Page 22

Cradling a glass of whiskey in my hand, I stood on the deck of the luxurious yacht, my eyes sweeping across the horizon. The air was filled with the faint scent of saltwater and the distant cry of seagulls squealing overhead.

A gentle breeze rustled my hair, carrying the faint hint of coconut sunscreen and the distant thrum of the yacht’s engines. Dressed in a crisp white linen shirt and a pair of dark gray pants, I stood with a couple of my business associates, all dressed in similar outfits.

Our conversation was hushed, with occasional laughs and light chuckles. I squinted my eyes at the warm sunlight that danced across my chiseled features, my gaze drinking in the surrounding environment.

I was here for one reason: Clarice Evelyn.

My sources informed me that she was going to be at this elaborate yacht party, and here I was, waiting. Perhaps my obsession with her had escalated since I watched her play with herself, calling out my name.

Until now, her breathy moans still echoed in my head, and I hadn’t been able to stop replaying that scene over and over again. Clarice was mine, and I would do anything to make sure that she understood that as a fact. She had unlocked something in me, and now it was almost like my heart only beat for her and her alone.

My eyes roamed the yacht itself, a majestic sight with a sleek, white hull that sliced through the turquoise water with ease. A sparse scattering of lounge chairs and umbrellas perched on the deck, polished to a high shine. Impeccably dressed guests found shelter and comfort under the umbrellas, drinking in the breathtaking views.

The deck resonated with the upbeat rhythm of a DJ’s mix, enticing the guests to move to the beat. Waiters and waitresses glided through the crowd, trays of champagne and canapés expertly balanced in their hands.

Peals of laughter punctuated the air as a small cluster of girls reveled in the music.

I sipped my whisky, buried my hand in my pocket, and gazed out at the horizon. Before me, the ocean stretched like an endless expanse of blue silk, the waves rolling in gently, their crests blown off in a misty spray.

Up ahead, I sighted the faint outline of a distant island, its towering trees and lush greenery swaying in the wind.

I lifted the glass to my lips and took another sip, my mind occupied with thoughts of Clarice. She was here somewhere; it was only a matter of time before we crossed paths, and my heart wouldn’t stop racing with anticipation.

“Hello, handsome,” a familiar voice spoke from behind me.

I recognized that tone—its femininity—and my face contorted into a small frown. She was the last person I was expecting to run into, yet here we were. With a slightly clenched jaw, I turned around to face her, my expression blank.

“Joanna,” I called softly, taking another sip.

“Why the long face, honey? Aren't you glad to see me?” She raised her brows, a teasing grin playing on her lips.

“Not exactly,” came my blunt response.

Unfazed by my harshness, Joanna chuckled and slipped her hand around my neck, her green eyes locked on mine. “I see you haven’t changed one bit.” She beamed, flashing me a warm smile. “You should try it sometime. Might be good for you.” She wagged her eyebrows.

Joanna was a woman that I used to date—nothing serious, just two people having sex with no strings attached. She’d known my rules back then, and she stuck to them. No stopping by unannounced, no emotional involvement of any kind, just sex. Nothing else.

I broke things up with her when I got bored. It wasn’t her fault—she didn’t break any of my rules. I just grew tired of the whole thing and called it off. Joanna wasn’t mad. She was a little disappointed, but that was it.

“Like the new look?” She tilted her head sideways, showing off her red hair.

Joanna used to be a brunette, but I guessed she decided to try something new. It wasn’t at all bad, but I was uninterested. Her see-through dress revealed her matching bra and underpants, momentarily drawing my attention.

My eyes darted across her sexy body for a while before I returned my gaze to her face, blank.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked, her voice dropping to a low, husky whisper.

Without a word, I gently took her hands off my neck and lowered my head, my gaze dropping to my phone’s screen. Alex had sent me an update on Clarice, and before I could scan through it, I glanced up, only to spot her across the crowd.

Her beautiful smile melted my heart as I watched her skin shimmer in the sunlight. She was surrounded by a few folks—male and female—their conversations soft and distant. Her hazelnut-brown hair cascaded in loose waves over her shoulders. Clarice wore a fitted emerald green dress with a daring slit that revealed glimpses of her alluring thighs as she moved.

So elegant. So graceful. So gorgeous.

I couldn’t bring myself to tear my gaze off her, and soon, the flutter in my chest transformed into something more sinister. A scowl settled on my face, and my jaw clenched as I watched one of the boys around her whisper in her ear.

