Page 1 of Sworn to the Enemy

Serafina

USA.

Four years ago…

“For your challenge, Sarah, I dare you to go flirt with that guy.” Mia’s voice drones into my subconscious.

“Uh?” I say, staring in confusion at the three of my friends who have had a little too much to drink while I’ve been wallowing.

If you aren’t going to drink, well then, that’s your challenge. He's been staring at you all night. I suppose it won't be too much of a challenge?”

Guilt washes over me for refusing their offer to drink at every turn.

Of all the things I can do, drinking isn’t one of them.

I’m never able to get alcohol down in my stomach, not even a little quantity.

It’s why I always steer clear of it whenever we’re out, nursing my coke in silence while the girls do their thing.

Besides, I’d been thinking I wouldn’t be here with them tonight if I hadn’t decided to stop being wary by my father’s present, yet non-present influence.

Only two days ago did I call him to get the man always subtly trailing me off my back.

The girls would laugh if they knew that I, and by extension, them, had been shadowed all this time.

Even now, I glance around to make sure he’s not lurking. Lucky for me, he isn’t.

“Sarah? Adelaide chirps.

“What guy?” I say, already craning my neck to catch a view. The other girls twist their necks too.

I don’t have to look further because I see the man immediately.

He’s looking straight at me, and I suck in my stomach, my breath dying in my lungs at the intensity of those black eyes on me.

His gaze is probing, unraveling me in places that had been dormant for too long.

In that moment, the world falls away, the noises around slowly ebbing until it’s just the two of us.

Jesus. The man is striking.

He’s dressed in a black tailored suit that molds his perfect frame. Even from where I sit, I can see the bulging muscles underneath his clothing. He's sitting lazily, head above others, cross-legged, arms across his broad chest as his eyes burrow intently into mine.

I mentally shiver.

The low hum starts from low in my belly, vibrating through me until it’s wrapped around me. Goosebumps race across my skin, all nerve endings standing on edge as this man practically undresses me with his eyes.

“Hello!” Mia snaps her fingers at me, jolting me out of the spell I’d fallen into.

The noises resume around me, and I look at my friends in a daze. Then suddenly, I remember where I am. A breath whooshes out of me as I’d held it in for too long.

“Uh-oh. Sarah is taken. Fuck me,” Rose says, her voice throaty.

My eyes slither back to the man who's still looking at me.

For a moment, I entertain the thought that he's another of my father's devises to guard me.

But this man with the brooding and intense stare would never in a million years pass for a bodyguard.

He exudes a dark aura that's both appealing and a bit frightening.

Suddenly, I find myself wanting to know what makes him tick.

“Oh, shit, she's standing up,” Adelaide mumbles.

Whoops. I didn’t even realize that.

I hear Rose’s reverent whisper of “make it count”, before my ears go deaf to the sounds around me.

I walk towards him like a lady on a mission, placing one foot solidly before the other. My steps don't falter. I don't stop to mull. I just simply walk, until I'm standing right there in front of him. This up close, I'm nearly keeling over from tension that has my body wrung tight.

I wrestle with the compulsion to stay and see this through. What about him has me taking on a silly challenge? He’s striking, yes, but I’ve seen my fair share of sexy-as-sin men. I let my eyes remain on his face, my resolve firmly in place.

His eyes lazily trace up my form until it rests once again on my face. God. I squirm under the intensity of his stare.

“You've been staring at me.” My voice is a choked whisper that barely makes it past my lips. My throat is parched. He hasn't even touched me, and yet, here I am, reduced to a complete idiot.

A half smile forms on his face, drawing attention to the fullness of his lips. The man is dynamite. What would it do to me if he turns the full effect of his smile on me? I'd give anything to have him kiss me till I'm holding on to him for dear life.

He uncrosses his legs to part strong, powerful thighs, their muscles rippling beneath his black pants. It boosts my confidence. I step into his space, my legs almost making contact with his thighs.

“Why were you staring?”

This time, he sits straight in his chair, and I'm looking right into the bottomless pit of dark eyes.

My breath snags. His gaze is unreadable, but I catch the lust simmering in it.

My legs are properly encased in his now.

If I take just one step, my knees are going to buckle, and I'm going to fall straight into his lap.

