Shattered Dynasty

“It’s more fun that way. I enjoy watching you squirm.”

She steps past me and walks farther into the room. “Basically, you want to keep everything as vague as possible to drive me crazy. I’m so happy I can serve as your source of amusement. It’s an honor, sir.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I really hate you.” She continues to walk toward the bathroom.

“Princess, I don’t care what you think of me.”

She halts and looks over her shoulder at me. “That name isn’t very fitting.”

“And what shall I call you then?”

“Cinderella.”

“Yeah. I think not. No mice. No stepmother. And the most important part? There is no prince in this story.”

“There certainly isn’t.”

Now that her body is facing me again, she boldly meets my stare. “Is there anything I need to know?”

“Be dressed and ready by five.”

“You said after dinner.”

“Yes, but just be ready. I’m not sure where we will be eating.”

“You want me to have dinner with you?” She sounds repulsed by the idea.

“When you put it like that, no.”

“Great. I’m not sure how I would swallow in front of you.”

I quirk up my brow. Does she hear what she says? “Just be ready by five. Better?” I chide.

“Much.”

She slips her shirt over her shoulders, letting it drop on the bathroom tiles. She’s doing this on purpose. It’s obvious. She wants to rile me.

I won’t let her.

But fuck, her tits are bare to me, nipples on alert, pointing right at me. I haven’t eaten all day, and I’m damn near ravenous for her. My dick is on its path to hard, and I just relieved it half an hour ago.

Fuck, this woman is dangerous.

“Anything I should wear?” she asks, fingers drifting down to her skirt.

“Clothes.”

“Welp, since you specified . . .”

I shrug. “You asked.”

“Fine. Clothes. Nice clothes?”

The skirt comes off, pooling around her feet. She’s wearing a thong, just like I imagined. Just like I jerked myself off to. I could be in front of her in three strides, pushing the slip of fabric aside and sinking into her.

I’m so fucking hard at the thought, and I know it’s obvious. But she doesn’t look. Her eyes are level on mine as she waits for my answer.

I give it to her.

“As opposed to rags?”

She lets out an exasperated sigh, tits bouncing at the movement. It’s a lethal game we’re playing. “You know what? Forget I asked.”

“Forgotten.”

I turn my back on her, officially done with this conversation.

“That’s it?”

“Yes,” I say over my shoulder.

“You are infuriating.”

I am.

She isn’t wrong. But everything has a reason, and this one is to drive her insane.

It seems the plan is working.

Unfortunately, so is hers.

She is driving me to the brink of action. Consuming my body with lust. I’m barely holding back each time we’re in the same room.

I need a distraction.

I’m not sure what distraction I can have, seeing as half of my friends are married, but I still decide to go out regardless.

A drink and maybe another woman will take the edge off.

Drink? Yes.

Date? No.

Now I’m in a pissed-off mood and up way too early.

It’s three o’clock in the morning, and I can’t sleep. Normally, I’m up in an hour, but there is no point in sitting here if I’m just going to stare at the damn wall.

I step out of my bed, throw on a pair of sweats, and head to the kitchen.

Not much for middle-of-the-night snacks, but I figure I can eat breakfast now and go for my run a bit earlier than normal.

I’m not even halfway down the hall before I realize someone is in the kitchen.

Sure, I have a large staff and security, but it’s not like them to be here in the middle of the night. Peter, who works the night shift watching the security cameras, would not come in here while on duty to snack.

Now I’m intrigued. I could make my presence known, but something tells me I know exactly who it is, and it will be a lot more fun if she doesn’t know I’m coming.

Or I’m reading way too much into this, and I’m just so sick and twisted, I want to fuck with her. Even if it’s not her I’m about to fuck with.

But it is her.

As soon as I creep into the room, I can see the silhouette of her body. What in the fuck is she wearing? She’s bent over, looking into the fridge, and her ass is practically hanging out.

And what a fine ass it is.

She’s got on these hot pink shorts that don’t come close to covering the bottom of her ass cheeks. I can clearly make out the small of her back, seeing as her barely-there white tank top is cropped.

I should probably walk out of here. The idea of her turning around and giving me full visual access to her nipples through the thin white top drives me crazy. I have no doubt the sight will stay in my mind all day, and I really need to work out, not hop in the shower to beat off to thoughts of her.