe the four girls had some crazy idea and splitting it four ways, it didn’t cover their needs.

Whatever the fuck it could be, I couldn’t even fathom. But I would uncover it, one way or another.

She straightened her shoulders and met my gaze head on. “I guess jail it is,” she said stubbornly, her voice shaking. “Because I’m not marrying you. However, I will miss the sex.”

The girl had some balls, I’d give her that.

“I might just let you go to jail to serve your time, baby,” I drawled, locking eyes with her and watching her like a hawk. “But the Italians won’t.”

Game. Set. Match.

My little thief didn’t realize I never gave up.

Surprise flashed in her eyes. Yes, this girl was an open book.

“Italians?” she asked in a tentative voice.

“I know the four of you were in Chicago.” Her soft gasp filled the room. “Tell me, was it you or Wynter who played poker? I know it wasn’t Juliette. She’s lousy at math. And from what I understand, Ivy is not much better at games.”

Davina’s lips thinned. Her cheeks heated and the guilt in her eyes was admission enough.

“You’re not a good liar,” I mused

“I didn’t say anything,” she gritted.

“You don’t have to,” I drawled. “Just remember this, Davina. They recognized you. They’ll go after your family.” The Italians had no scruples. While in my own organization we stuck to some code, the Italians under Gio and Franco DiLustro would go after anyone and everyone connected to Davina. “They’ll go after your grandfather, no matter his age.” She stiffened. Good, finally I was getting somewhere with her. “Your parents.”

A vulnerability flashed in her eyes and she bit into her bottom lip. Fuck, I didn’t like seeing her upset. The reasonable part of me knew I didn’t need more trouble. But for the first time in my life, reason didn’t do shit for me. It zeroed in on her and wouldn’t let go. And the idea of her hurt or under the Italians made me crazy.

Besides, I had decided she was mine already.

My father had been nagging me about it for decades. Fuck it, I’d finally make him happy. Though for completely selfish reasons. To own her and to keep my family protected.

“I’ll protect you and your grandfather,” I promised her. “One way to ensure I can do that is to put a ring on your finger.”

Well, my father would be proud. Entrapping my wife by any means necessary. Except for me, it was her or nobody else. No alternatives. She was the one for me. The added benefit was keeping my family safe. Appeasing my father was just an afterthought.

“What am I supposed to tell Juliette?” she challenged, her voice shaking. Her voice sounded bitter. “About marrying you. She won’t like it.”

“Lie to her,” I told her with a shrug. “You have no qualms about lying to me.”