I feel her getting closer, her breathing shallow, muscles tensing. Then, I withdraw my hand completely, leaving her on the edge. Her frustrated whimper is music to my ears.
“Not yet,” I tell her, licking my fingers clean.
“That’s not fair,” she whines, rocking her hips against the bulge in my pants. “I want to come.”
“When I say so,” I growl against her ear, the control buzzing through my veins better than any drug. “And not a moment before.”
She squirms in my lap, and the friction against my cock is delicious torture. I’m hard enough to cut glass, and she knows it,grinding down deliberately as she turns those wide brown eyes on me.
“Please?” she whispers, and, fuck if that doesn’t nearly undo me. My Little Thief, begging so sweetly.
“Soon,” I promise, my voice rougher than intended. “But first, tell me what you’ve learned.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, calculations running behind them. If I learned anything from watching her at work at the Parkview event, it’s that her mind is sharp as a blade. It’s what makes her dangerous. What makes her perfect. Makes her mine.
“The bartender with the snake tattoo,” she murmurs, leaning in like she’s whispering sweet nothings. “He’s skimming. And the blonde in the corner booth has been watching you all night, taking notes on her phone.”
I nod slightly, impressed despite myself. “What else?”
“Umm, someone they refer to as the Mister is meeting someone after hours. Something about a new shipment route.” She shifts again, deliberately pressing against my erection. “And your security guy by the east exit keeps checking his watch and stepping outside every twenty minutes exactly.”
My hand tightens on her thigh, fingers digging into soft flesh. “Good girl,” I praise, genuine this time. She’s observant, my Little Thief. Sees things others miss. “Very good.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her that every single thing she just pointed out was planned—a test created for her. One she passed with flying colors.
“That’s enough for one night, don’t you think?” I rasp.
“Do I get to come now?” she asks, hope coating each word.
Chapter 17
Raven
The answer is no. I do not get to come that night, or the next, or the one after that.
It’s been three days of going to dinner and the Leone Room, and each minute spent with Matteo feels like the longest and most frustrating foreplay. It’s infuriatingly delicious.
Infurilicious. That’s what it is.
“Fuck, you make it hard to walk away,” Matteo groans as my back hits my apartment door and he crowds me against it, his breath hot on my neck, his hands braced on either side of my head.
I’m trembling with need. By now, it’s a desperate craving that pulses between my thighs with every thundering heartbeat.
His knee wedges between my legs, and I gasp, unable to stop myself from grinding down on the firm pressure. God, I’m so worked up my arousal is soaking through my underwear, and the knowing smirk on his face tells me he can feel it.
“Then come inside,” I breathe, fumbling for my key. My fingers shake as I press it into his palm. “Please.”
Matteo’s gray gaze darkens as he studies my face, a half-smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Can’t tonight, Little Thief.” The roughness of his voice is enough to make me shiver. “I need to… talk with the guy you pointed out to me.”
“Seriously?” I squeak, indignation flaring alongside my arousal. “You’re turning down sex with me to talk tothatguy?”
A couple of hours before we left, I noticed one of the guys at the bar had a circle tattoo. I told Matteo about it, and within seconds, his men took the guy aside. I’m assuming it was to talk, and I’m pinning any indication or thought they might do more than that.
“Yes,” he groans as he cups my breast.
Despite just deciding to pin reality, I need to know the guy will be okay. “Matteo?”
“Mhmm.”