I let my eyes roam over his face. His black hair is slicked back, highlighting strong features— a sharp jawline, a distinctive nose. His brow is bushy, and I see a scar running lightly over one eyebrow. It only adds more to his appeal.

God.

If Michelangelo had tried to sculpt this man, he'd have failed woefully. He is literal perfection.

“Because I want to fuck you.” His voice is so deep, it rumbles through my stomach. Is that an accent I spot?

I blink at him, not quite hearing what he'd said.

“I want to fuck you,” he says again. He stands up, and I'm forced to take a step back. Now, he's towering over me. I look up the length of his taut stomach, his hard chest, to his face. Those eyes. My stomach clenches in response.

I lick my lips. I'd heard him right. He wants to fuck me.

Such straightforwardness. On another man's lips, I'd find it crude, and even now, I'd be running the other way. But on this man's sensuous lips, it sounds like an intriguing promise, something anticipatory. For the life of me, I can’t fathom why I’d be anticipating a stranger’s touch.

And I find myself looking forward to the pleasure this man can give me with his hands and mouth. With his cock. For tonight, I want to be wild and naughty. I want to let go of control.

Fuck playing it safe.

I step into him again until I'm up against his chest, standing on the tip of my heels, my head stretched to hold his stare. My whole body is on fire for this man.

“Let's go,” I say.

A sound wrests out of him. It sounds suspiciously like laughter.

Is he laughing at me?

Heat suffuses my cheeks in mortification. I start to step back, but he grabs my arm and pulls me to him, his grip rough, yet tender.

“This is going to be a night you will never forget.” His voice is gravelly, but it carries the weight of the desire he feels. It scrapes on my sensitive skin, making me shiver mentally.

I smile up at him, my eyes twinkling as relief courses through me. We're still on. I fall in step beside him, his hand still gripping tightly as I let him lead me outside. I spare a quick glance to the girls where they sit with their mouths agape, their expressions priceless.

Wordlessly, I follow the man whose name I don't know, and frankly don't care to know out of the bar. The earlier drizzle has cleared and is now replaced by cloudy skies. American weather at it again. I shiver momentarily and burrow into my coat.

I follow him into the luxury hotel beside the bar and into the elevator, my tongue still stuck on the roof of my mouth.

The elevator opens up to a carpeted hallway, and he leads me up to a room.

With frayed nerves, I watch as he inserted a key card into the keyhole and as soon as the door clangs open, I'm ushered in.

The moment the door closes behind us, I'm swept into a smoldering kiss. My softness to the hard contours of his body. Our tongues clash in a war for dominance. I melt into him, letting him take the lead.

His arms go around me as he deepens the kiss. My hands roam over his face, the back of his neck. His tongue twirls in my mouth, pulling mine into a dance of frenzy. I couldn't be closer. I want to meld into him, into the hotness of his mouth as he claims me.

Fuzzily, I register him pulling off my coat. I shrug out of it, my lips still locked to his. His palm splays across my back, the heat shooting through the thin material of my clothing. I moan into his mouth.

“Così sensuale.”

I barely catch his Italian. My hands are busy trailing up his neck to his hair. It's coarse, yet velvety and I'm lost in its texture. He anchors me slightly away from him. He sucks my lower lip into his mouth before releasing it with a plop.

I'm panting and he's breathing hard as he moves back to run his gaze over me. I squirm under the intensity of his gaze.

“Take off your dress.” It's a command. One I hurriedly pay obeisance to.

My hands tremble as I pull my shirt off over my head. I'm left standing in my black bra and my jeans. His eyes are smoldering as they take in my nude form.

“Take them off.” His voice is gruff.

I unbutton my jeans, and hooking my thumbs into the top side, I pull it down and kick it off my feet.

Now, I'm only standing in my black panties and bra.

His eyes are hot and encouraging as they trail my body.

I pause for an infinitesimal moment before I wiggle out of my panties.

In the same breath, I hook my hands behind my back to unhook my bra.

His dark eyes glint as they rove over my naked form. I fight the urge to shield my body from his appraisal. I stand there as his eyes trail across my skin, leaving fire in their wake.

He prowls slowly towards me. I stand, rooted to the spot as he approaches.

His eyes are twin pools of lust, burning with hunger and desire.

It makes my skin prickle, my core ache. My body is abuzz with delicious fire.

He stops a few feet before me, and I look up at him, my breath catching in my throat.