Page 34 of Entwined Lies (Entwined #1)

“Later,” I said, tightly, because if I said anything else, it was going to come out as a groan, and I refused to give him the satisfaction.

But he didn’t move. Just stood there. Soaking in the moment like he had all the time in the world.

Meanwhile, Isabelle was on her knees, her mouth warm and wet around my cock, drooling as I held her head down.

Every part of me was screaming to move, to bury myself deeper, but I held back. Barely.

My jaw locked. Hands clenched. Muscles burning with the effort it took not to snap. Adrenaline pulsed hard through me, a violent drumbeat under my skin.

Parker finally gave a lazy wave and stepped out, leaving me right there, half-mad with restraint, one breath from losing it.

Isabelle began to move, shifting away as if the performance was over.

No fucking way. I wasn’t letting her go.

My hand was already gripping the back of her head, and I kept her exactly where I wanted her, pushing her back down.

“Oh no, baby, you’re not fucking done yet,” I growled, pushing deeper. “You keep going until I’ve come, and you’ll swallow it all like a good girl.”

Her response was instant, her tongue working me as her head started bobbing in a quick pace.

The thrill of the danger, the tension, and the way she submitted to me so perfectly all crashed together, sending a rush through me that I couldn’t stop. Then came the sound of her choking—raw and desperate—and it was my undoing.

“Fuck—eyes on me,” I growled. “I want to see you take it.”

She pulled back just enough, her stare hit mine, and I lost it, coming hard in her mouth, my grip on her hair loosening as I shuddered .

She swallowed, then dragged her thumb across her lips. That smile? Cocky, radiant, almost cruel.

“What the fuck was that? You just kept going, taking me all in… Fuck, Siren—I nearly came right then and there.” I sounded half-wrecked, half-angry. I was both.

“You didn’t tell me to stop; instead, you pushed my head down.” She tilted her head. “And, you know, if you stop, it’s awkward for you. If you keep going, it’s awkward for the person walking in on you.”

“Tell you to stop? I could barely form a coherent sentence,” I ran a hand through my hair, still trying to process the absolute chaos I’d just survived. “I was trying not to come down your throat while that asshole kept talking. But you? You kept sucking like a fucking tease.”

Isabelle’s smug smile didn’t waver.

“You sure didn’t hesitate to fuck my mouth the second we were alone. Now look at you—relaxed. Smug. Meanwhile, I need a cold shower and a prayer.” She stood, and her voice dropped to a sultry whisper. “So instead of whining, start thinking about how you’re gonna make it up to me.”

“She has a point, you really did finish… And I just finished realizing I should’ve muted myself ages ago.” Reid’s voice in my ear cut through the tension like a bucket of cold water.

For a split second, I froze, the realization hitting me. Of course, Reid was still on the line. Everyone was.

“Yeah? Enjoyed the show?” I tried to keep my cool despite the absurdity of the situation.

“Oh, you have no idea. But I need a stiff drink after that… and a priest to cleanse my soul.”

Isabelle groaned and buried her face in her hands. “God. I swear, if the floor doesn’t eat me alive in the next five seconds, I’m going to actually lose it.”

A low chuckle escaped me as I shook my head, pulling up my zipper and buttoning my slacks.

“Relax. We got the job done,” I muttered, more to myself than to anyone else.

I buckled my belt with a shrug, trying not to look as wrecked as I felt, and smoothed down my shirt like it could erase the last ten minutes.

I walked out of the library, looking as composed as possible. Not that there was much dignity left to salvage after what just happened. Parker had been seconds away from getting a front-row seat to the most inappropriate live performance ever.

Yeah, that’s gonna take some time to forget.

“You have to stay a bit longer; leaving before dinner would raise suspicion.”

I clenched my jaw, trying to bury the frustration. Reid, of course, had to be right at the most inconvenient moments. We couldn’t risk drawing more attention—not when we were this close. My whole body itched for payback, for something.

I forced a slow breath, dragging my gaze over the room to ground myself. One wrong move, and we’d all go down.

And that’s when I saw him. Viktor Ivanov.

Hard to miss—like a loaded weapon left on a dinner table.

Stocky, with a face as if it had been hit by a truck and decided to stay that way, crooked nose and all.

His salt-and-pepper beard was neatly trimmed, like he’d spent an hour in the mirror perfecting that ‘I’m dangerous but still classy’ vibe.

It was almost cute, in a sociopathic kind of way.

His tailored suit fit him perfectly, dark blue against the silver streaks in his hair.

And his smile? Cocky as hell, as if he knew a secret the rest of us were too dumb to catch on to.

It was the kind of confidence that only comes with either a brilliant plan or an enormous ego. Guess we’d find out which soon enough.

I turned to Isabelle, her eyes locked on me with that sharp, curious look she always got when she sensed something was about to happen. Smart girl—she could read me like a damn book.

“Looks like we’ll be staying a bit longer. Let’s make the most of it.”

She gave me a small nod, but there was a flicker of relief that I caught.

It was quick. Almost nothing. But something in it didn’t sit right.

I watched her, brow furrowed, trying to pin it down. But before I could say a word, she threw me a smile. A breezy little thing—fake as hell.

“I’ll be right back. Just freshening up.”

Then she turned, already halfway across the room before I could find my voice.

She disappeared into the hallway, but my brain wouldn’t let it go.

Isabelle never lets her guard down. Not in situations like this. So, what the hell was she relieved about?

“Keep an eye on her,” I muttered, knowing Reid had me covered.

“Already on it.”

Reid was calm as ever. Which was a good thing, considering I was two seconds away from marching into the ladies’ room like some possessive caveman.

“But you might want to keep your own eyes peeled,” he added, his tone shifting. “Ivanov’s looking a little too interested in your girl.”

Of course, he was. Because nothing in this night was going to be easy.

I shifted my focus back to the crowd.

Ivanov was still holding court, all polished charm, surrounded by a pack of glossy socialites who probably thought adversity meant getting the wrong shade of foundation.

But every so often, his eyes flicked toward the hallway where Isabelle had disappeared .

Subtle. But not subtle enough.

The bastard was definitely keeping tabs on her, and I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

I forced myself to keep my cool, but the thought of Ivanov’s beady eyes following her around like a wolf circling its prey made my blood simmer. I needed to get my feelings under control before I gave in to the urge to make sure he never looked at her again.