Page 20 of The Final Contract (The Black Ledger Billionaires #5)

T he door slams shut behind us, echoing off the tile. The air is thick—perfume and powder from the women who just fled—but all I smell is her.

She tries to stand tall, chin lifted, like she’s in control.

My laugh is sharp, humorless. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”

She blinks at me, feigning innocence. “What are you talking about?”

I crowd her back against the counter, planting my hands on either side of her hips. No space. No air. Just me pressing in until she has nowhere left to go.

“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about.” My voice is low, dangerous, meant for her alone. “Walking out on my men. Letting him put his hands on you. Pretending this was about him.”

Her lips curve, the smallest, smug smile. “Wasn’t it?”

“Bullshit.” I lean in, so close my mouth brushes her ear. “This wasn’t about Hall. This was about me. You wanted me to see it. To feel it.”

Her lashes flutter, but her tone stays cool. “You’re imagining things.”

I tip my head, study her, then pull my phone from my pocket and shove it in her face. The video glows between us—grainy club footage. Not her. Me. The stalker zooming in closer and closer while I watched her across the room.

“That’s what you’re calling imagination?” I snarl. “He was in the club tonight. Filming me, because he knows I’m the wall between him and you. And you ran off like some teenager rebelling against her parents.”

She stiffens, but her chin doesn’t drop. Always stubborn—and God if I don’t want to fucking break it.

I lean in, mouth ghosting along her jaw, my words a growl against her skin. “Say it, Seraphina. Admit it.”

She shakes her head, playing dumb. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Fine. If she won’t use her mouth for the truth, I’ll make her body speak it for her.

I drag one hand down her side, slow, deliberate. Her breath catches, but she keeps her eyes fixed on mine, defiant. My palm curves over her thigh, thumb pressing the hem of her dress higher until I’m sliding beneath.

She stiffens. “Don’t?—”

“You don’t want me to stop.” My voice is quiet, razor-sharp. “You want me to prove you’re a liar.”

My fingers find her panties, damp silk clinging to her. I press against her, feel the heat. She presses back, a small sound breaking in her throat.

“You’re wet,” I murmur. “But not for him.”

“Yes,” she snaps back, chin high. “For him.”

I smirk. “Liar.”

I push under the band, thick finger sliding through her hot cunt. She ignites instantly, her hips betraying her even as she glares at me.

“Stop pretending,” I rasp, circling her clit, working her fast enough to have her panting. “Your body already knows who it’s for.”

Her hand fists in the front of my shirt—not pulling me closer, not pushing me away. Just holding on like she can’t decide which lie to tell.

I play her mercilessly, pressure building tight in her. She moans, sharp, then bites her lip to smother it.

She’s close. I feel it in the way she trembles, the way her hips buck for more.

And just before she can fall, I pull back.

Her eyes fly open, blazing. “Killian?—”

I smile, slow, cruel. Slide my hand down her thigh like I never touched her. “Not until you admit it.”

“Admit what?” Her voice is ragged.

“That you wanted me. That all of this—” my fingers press into her again, teasing, withdrawing “—was never about Hall. It was about getting me to break.”

She shakes her head, stubborn, breathless. “No.”

I plunge back between her legs, working her hard and fast. Her moans echo in the tiled room, raw and helpless.

And again, just before she tips over, I stop.

She’s shaking now, furious, desperate, lips parted like she’ll scream.

I lean in, mouth brushing her ear. “You’ll say it, angel. Sooner or later. Because I’ll keep you right here, begging and dripping, until you do.”

I drag my mouth up the column of her throat, tasting sweat and champagne. When I reach the soft place beneath her jaw, I suck hard enough to mark her. I want anyone to see she can’t belong to them.

My fingers work her faster, deeper, until she cries out, arching her back, one leg kicking wide to give me more.

“Killian—” she gasps, voice breaking.

Her head tips back, lips parted, eyes wild. “Someone could see,” she warns, a desperate whisper.

I grin against her skin. “Let them. Make your peace with God now, angel. Because when I’m done, you’ll be screaming my name while you come on my hand.”

Her breath stutters, her hips grinding down onto my fingers, and I know she wants it. I can feel her unraveling, feel the truth in the slick heat soaking my hand. My mouth hovers over hers, so close we’re breathing the same air.

She teeters, right there at the edge—and she calls it out. “Yes—yes, it’s you. I wanted you.”

That’s all it takes.

