Page 20

I lounged on the cream-colored leather couch in my VIP lounge as soft, golden lighting cast a warm glow over the room. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey and that of a half-smoked Cuban cigar.

In my hands, I held a slim state-of-the-art tablet, its screen glowing with soft, blue light. My eyes scanned the display, a faint smile twitching on the corners of my lips as I wore a thoughtful expression.

I reached for the bottle of whiskey towering on the low table in front of me and, with an expert move, poured myself a glass. Clutching the tumbler between my fingers, I raised it to my lips and took a sip, my eyes never leaving the glowing screen.

The decorative box I’d sent to her house days ago was adorned with something other than intricate carvings and fancy ribbons. It was a low blow to add such a minute yet privacy-invading chip to the gift box. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself.

Besides, I did it to make sure that I had eyes on her at all times. That way, I’d know if anyone should try to come after her. At least, that was what I told myself to help ease the guilt.

Planting a hidden micro camera and a mic in the gift box I’d sent to her was a little extreme, even for me. But it was useless crying over spilled milk; the deed was done already. Whatever the box’s camera caught was displayed on my screen, and right now, the mini microphone had picked up a movement in her room.

The door opened, and the camera caught her walking into the room, her fingers rubbing her eyes. Clarice shed her jacket and draped it over the nearest hanger. She took her shoes off, and on bare feet, she strolled further in, her expression distant and her movements thoughtful.

I took another sip from my glass, my eyes fixed on the glowing screen. I watched her waltz over to the bed and sit on the edge, oblivious to my eyes on her. She cupped her face in her palms and let out a deep breath.

My eyes squinted as I continued to watch her. She seemed exhausted—bothered about something. Whatever was running through her mind appeared to have been weighing her down.

I stroked my chin absently, my gaze pinned on the beautiful woman on my screen. Clarice lifted her head and looked in the direction of the gift box. The camera captured her eyes, and for a moment there, I thought she met my gaze, except she had no idea that I was watching.

Or did she?

Clarice rose to her feet and strolled over to the box. Through the earbuds plugged in, I heard the faint rustle of her movement as she lifted the decorative box and just stared at it.

The room was silent, her voice absent, but her eyes held me captive. Clarice had no idea that she was gazing right into the camera and essentially right into my eyes. I couldn’t read her expression at first until a small grin played on her lips.

I wondered what had prompted such an angelic smile that brightened her face, but her grin was somehow contagious. Again, I took another sip from my glass.

She carried the box and walked over to a shelf where she gently placed it, her smile still retained. For a woman who was keen on avoiding me, she sure had a funny way of showing it when she was alone.

Her claims of wanting to stay away from me were nothing but an act to hide how she truly felt. Clarice wanted me as much as I wanted her, but the difference between us was that she was too afraid to act on her feelings—at least in public.

For some reason, I couldn’t shake the thought that she was up to something funny—something that would be worth watching. My lips curled into a smile, my gaze fixed on the screen as I anticipated what she would do next.

However, before I could get too comfortable, the door opened, and Alex walked in with my brother Daniel, together with a handful of my men. Their subtle intrusion caused my face to contort into a faint scowl, my eyes leaving the screen to settle on them.

“Hello, brother,” Daniel greeted me, sliding onto the couch across from mine, his brown eyes pinned on my face.

The small smirk on his lips hinted that he was aware of the discomfort their presence had caused. But as usual, my easy-going younger brother didn’t give a shit.

He picked up the bottle of whiskey, grabbed an empty tumbler on the table, and poured himself a drink. “Why the long face? Did we interrupt something?” he teased, his eyes darting to my tablet.

Alex took a seat beside Daniel, and the others secured the perimeter, their sharp eyes scanning the room.

“Heard you got shot at,” Daniel said, reclining on the couch, his legs crossed and the tumbler cradled in his hand. “How’re you holding up?”

“The sniper missed my head. Wrong move,” I replied, my voice calm and collected as I took another sip from my glass.

“Well, I say we find that fucker and show them how to take a damn shot without missing,” he said, smoothing back his dark hair. “Don’t you think so, Alex?” Daniel glanced in his direction.

“Absolutely,” he answered, meeting my brother’s gaze. “We’re working on that.”

“My gut tells me this attack is tied to Damon Barlow—that sick fuck is clearly out for revenge.” Daniel chuckled, his tone mild but sinister. “If he doesn’t tread carefully, he’ll meet his maker a lot quicker than he’ll get out of that hospital.”

