“They are.”
I nod slowly. “Then stay here, but don’t lose her.”
A familiar face approaches my table—a nervous-looking businessman, fidgeting with his cufflinks. I gesture for him to sit, already knowing what favor he’s here to ask.
But even as I conduct business, my eye never strays far from Raven. She moves through the room like she was born to do it, making an impression with every batting eyelash and coy smile. Pride stirs in my chest, unexpected and warm.
There’s something else as well. And… fuck, I think it’s jealousy. I don’t like how much attention she garners. For fuck’s sake, women are walking around topless, and it’s Raven everyone looks at.
The next couple of hours are a test in patience and priorities. I do my best to focus on business, yet my gaze finds Raven every couple of minutes. She laughs again, tipping her head back for another man’s joke, and that sound slices through the noise like a blade to my nerves.
That’s fucking it. I’ve had enough.
I rise, ignoring the poor bastard still mid-sentence across from me. “Handle it,” I tell Vito and cut through the crowd. They scatter the way dry leaves move before a storm.
Raven doesn’t notice me until my shadow swallows her drink. Her smile falters. The man beside her opens his mouth—maybe to flirt, maybe to breathe—but I catch her wrist and pull her off the stool before he gets the chance.
“Matteo,” she purrs, her tone soft but her eyes flinty. “You’re—”
“I missed you,” I croon. “Come back with me.”
Without waiting for her answer, I steer her back to my booth and drop into the leather, pulling her down with me until she’s sitting across my thighs, back against my chest.
Around us, the room keeps moving—business never stops. A new face approaches, sweating through his designer suit. I tiltmy head at Vito, who waves the man closer. Raven’s still tense on my lap when the petitioner stops at our table, clutching a black folder like a lifeline.
“Mr. Russo,” he starts, voice shaking. “About the West Bank shipments—”
I rest my chin on Raven’s shoulder, my hand sliding up her thigh as I nod for the man to continue. “Talk,” I say. “But don’t bore me.”
While he stammers through a proposal about dock space and tariffs, I move my hand between Raven’s legs and cup her pussy. The movement has her shifting on my lap, and I have to bite back a groan.
Her breath catches, her body tensing against me. “Matteo,” she murmurs, turning to look at me over her shoulder.
I watch her face for any sign that she wants me to stop, but there’s only surprise and something darker—heat flashing in her brown orbs. Needing more, I force my hand beneath the edge of those tiny fucking shorts, feeling dampness.
“You’re wet,” I rasp against her ear, low enough that only she can hear me. “Were you thinking about me while you were playing your part?” She’d better have fucking been. If this is because of another man, I’ll burn him alive while she watches.
She leans back and rests her head on my shoulder while subtly pressing against my fingers. “I was working,” she whispers back, her voice strained. “But y-yes. You might have had something to do with it. Watching you was very… hot.”
I chuckle, sliding my fingers beneath the thin fabric of her underwear, finding her slick and hot. “Multitasking, then.”
The businessman is still droning on about logistics and customs fees, completely oblivious to what’s happening beneath the table. Vito, on the other hand, keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the petitioner’s face, though I catch the slight tightening at the corners of his mouth. Nothing escapes him.
I circle my finger around Raven’s clit, feeling her thighs tremble. “Pay attention,” I breathe against her neck. “This is business.”
She nods jerkily, her nails digging into my thigh where her hand rests. I slide one finger inside her, slow and deliberate, and her back arches slightly.
“Mr. Russo?” The businessman pauses, sensing my attention has wandered. “Should I continue?”
I wave my free hand. “You’ve made your point. I’ll grant the favor you’re asking for.” I dismiss him with a nod. “Vito, please take care of the rest and walk him out.”
As soon as they’re gone, Raven turns her head, her lips brushing my ear. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she hisses, even as she rocks subtly against my hand.
“Making a point,” I reply, curling my fingers inside her. “You’re mine. Every inch of you. Even when you’re playing games with other men, you’re still mine to touch, to pleasure, to control.”
Her breath hitches, her inner walls clenching around my fingers. “You’re insane.”
“Probably,” I agree, increasing the pace. “But you like it. Your body doesn’t lie, Little Thief.”