My blood boiled with anger at the fact that she was giggling at whatever the fuck he was saying to her. A fire ignited in me, and I balled a fist, my scowl deepening. It infuriated me how close she was to him and how his arm casually grazed against hers.

Why the fuck was she smiling at him? What was he telling her?

My eyes blazed with fury as I thought of the many different ways to end that bastard’s wretched life. How dare he get so close to my Clarice? She was mine, and he’d pay for crossing a line with her.

In a heartbeat, while she looked around the deck, Clarice’s eyes locked on mine across the space. I watched her smile gradually fade away, and a brief solemnity perched on her face. She glared at me for a moment before shifting her gaze to the woman beside me—Joanna. A glint of something that could be mistaken for jealousy flashed across her face, and she rolled her eyes, looking away.

A fleeting moment of comfort washed over me, and my lips curled into a faint, self-satisfied smirk. That was jealousy on her face. I was almost certain. However, Clarice did have her own plans to get back at me.

I could feel Joanna’s gaze lingering, and when I looked at her, I caught a smile spreading across her face. “What?” I growled.

“Nothing.” She threw up her hands in a defensive motion, her faint grin retained.

The background music shifted to a much slower rhythm, and the crowd of youngsters cheered, each grabbing a partner and moving to the dance floor. My gaze never left Clarice, watching her stand on her own until that godforsaken son of a gun strolled over to her.

She beamed at him, her eyes sparking with mirth as he took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

I stood there, seething in silence, my anger simmering beneath the surface. My eyes blazed with fury as I watched him place his hands on her waist, and she melted into him. I set my glass of whiskey on a nearby table and balled both hands into fists, my eyes meeting hers across the space.

Her lips curled into a mocking smirk, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing his hands to roam her body. She raised her head upward as if basking in the feeling of his face being mere inches from her neck.

She was doing this on purpose to spite me. And although this was nothing but an attempt to get under my skin, it didn’t piss me off any less.

The young man’s hand slid down to her hips, guiding the movement of her waist to the rhythm of the music.

“That’s it. You're done,” I hissed, my jaw tightening as I strode over to the dance floor.

With all that anger surging through my veins like electricity, I grabbed the young man’s hand from behind and pulled him back away from her. The force was so powerful that he stumbled backward and almost missed a step.

“What the hell, man?!” he snapped, arms spread apart as he glared at me. “What’s your problem?”

“Raz, stop,” Clarice said softly, her voice laced with warning.

I ignored her, my blazing eyes falling on the brave, young fellow, interested in finding out just how brave he was. Without a word, I took a few menacing steps forward, my imposing height towering over him. I watched his expression soften slightly, a glint of fear dancing in his eyes.

The music stopped, the party froze, and I could feel the gazes of the bystanders on me. Nonetheless, I didn’t give a shit.

“What’s the matter, young hero? Cat’s got your tongue?” I growled, the intensity of my glare causing him to cringe.

I enjoyed the fear flickering in his gaze, the way his initial arrogance was quickly replaced with humility and terror. I could send him straight to hell with just a single strike, and I believed he knew that to be a fact. Judging by the way he looked at me, he clearly realized that I wasn’t a man he wanted to mess with.

“Raziel, that’s enough!” Clarice swooped in and saved the fucker’s ass. She grabbed me by the wrist, her eyes darting across the faces in the crowd. “You’re embarrassing me,” she added under her breath, her grip tightening around my wrist.

I hesitated for a moment, my intimidating gaze never leaving the man’s face until I felt Clarice’s pull. Literally, she dragged me away from the dance floor, easing the crowd of the tension that hovered over the area.

As we retreated, the DJ’s music played again, and the crowd cheered like nothing had happened—or almost happened.

I followed her below deck, my wrist in her hold as she led me away from the noise and prying eyes. Her footsteps were hasty, her heels clicking against the wooden floor while in motion. Soon, she reached a door, grabbed the handle, yanked it open, and pulled me inside.

Clarice shut the door behind her, the music and noise now distant and muffled. This was a secluded lounge with dim lighting adorned with some plush couches and sofas. The sweet scent of liquor wafted from the mini bar in the corner. Just by the entrance wall was a sleek wooden table with a bottle of wine and a tray of cookies perched on it.

Clarice turned to look at me, a scowl settling on her face. “What is wrong with you?” she demanded, her voice low and laced with venom.

