Devil's Contract

That word is bugging me this morning. We’ve always been connected—by our fathers, by The Whitney, by our shared pasts—but this is something new. I felt the first flickers of it yesterday behind the bar of The Rooftop, and it grew a little stronger every time she came for me last night… and then a little more when she didn’t kick me out of bed.

Sure, she argued a bit, but I’d expected the feisty princess to put up a much bigger fight than a weak wiggle and telling me I couldn’t sleep in her bed. Fuck, I’d been prepared for her to flip out over fucking someone as beneath her as me—but she didn’t. She settled against my chest exactly like she is right now, with the scent of her shampoo lingering in her hair and some other soft, feminine smell on her sheets. Lotion or perfume or something like that mixed with… Katja.

If Z was here, he’d be calling me out on my obsession with her. He’d call me an idiot, mock me for taking deep inhales of her hair and pillow, and he’d probably hit me over the head for thinking I can have anything with Katja Belov that doesn’t involve outright extortion.

And he’d probably be right.

I just can’t shake the way she looked at me last night, or the goddamn sounds she made. It was better than I’d ever fantasized, and while I’ve seen her effortlessly spin lies at fancy parties—I don’t think she’s that good of an actress. Maybe all the fucking money and effort I’ve poured into The Whitney has finally opened her eyes about me. Made her see me as more than the low-life criminal she’s painted me to be. Maybe she’s even accepting the necessity of my business?

Maybe even accepting me?

It’s not the first time the thought has wormed its way into my brain since I came back to the hotel, but I’ve always shut it down. Today though… today could be different. Because of last night. Because we’re both different now. Because I’ve proven that I give a shit about The Whitney… and her.

Taking a deep breath, I decide to start small as I drag my thumb in small circles over her stomach, pulling her back from the edge of sleep. She huffs and tries to hide her face from the light, and I find myself smiling.

“Wake up, princess. I want to take you to breakfast downstairs,” I whisper, kissing the shell of her ear.

“No,” she grumbles. “Let’s just get room service and sleep while we wait for it to come.” Her voice is husky, and my smile widens at the fact that my Sleeping Beauty is so resistant to waking up with the sun.

“Nope. We’re going to get dressed and eat downstairs. It’ll be good for the staff to see us dine together anyway,” I say, running my fingertips along her hip, trying to ignore my hard cock that’s demanding a repeat of last night despite my mind’s alternate plans.

She rolls onto her back so she can look at me while squinting against the light. “Why?”

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but putting the staff in the middle of our little war hasn’t been very effective for morale. This will be good for The Whitney, and I’m hungry.”

“Good for The Whitney,” she repeats, and I can’t tell if the wrinkle between her brows is still due to the morning sun or if she doesn’t believe me anymore than I do.

“Yeah. Do you have a problem eating breakfast with me downstairs?” I press, feeling my empty stomach clench.

“They’ll gossip,” she says, a pink glow rising in her cheeks.

I chuckle. “Trust me. They already are.”

“They shouldn’t, and we shouldn’t encourage it. It’s none of their business what happens between you and me.”

I laugh again. “Our business is their business, and you know it. Since I moved into the penthouse, most already assume we’re a couple, or at the very least that we’re fucking.”

“Which we haven’t been.”

“Until last night,” I correct, tracing the pouty curve of her bottom lip as I fight against the urge to take her mouth—and then taste her nipples, followed by her sweet pussy, just to hear her come again so she’s soaking wet when I bury my cock inside her. Christ, her eyes have that same sultry glaze to them that made her impossible to resist last night and I give in. To the kiss, anyway, but tasting her mouth is fucking dangerous. That sinful little mewl has my dick aching with need, and I know just how easy it would be to shove her thighs apart and fuck her until she screams my name again… but I already know how good the sex is between us.

This morning is about something else, and I want to see if she’ll jump through the hoop.

“Time to get up.” It’s not easy to break the kiss but forcing out the words helps even though I catch her wicked little grin as I lean up beside her. I’m about to ask her about it when I feel her fingers wrap around my shaft and squeeze.

“Seems like you’re already up,” she teases, gliding her fist up and down my length in a move that’s guaranteed to shut my brain down in seconds—so I grab her wrist.

“Nice try, but I said it’s time to get up, and I meant it.” Using the hold on her wrist, I flip Katja onto her stomach and shove the sheets back to land a spank on her perfect ass. Her yelp is sexy as fuck, but I ignore the pleas from my cock and balls to have more fun and shove myself out of bed instead.

“Dex!” she snaps, reaching for the sheets to cover herself again, but I yank them down to the end of the bed. “Stop it! If you want to go eat breakfast, go ahead. I’m going back to sleep. No one gets up this early.”

“I do, which means you are too.” Crossing my arms, I grin when I catch her gaze drifting down my abs to my dick before she quickly lifts her chin to meet my eyes. “If you’re a really good girl at breakfast, I’ll let you touch it again.”

“Ha. Ha.” Katja glares at me and I can see the gears in her brilliant mind turning over the situation in front of her, looking for an out—not that I ever leave her one.

“I’m going to start the shower, and if you’re not in the bathroom in one minute I’m going to come out and get you.” Tilting my head toward the bathroom door, I let my grin spread. “And trust me, princess… You’ll like this morning a lot more if you obey.”

I’m halfway to her bathroom when I hear her scoff.