Page 51 of Handsome Devil

I said nothing.

“What have you done now?”

I just smirked. She didn’t really expect me to confide in her, did she?

“Well, no.” She stepped back, shaking her head. “Out of the question. I will not be babysat.”

“Which part of the conversation made you think this was up for discussion?” My brows furrowed in confusion.

“The part where as an independent woman, I will not revert back to the Middle Ages because you cocked up a deal.”

“You’re free to do whatever you want,” I said calmly. “With the exception of dying in the hands of mobsters to prove a point. See, I don’t like it when a business partner fucks me over. And as far as our transaction goes, you’re currently pounding into me lube-less.”

“Of course it’s all monetary for you,” she muttered.

She snatched her purse from the floor, turned around, and charged back to the door.

I had no choice but to clasp her by the waist and jerk her to me. Her ass collided with my crotch. A low growl escaped me. I was already hard just from talking to her. Now I was ramrodstraight, throbbing and lightheaded with lack of blood flow to my brain.

She tried to wiggle out of my touch and run to the door. I tightened my hold on her, my cock pressed between her lovely ass cheeks through our clothes.

“Now, now, Apricity. I’d strongly advise you stop squirming before my cock bursts out on its own accord and gives your ass the spanking it truly deserves,” I whispered into the shell of her ear.

She froze, every muscle in her body stiffening.

I did not like scaring her.

The realization slammed into me like a freight train.

I usually took great pleasure at terrifying people.

But I needed her attention, and if that meant scaring her a little so she’d understand the graveness of the situation, so be it.

My arms circled her waist and shoulders, blocking her from escaping. I could feel her heart pounding through the fabric of her dress fast and hard.

“I hate you,” she whispered.

“Your tight nipples against my forearms are telling me a different story.”

“I’m scared and in shock. That doesn’t mean I fancy you.”

“But you do fancy me.” My hand slipped from her waist and along her inner thigh, traveling up and dipping under her skirt. My thumb caressed her skin. “I bet if I dip my fingers into your pussy, I’ll find it wet and ready for me,” I croaked into her ear.

She shivered with anger and pleasure. She was too proud to say no. And I was too much of a fuckup to give up this opportunity.

“Hmm?” I hummed into the side of her neck, breathing her in. “Yes or no? Should we test the theory that you’re attracted to me?”

“Sure,” she croaked, trying to appear casual. “Your scare tactics never worked on me.”

I had to bite the hem of her blouse to suppress a moan as my fingers traveled up her thighs. I wasn’t going to show her how much I craved this. Not when my balls were already tight, my cock twitchy, leaking precum.

I grazed her satin underwear, slipped my index finger into her, and found her hot and dripping for me. So warm. So soft. Her hips bucked instinctively, searching for more.

My eyes rolled inside their sockets. It took everything in me to leisurely remove my finger from her tight pussy, raising it to her lips, clinging to my composure. “Why don’t you taste for yourself and tell me what you think?”

I dipped my juice-coated finger into her mouth. Her pretty lips wrapped around it, her mouth hot and inviting, and I shuddered, pushing another finger into her mouth, filling it while imagining it was my cock.

She bit my finger until she hit bone, then pressed on, drawing more and more blood.