Of the two of us, Daniel was the easy-going one, the one with the sense of humor. But as charming and vibrant as he could be, he was just as dangerous. My brother’s cruelty was on another level—he’d torture his victims and drag them to hell while making a joke.

Unpopular opinion: Daniel was worse than I was. This was simply because, unlike me, the man could mask his fury with tricky laughter that always deceived his enemies. More often than not, they’d misunderstand his laughter and lower their guard, and when they’d least expect it, he’d strike.

It was almost impossible to tell when he was happy or furious, and that made him very dangerous.

Daniel might have laughed when he joked about sending Barlow to meet his maker. But I knew my brother; he was fucking serious.

As Daniel and Alex discussed ways to find out who was behind the shooting, I found myself drifting away from the conversation. My eyes would occasionally dart to my tablet’s glowing screen as I struggled with my divided attention.

However, as the conversation went on, a soft, unexpected sound filtered through my earbuds. It was a sharp intake of breath, and it stole my attention, forcing my eyes back to the screen. At first, I wasn’t exactly sure what I heard until I saw her fondling her breast in front of the camera.

The conversation around me faded into the background as I heard the unmistakable sound of her soft purrs—a low, throaty moan that echoed in my head. My pulse quickened, and my eyes stayed fixed on her, watching her take off her top.

Without a word, I flipped the screen downward and rose to my feet, striding out of the lounge.

“Hey, where’re you going?” Daniel called after me, his voice laced with surprise and a glint of curiosity.

I ignored him, left the lounge, and found solace in the privacy of a nearby room. Once inside, I shut the door and settled on a couch. By the time I returned my gaze to the screen, she was already naked, sprawled on her bed, her head tipped back. I watched Clarice’s hands explore her body with reckless abandon, and my grip on the tablet tightened.

I couldn’t tear my gaze off the screen, and I could feel my cock swelling in my pants. I froze, my chest heaving as I watched her slide her hand down between her legs. Her face contorted in pleasure, and she bit her lower lip while her free hand caressed her breasts.

A dark possessiveness swelled up within me, accentuating my desire. Clarice was mine whether she realized it or not. That body was mine. I owned her; she fucking belonged to me.

I set the tablet on a low table in front of me, unbuttoning my pants. With a quick move, I undid my zipper and withdrew my hard cock. Her sweet moans were music to my ears, and I found myself stroking my shaft as a wave of pleasure coursed through my veins.

She stared at the gift box while playing with herself, her body arching, her legs spread apart. I fixed my gaze on her, imagining that I was the one fingering her pussy. Clarice moaned, bucking her hips like she couldn’t get enough. Her hand covered her mouth, and her palm rubbed rapidly over her clit. Her muffled moans still sounded so erotic and pleasing to my ears.

Clarice stimulated her clit so hard and fast that her fingers grasped the sheets, and a loud moan fell from her lips. She shut her eyes, basking in the pleasure coursing through her like jolts of electricity.

Then the unexpected happened—she said my name.

“Raz—oh, Raz…!” she moaned, her back arching higher.

My brows shot up in disbelief, and I paused for a moment to be sure that I heard her correctly. She called out to me again, this time with a much softer tone.

“Raz…yes…! Raz…Raz… Raz….” Her voice grew a little louder each time she said my name.

The sound of my name on her lips was so sexy, and the louder she moaned, the faster I stroked my cock. I watched her legs tremble, and her body stiffened for a moment. Her mouth was shaped like an “O,” but no sound came forth, and her eyes rolled backward. She was climaxing; I could tell.

“Yes, Clarice, yes!” I muttered, stroking my cock so hard that my body quivered. My eyes never left the screen as I didn’t want to miss anything—not even the slightest expression or movement.

She quickened her movement over her clit, and soon a long, dragged moan escaped her lips. “Fuuuuccccckkkkk…Raz, yes…!” Her body shuddered, and her legs trembled as she writhed against the sheets.

She just had an orgasm with my name on her lips. What could be hotter than that?

I watched her back slump against the bed, and she lay there, spent, exhausted and gasping for breath. The room fell silent except for the faint sounds of her heavy breaths. Watching her relax, I smeared my pre-cum over my cock, unsatisfied, but I’d make do with this experience.

My lips curled into a broad grin as I realized now just how much she wanted me. Clarice’s energy matched mine, and we clearly wanted to taste each other again.

My expression darkened ever so slightly, and I made up my mind that the next time we crossed paths, I wouldn’t leave without possessing that body.

She was starving. I was starving. It was high time we stopped torturing each other and just satisfied our cravings.

One thing was certain: The next time I saw her, I’d devour her like a hungry lion, and I wouldn’t hold back.