“Don’t try to turn this around. You were the one dancing with a stranger,” I said, my eyes pinned on her.

Her brows shot up in disbelief, and a scoff escaped her lips. “So fucking what? You don’t own me!” she hissed, her tone dripped with defiance. “I’m free to dance and be with whoever I want.” She dared to step closer, her eyes never leaving mine. “You, Raziel Tarasov, need to understand that I am not one of your silly whores. I’m not bound to you. I can do whatever I want with whoever I want, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” The words tumbled out of her with a deliberate slowness, each one sinking in and striking a nerve.

The air was thick with tension, her spunk and defiance both annoying and intriguing at the same time. I stood still, listening and watching her in silence. Beneath all that rage in her tone was something else—frustration—and I knew exactly what it was about.

A self-satisfied grin played on my lips, and a sense of calm washed over me. I had her in my palms now; she didn’t realize it, but I did.

Her breath was shallow, and her body shuddered subtly. Her eyes betrayed her composure because, despite the rage she showed off, something more sensual lurked within. I could see it—that raw, undeniable desire.

“You still think about it, don’t you?” I asked, my voice tinged with a hint of conviction.

Her brows knitted together in confusion as her eyes squinted. “Excuse me?”

“That night,” I began, taking gentle steps forward, my gaze fixated on her face so I wouldn’t miss even the slightest change in her expression. “The way I kissed you…held you…licked you…. You still think about that night, don’t you?” With each pause, I drew closer to her, watching her chest rise and fall with slow breaths.

Clarice held my gaze, her eyes blinking and her lips quivering like she’d caught a cold. She withdrew from me, stumbling back a few steps.

I continued, reveling in her helplessness. “You say all these things about being with whoever you want, yet the real person you want…is me.” My words stole her breath, and I watched as her eyes widened slightly, like she realized she’d been caught.

Her backside met with the edge of the table, and the bottle towering on it lost its balance, shaking for a second.

“I made a woman out of you, and now, you can’t stop thinking about me,” I added, my voice low and husky, my eyes boring into hers. “You can’t get enough, and deep down…” I extended my hand, brushing the back of it along her smooth arm, “…deep down, you know that none of those boys can make you feel the way I made you feel.” My eyes dropped to her cleavage, the tantalizing glimpse of her voluptuous curves enticing me.

Clarice’s body shook like a leaf. She stared back at me, speechless. Her eyes burned with undeniable desire, and she clenched her jaw, trying to mask it.

“No one else can spoil you the way that I can.” I dared to slide my hand down, my fingertips teasing her thighs.

“You’re…you're wrong,” she muttered, her voice weak and barely above a whisper as she steeled herself at my touch.

“Am I?” I asked, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. “I know what you did the other day when you thought no one was watching.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and a mix of shock and embarrassment flickered in her gaze.

My lips curled into a smile as I watched the unpleasant surprise on her face. I leaned toward the next ear and whispered softly, “It was interesting watching you orgasm with my name on your lips.” Upon my revelation, my hand traveled up her thigh and settled on her soaked underpants.

An unplanned moan—soft and sweet—tumbled out of her mouth, and I pulled back to catch the expression on her face. Clarice was helpless against my charm, too weak to resist my touch. Her eyes simmered with passion, yet she couldn’t tear her gaze from mine. Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe she was glued, unable to move. Whatever the case, Clarice was at my mercy.

She stared into my eyes, gripping the edge of the table behind her with both hands. The tip of my fingers grazed the fabric of her underpants, teasing her entrance.

“You naughty little devil,” I whispered, enjoying the look on her face as she struggled to suppress her moans. “You’re wet already. You’re wet for Daddy.” I slipped one finger underneath her panties and slid it up her slippery cunt.

A soft, enticing gasp came forth, and she bit her lower lip, her body slightly arching towards me. “Raziel, please…” she begged with almost a whisper, her grip tightening on the edge of the table.

“Please, what?” I asked with the same tone, daring to slip that finger inside her wetness.

“Oh, fuck,” she mouthed, too weak to produce a sound.

“You want me, don’t you?” I asked, delicately fingering her pussy, watching as her face scrunched up in ecstasy.

“Raziel…” she called, moaning.

“Answer the question,” I said, a hint of authority creeping into my tone.

She moaned a little louder as I pushed the finger further inside her.

“Answer the question,” I repeated, sliding in another finger, and her super wet pussy swallowed them both.

