Each time I looked into her eyes, there was always this flame flickering in their depths—the kind of fire that hinted at sheer desire. As much as I loved to bask in the lust growinginside her, the same was growing inside me, too. So whatever effect I was having on her, she was having on me, too.
When I finished in the pool, I headed back into the house with a white towel draped over my neck. My skin glistened with droplets under the soft light as I ran my fingers through my hair. I had just rounded a corner when I bumped into her in the hallway.
Her body collided with mine, her soft breasts pressed against my chest. A faint scowl flashed across her face, her fingers rubbing her forehead in a massaging motion. It appeared the impact had hurt that particular spot, hence the frown and the gentle massage.
“Watch where you’re going, will you?” she murmured, defiance flickering in her gaze.
She tried to hide it—but I could see right through her. Her eyes swept over my body in a fleeting moment, drinking in the sight of my chiseled abs and broad torso. Her breath hitched, and her throat wobbled, hinting at the heat spreading through her body.
Her gaze dropped to my groin, where the print of my cock was visible beneath my tight boxers.
A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Do you like what you see?”
“Huh—what?” Her eyes flicked back to my face, her tone defensive.
I raised my brows, letting a soft mocking laugh. “I know you like the view.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please don’t overestimate yourself.”
“You’re free to touch if you want.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she asked, arms across her chest, her voice laced with sarcasm.
I maintained that smirk on my lips while tugging at both ends of the towel around my neck. “Is that rhetorical?” I teased. “Because I could just as well answer it.” My eyes darted over her body.
She was wearing a pair of ripped jean shorts and a white crop top that exposed her flat belly. Beautiful and sexy. Her soft brown hair was back to the usual—tied into a messy ponytail—and her stormy green-gray eyes sparkled in the light.
She rolled her eyes again, shook her head, and walked past me, her shoulder brushing against mine in the process. She pretended to be unaffected by my words and the fleeting sexual tension that had hovered around us seconds ago.
I turned around with a smirk on my lips as I watched her leave, her hips swaying with each step. I stood there in the silence, savoring the sight of her amazing body and the awareness between us.
Her resistance was fleeting because it was only a matter of time before she’d fall for my subtle seduction. And when she did—nothing would ever be the same again. I’d own and possess every curve, every inch of her body, mind, and soul.
She would, in time, belong to me in every sense of the word.
Chapter 11 – Blair
The plan was simple: Flip the table and seduce him before he seduced me—make him want me so badly that he’d lose his composure. It seemed like a good and feasible plan at the time, especially because I’d be killing two birds with one stone.
However, as the days blurred past, I couldn’t bring myself to become the seductress that I thought I was. It turned out that it wasn’t as simple as I thought—easier said than done, I guess.
After all that hype about driving him crazy with my words, actions, and appearance, it was all just noise in the end. There’s one huge problem that I ignored when cooking up this seduction plan.
I was still a virgin.
Yep.
It didn’t make sense that an inexperienced girl like me would pull a stunt like effectively seducing a Mafia boss. Even if I managed to do so, I’d die of embarrassment before he’d be done with the first round.
Besides, this wasn’t how I envisioned getting deflowered—not by a ruthless monster like Nikolai Tarasov. Yet, he proved every day to be one thing I couldn’t stop staring at. I’d taken a pause on my plan to seduce him—because part of me was worried it wouldn’t end well.
But now, I was the one being seduced by him.
It was the tiny details that stirred up something inside me—his shoulder grazing mine when he moved too close, the sight of him shirtless, and that pesky little smirk on his face.
Every time I tried to remind myself that he was a monster and I shouldn’t feel anything for him, my mind would flash back to the night at his club. The way Nik had moved instinctively to save me from the pelting bullets blurred the line between thebeast I thought he was and the protector that shielded me from an attack.
If there wasn’t an ounce of goodness in him—no shred of humanity at all, then why did I hear worry and concern in his tone when he asked if I was hit? Was he faking it? I highly doubt that.