I crush my mouth to hers, swallowing her confession. My tongue drives into her, ruthless, claiming, erasing any trace of that bastard Hall she let near her tonight.

She shatters. Loud. Her cries ricochet off the marble walls as her pussy clenches around my fingers like a vise. She grinds against my hand, holding me there, milking every ounce of her release while I keep her pinned to the counter.

“That’s it,” I rasp against her lips, still working her with relentless precision. “Make a mess on my hand like a good little slut. So wet for me you can’t fucking lie anymore.”

Her nails dig into my shoulders. She sobs out another moan, thighs trembling.

“Not him,” I snarl, curling my fingers deep, rubbing her clit mercilessly. “Never him. Only me. Say it.”

Her voice is broken, wrecked. “Yes, you.”

And Christ, I fucking love it. Love the sound of it. Love the way her body bows under me, surrendering while she spills over my hand again and again, until she can barely stand.

Her cries fade, and before she can catch her breath, I spin her around. Her palms smack the counter, catching her weight. Lust still burns in those deep blue eyes, her chest heaving, skin flushed.

I’m quick—too quick for her to protest. I shove her dress higher, drag my knife free, hook it under the band of her panties. One sharp pull and the silk gives, the sound of tearing fabric echoing in the tiled room. I tug them from between her legs, damp and ruined, before sliding the blade away.

Her panties are soaked. My fist tightens around them, and I lift them to my face. Breathe her in.

Fucking heaven.

I slide them into the inside pocket of my jacket like I’ve claimed a prize, then grip the firm globes of her ass.

“Such a bad girl,” I murmur, kneading her cheeks. Pulling them apart, appreciating her tight asshole, waxed and smooth, begging to be filled. “Running from me.”

Her mouth opens, ready to argue—so I pull my hand back and bring it down hard. The sharp crack fills the room.

She gasps, eyes flying wide, arousal sparking hotter through the surprise.

I massage her again, rough, filling my palms with her. Watching her face in the mirror. “When are you going to learn, angel? The only safe place for you… is with me.”

Another smack. Her body jerks, but the sound that leaves her throat isn’t pain—it’s a whimper, hungry and desperate.

I reach around, finding her clit, throbbing and slick. She cries out as I spank her again, my fingers circling ruthlessly.

“Tell me what you want,” I growl against her ear.

“You,” she gasps, pressing back into me.

Another smack. “Be specific. Use your words.”

Her voice fractures. “I want your cock. I want it deep. Hard. Until I can’t breathe.”

“That’s my good girl.” I pinch her clit between two fingers, precise and punishing. She rises to her toes, body bowing, mouth open in a cry that shatters into moans as she comes again—harder this time, wrecked, surrendering everything to me.

When she collapses against the counter, I turn her back to face me. Her dress is still hiked high. One of my hands grips her reddened ass, squeezing until she flinches, the heat of my strikes burning beneath my palm.

The other stays between her legs, her cum running down my palm, dripping down her thighs.

Oh, fuck. She’s a juicy little killer. And I want every drop of her pleasure to belong to me.

“You’re going to go to the limo,” I tell her, voice steady, leaving no room for doubt. “You’re going to sit like a good girl. No panties. Soaking the seat for me while I take you home. And if you behave, I’ll eat that sweet pussy of yours all night.”

Her lips part, trembling—ready to answer—but I don’t let her.

I grab her chin and crash my mouth to hers first, taking what I want. The kiss is brutal, consuming, my tongue forcing past her lips and claiming every sound she tries to make.

When I finally tear my mouth from hers, I tighten my grip on her ass until she flinches. My voice is a growl against her swollen lips.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” she whispers, wrecked. “I’ll be good.”

The corner of my mouth curves slow, dangerous. Like she just signed her soul over to the devil.

I lift my fingers—wet with her—and slide them into my mouth. Suck them clean with a low moan. “Mmm. Not bad.” I tease her.

Her eyes flash, anger sparking through the haze of pleasure, but I don’t let it grow. I open the bathroom door, ushering her out with a hand on her back as she hurries to pull her dress down.

She climbs into the limo first. I follow. Then Finn. Then the guard who came running earlier. The other sits in the front with Felix.

I lean back, watching her knees clamp together, knowing why. Freshly fucked on my hand, ass burning from my strikes, her panties still warm in my pocket.

She thinks she played her little game tonight. Thinks Barrett Hall meant something.

But when we get home, I’m going to make damn sure she forgets every touch but mine.

Every single one.