Page 17 of The Collector

"Is that-- what you're going to do?

Raven gritted his teeth and positioned her across his lap on her stomach. He pulled her pants down to her legs. She wriggled under his scrutiny, her flawless, round ass being bared to him, a genuine reward. He hoped that his hesitation would be as sweet a torment for her as it was for him. He'd waited so long to touch her again that he wanted to enjoy the moment—the sweet bliss of it. But his erection started to press painfully against his zipper. If he didn't do it now and finish it, he might not be able to resist the urge to devour her whole any longer.

Three times he smacked her perfect ass, leaving a perfect imprint of his hand on her cherry red cheeks. He hoped he'd proved his point. He rubbed his hand along the hot handprint, hoping to soothe the pain just a bit before gently pulling up her pants and placing her in the seat beside him. He wanted to hold her and console her. To explain, but now wasn't the time.

As he gently lifted her chin, stunning pools of liquid honey and gold stared back at him, in defiance beneath long, lush lashes."The next time I tell you to do something, you do as I say, or it might be worse. Do we understand one another?"

"Oh, I understand." Mynx pushed his hand from her face and turned away.

Fuck—he was a piece of shit.This was why he'd never find love.His mind danced in a twisted ballet, constantly conflicted with itself. It was dark, and it was painful most of the time; it wasn't romantic.

Who the hell was he kidding?He had so many sides to his personality, his sexuality, he could have been a diamond. Why not? He'd spent his whole life under pressure.He liked the analogy. He'd enjoyed not only making her squirm but leaving his handprint on her ass. Claiming her. Maybe it was his wayof marking his territory. Perhaps he just wanted her to behave. Either way, he'd have to take care of his needs later himself.

Adjusting himself, he stepped out of the car. Maybe she hadn't noticed how he'd been hard as a rock for her. Or perhaps she had. Either option was acceptable to him.

Returning to the front seat, he nodded at Stoker, and the car took off again.

God, she is beautiful.

Leaning back, he closed his eyes. Mynx's scent still clung to him—raw, electric, impossible to forget. When he lifted her off his lap, she gasped. Pain, maybe. Surprise. But beneath it, it was an unmistakable reaction: she'd wanted it and wanted him. He could smell her desire.

The ache in his gut was more than lust—it was hunger, the kind that made men reckless. He breathed in again, slow and deliberate, trying to cage the animal clawing at his ribs.

His phone lit up in his hand. He scrolled past names until he found the one he needed. Shelby.

One more breath. One more taste of Mynx lingering on his skin. Tonight, she'd haunt him. Not just her body. Her defiance. Her need. Her power. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to possess her—or be undone by her.

Pulling up the keyboard, he typed out his message.

"Is her room ready?"

He watched the three bubbles at the bottom of the screen as Shelby typed her response.

"Everything's ready, Rave."

"Good— we are five minutes out. Make sure the other girls make themselves scarce when we bring her in. I don't want to overwhelm her more than she already is."

"Already taken care of that, they all went out for the evening."

"Good, you can head home for the night. I'll call you if I need you. Tell Steven I say hello and kiss the twins for me."

"I will—goodnight, Rave."

Short and sweet, she was probably tired. New performers weren't brought home very often. Raven strived for quality over quantity when it came to the club. The number of people who could afford Blood Lust's prices was limited, so hand-selected performers had become the status quo.

Members had to be thoroughly vetted before they could even get in to catch a glimpse of one of them, and the process took time. Getting the performers comfortable in the new lifestyle also took time.

Most need to be tutored on how to behave appropriately in upper society social situations, learn how to dress, and have their hair and makeup styled, just to be considered by the club's members. These men were paying millions of dollars for contracts that lasted anywhere from one to twenty years. They weren't looking for trailer park Bettys or Bobswith bad makeup and thrifted clothing.

They were looking for class and style to complement the gift-wrapped bodies they covered in luxury and jewels for the duration of the contract. Bodies that, when God created them, made him cry at his own creation of such beauty.

Pulling up to the gate, Stoker faced the camera, letting the laser scan his eye for entrance.

Raven saw the awe on the girl's face as she took in her new home. He heard the mansion boasted the title of largest house in California, but he'd never actually fact-checked it. He was used to the size; he'd lived in it since he was a small child. But he could see how shocking it would be the first time seeing it.

This was the case with most of the performers. They had no clue what to expect when they agreed to come here. There was no advertisement for what happened here, and the first thing everyone had to do was sign an NDA. Business deals were all managed underground. What they first may have thought wasa prison sentence turned into the opportunity of a lifetime. To have the ability to be happy.

When his father requested that he traffic stolen people for profit, he'd offered him a more palatable option in return, as he found the practice barbaric and cruel. Raven couldn't admit that to his father because cruelty ran in the man's veins; he lived for it. Instead, he proposed the idea for Blood Lust and its potential to generate more revenue at a lower cost. All hesaw was dollar signs.