“Fuck! Raziel, you’re torturing me,” she said amidst a soft purr.

I slid my other hand behind her and grabbed a handful of her hair, tugging it down so her head jerked upward. “You wanted to get laid the minute you saw me,” I began, looking right into her eyes, my breath fanning against her skin while I fingered her pussy. “That’s why you tried to make me jealous. That’s why you brought us to this place, away from everyone else.”

She stared at me, breathing heavily with a heaving chest as her legs parted, allowing me better access to her cunt. This action was reflexive, a subconscious move made by her body in response to my touch.

“Deep down, you know you want me inside you again. Admit it,” I said, my voice husky and challenging.

She hesitated, her muscles relaxing, giving way to the passion coursing through her blood. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Yes, what?” I demanded, my gaze boring into hers.

She swallowed, shuddering with quivering lips. “Yes, I want you inside me again,” she finally admitted.

My lips curved into a smirk, and we stared at each other, our hearts racing with anticipation. Seconds later, we rushed at each other’s lips, devouring them with intense fervor.

As I lifted her onto the table, the force and the rapid movement of our bodies sent the bottle crashing to the floor. Engrossed in the heat of passion, we ignored the crash, and the contents spilled over the floor.

High on ecstasy, Clarice’s hand swept the tray of cookies off the table, her lips locked on mine. Tongues twirled in our mouths, and our heads tilted to the flow of the passion coursing through us like lightning.

Her hands roamed my body, and mine squeezed her breast while the other wrapped around her waist. I pulled her closer, and her legs spread apart, my groin against hers. With a swift yet delicate tug, I pulled aside the fabric that concealed her breasts, exposing her gentle swells.

My lips left hers, and I kissed down her neck to her chest. There, I sucked on her right breast while fondling the other. Her hands struggled with the buttons of my shirt, and the moment the top four were undone, she slid her hand inside. Her soft palms caressed my broad torso as she moaned quietly at the feeling of my tongue on her nipple.

She grabbed me by the belt, and I straightened, watching her adjust on the table as she unbuckled my belt. Clarice unzipped my pants, dipped her hand inside my boxers, and withdrew my shaft.

Her lips crashed against mine in a second while she stroked my length, positioning it outside her entrance. Lost in a sea of passion, she broke the kiss and stared deeply into my eyes. Clarice moved my cap up and down her cunt in a teasing gesture, her body writhing in ecstasy.

I pulled closer, and she spread out her legs, her pussy accepting and swallowing my cock. A sweet gasp escaped her lips, and I gave her breast a gentle squeeze as I pushed my dick inside her.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” she murmured like a starving woman, her arms around my back.

My waist ground against hers, my cock traveling deeper and deeper inside her. She raked her fingers against my back, her legs trembling in the air, as I slammed into her pussy like a wounded beast

Under her weight, the table creaked loudly, blending with the sounds of our thick grunts. I thrust into her with relentless strokes, a testament to how badly I’d wanted her this entire time. The table’s noise, coupled with our groans, was enough to indicate to anyone outside the door what was happening inside.

However, neither of us gave a shit. We’d both been starving for a while, and now that we finally gave in to our lust and desire, we didn’t mind bringing the whole damn yacht down.

I quickened my pace, plunging faster and harder as I drove vigorously into her cunt.

“Yes! Yes!” she moaned, locking her feet around my waist.

Our bodies collided as this intense flame of ecstasy threatened to consume us both. With her breasts pressed against my chest and my hands grabbing her ass from the back, I penetrated her entrance with hard thrusts. She wrapped her arms around me, clinging to me as if seeking deeper contact.

I pulled my head back, and upon the slightest chance, Clarice rushed at my lips. She sealed my mouth with a kiss so hot, so fervent, that it had me growling like a beast.

She unlocked her feet around my waist and spread her legs. Her body jerked and trembled at the rhythm of my relentless strokes. My legs shuddered as a spark, a jolt of electricity, surged through my body, prompting a primal growl.

Her face, scrunched up in ecstasy, fueled my desire, fast-tracking my arrival by mere seconds. With a swift motion, I pulled out of her cunt, spraying my load on the floor.

Out of air, we gasped, staring at each other with slowly heaving chests. The room fell silent as tension between us eased by the second, replaced by something more relaxing.

My hand flew upward, fingers caressing the loose hair that framed her exhausted face, dotted with sweat. There was no way in hell that I was ever going to let Clarice be with someone else. She was mine, and that was a fact.