King of Spades (Wonderland 1)

Her eyes dart from mine as she looks around the room, maybe searching for her enemies to enter, but then just as quickly redirects her attention to me. She holds my glass of bourbon but has yet to drink from it.

“So yes, my girl,” I continue. “You’re in danger, and even more so being in such a public setting. You and I both know that Daddy Dearest won’t save you.” I tilt my head and take her in from head to toe. Fucking beautiful. “So, why come here? I’m curious. I’m sure you aren’t on the guest list.”

“I should be,” she says too fast. She takes a deep breath and crinkles her adorable nose for the briefest of moments, but then paints the Ice Queen face on once again. “I don’t see why this is any of your business.”

“I made it mine,” I say with a smile as I drink again. “At least for the night.”

“Excuse me?”

“I called off the hit for the time being. I had my men spread the word that you’re off limits tonight. You’re under my protection as long as you’re by my side.”

“I don’t need your protection.” Her bottom lip trembles, and she bites it back. Her teeth… fuck I want to feel those teeth. “I can take care of myself.”

“It’s only a matter of time until every hitman on the East Coast learns you’re here.” I clink my glass to hers. “And I have a feeling based on how you came running into this study, that you know Maxim has already arrived.” I walk to the heavy door, hearing the murmured voices, the clinking of champagne flutes, and the muffled music from the other side. Locking it, I turn to face her again. “You’re welcome.”

The color has drained from her face, and her already dark eyes seem to blacken more. “How much was the bounty for?”

I swallow back another swig of the bourbon. Such an ungentlemanly way to drink, but then I’m not exactly a gentleman at all times. “Tsk, tsk. It’s a celebration tonight. Why talk of such things that leave a bad taste in our mouths?” I lick my lips as thoughts of tasting her pussy run through my mind, down my body and straight to my hardening cock. “There’s so much more fun things we can do… and taste.”

“It’s not my celebration,” she says, glaring at the glass in her hand. “As you already know. Maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation if—”

“Careful, my girl. The way you speak sounds as if lemons are on your lips.”

She huffs and then drinks the entire glass before saying, “Better than having shit on them.” She glowers at me, igniting a different beauty in her features. “So why would you want to protect me?”

“Simple,” I state, approaching casually. I grab her empty glass and place it and my bottle down on the center table. “I want to fuck you before you die.”

Her thick-lashed eyes widen, her mouth opens, but she doesn’t appear offended.

Good.

I hate delicate flowers. I like my women with the thorns still attached.

But this is Lyriope. She’s got balls when it comes to trying to pay off the debt her greedy stepfather got her family into. Yes, she’s green, reckless, and never should have borrowed money from the Sidorov family with high stakes as collateral, but I admire her courage. She was naïve in thinking the Russians wouldn’t collect swiftly with no extensions offered, and now could die because of it. She’s over her head and trying to play in the big leagues. She wants to dance in a world she doesn’t belong in.

But I do like that she tried to help her family on her own. She didn’t throw out her ties to Bryant Morelli to hide behind. She didn’t use the name to protect her, nor did she ask Daddy for money. In fact, quite the opposite. You’d really have to have your finger on the gossip’s dying pulse to know she was the daughter of a Morelli’s mistress. A weaker person would fall back on the name to save herself when things got messy. And man, oh man, did it get messy when she went to the Sidorovs for money rather than a Morelli.

Pride makes my prick hard.

A little bit of crazy—which she clearly has—makes it fucking throb.

A smile forms on her face so slowly and so seductively that I consider putting my hand up her dress right this second just so I can touch her and see if her panties are wet. But I’ll control myself… for now.

“Thank you… Mr. Hudson. But I don’t need your protection tonight or any night. And since I have no plans of dying anytime soon… no need for the rush to… fuck me.”

Good girl.

Make me work for it.

“The way I see it is,” I say as I close the distance between us, so close I can smell the sweetness of the bourbon on her breath. “You either have a gun in your mouth by the end of tonight or my cock. I don’t want to see your pretty little face blown off. But I do want to see those lips around my dick. So, choose wisely.”