Returning to my clit, he slides a finger inside me. “So tight.” He licks and teases as he eases a second finger to join the first. “My cock may break you, princess.”
“I can take it,” I grit out.
He laughs low and sultry. “And you will. Every hard inch of me until I come inside this sweet little cunt and your debt is paid.”
“Take it then,” I gasp.
“Not yet.” He licks in a leisurely swipe. “This is meant to be savored.”
I moan as he exerts more pressure, his tongue laving my clit as I just try to breathe. When he slips one finger out of me, then slides it lower, I bite my lip. And when he enters me, pressing inside my asshole, I can’t stop myself from moaning.
He keeps licking, moving his fingers in and out as everything inside me folds into smaller and smaller pieces, tightening until I can’t catch my breath.
And when he swipes the broad side of his tongue against my clit in one perfect movement, I shatter. All the folded pieces of me explode outward in a burst of sparks as I come on a low keening moan, my legs shaking, my body unwinding in steady waves of pure delight. And all the while he watches me with those dark eyes behind his mask, eating up my orgasm as if he’s feasting on my soul. Maybe he is. But I don’t care. I’d sell myself again and again if he’d only give me this pleasure each time.
When my lower back finally hits the divan again, he gives me one more long, slow lick before standing. I don’t move, don’t even try to cover myself.
“That was for me, princess. Not you.” He adjusts his thick cock in his black pants.
I shrug. “Put it on my tab.”
His lips twitch as if he might smile, but he doesn’t. Perhaps he doesn’t know how to. Cruelty seems written all over the parts of him I can see. And this arrangement in and of itself is one that only a monster would make.
“Is that what you are? Truly?”
“What?” He moves to the door.
“A monster?”
He stops and turns, his dark eyes still on me. “Without a doubt.”
6
Clark
That wasn’t part of the plan. Not even remotely. Using her body and crushing her innocence are what I’ve paid for, not pleasuring her.
Even so, I enjoyed every moment of it. Her body so responsive. Fuck, the sounds she made are on repeat in my mind, and I don’t want them to stop. Young and foolish, she should be more careful. But her inexperience led her to me, which I can’t fault.
I continue down the hall away from her, though every step makes something inside me tighten. But business and pleasure are separate things, and I have more reasons than one for being at this party.
Crossing through the garden, I return to the main house where the party is even busier. Dozens dance, their bodies swaying to the DJ’s spell. All the pretty rich kids, their Botox-preserved parents, and anyone with connections are here. This may be a party for Tinsley—though I’ve yet to set eyes on her—but it’s more of a bash to celebrate the love of excess. Coming here wasn’t my idea, but Lily and business changed my mind.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I climb to the second floor, push past partiers and drunks, then make my way to the business wing of the Constantine estate. Armed guards man the two huge double doors that lead to the private wing.
I remove my mask as I approach.
They recognize me. How could they not?
With a nod, they swing the doors open for me, and I enter the quieter, but no less posh, section of the estate.
Caroline waltzes toward me, her hair done in a pink fantasy and her dress something off a runway on Mars or perhaps Saturn.
“Clark, darling.” She air kisses and looks me up and down. “If only you’d been around when I was younger.”
“Nice to see you, Caroline.”
She waves a hand. “I’ve already given Winston my comments on this meeting, so I’ll be participating in absentia.”
“Have a good time.” I give her a nod.
“I always do.” She gives me a predatory smile and swans past.
I keep walking past the parlors and bar area, straight into the meeting room.
Winston’s already here talking to someone.
He turns to me. “Clark, about fucking time.”
“I was occupied.”
“With what?” Winston asks.
“I was eating a delicious cunt, if you must know.” I stare at him.
He nods. “Fair enough. Clark, this is Sebastian Lindstrom. Sebastian, this is Clark Evergreen.”
Sebastian gives me a cold stare, one I return. “I know you by reputation, of course, Mr. Evergreen.”
He’s younger by a few years, I would guess. His eyes sharp, his intelligence sparkling. But there’s also something different about him. Something that’s … off.
Winston clears his throat. “Long story short, Lindstrom is selling us one of their companies, but I wanted you here to make sure it doesn’t cause a conflict.”
“What conflict?” I itch to get back to my little princess, her taste still lingering on my tongue.
“I’m selling an aeronautics venture.” Sebastian speaks in measured tones, which tell of an exacting and particular mind.
“Will it be in competition with Eastern Air?” I get to the point.
“Only on trips between New York and DC.” Winston says, playing it casual. “But there’s plenty of demand and room in the market for both of us.”
He’s a shark. So am I. And Sebastian Lindstrom? I can’t get a bead on him, but he’s a predator.
I peer at Lindstrom. “Why are you selling?”
“My wife said something about the carbon imprint and rainforests.” He shrugs. “That was enough for me to get rid of it.”
“Your wife must be something special.” I raise a brow, shocked that he’s married.
“Camille is everything I’m not.” He smiles with the only warmth I’ve seen him offer. “The only woman I’ve ever preferred all in one piece.”
Holy shit.
“Then we’re agreed.” Winston hurriedly pours drinks.
“This could’ve been a phone call,” I chide.
“Nonsense, Evergreen.” Winston hands me a glass, then one to Sebastian. “We also need to discuss the antiquities issue.”
Now that is something we can’t discuss over the phone. Primarily based on its highly illegal and unethical nature.
“I’ll leave you gentleman to it.” Sebastian downs his drink mechanically, then leaves the room.
“Odd guy,” I say.
“That’s putting it mildly.” Winston pours another drink. “But he’s a fucking genius when it comes to business. Like you.” He leans against the bar. “Now, tell me more about this delicious pussy you were sampling.”
“No, thank you. The antiquities?”
“A ruse. I just wanted to hear what society kitten caught your eye.” Winston isn’t known for joking. In fact, he’s often more severe than I am, which is saying something. That’s why we’re friendly. Cut from the same misanthropic cloth.
“Just a toy. Nothing serious.” I finish my drink.