Clara walks in, smiling shyly, carrying two coffee cups from the shop downstairs. She's wearing my shirt from last night, thehem hitting mid-thigh, exposing those perfect legs. Her hair is tousled, face scrubbed clean, lips still swollen from my kisses.
"Morning," she says, her voice soft. "I thought you might want?—"
I'm across the room in three strides, crushing her to me. Coffee sloshes over the cups, spilling onto the floor. I don't care. She's here. She's safe. She's mine.
"You left," I growl against her hair, inhaling her scent, reassuring the primitive part of my brain that needs her.
"Just for coffee," she says, sounding surprised. "The doorman let me back up. I used your key card."
I pull back, cupping her face in my hands. "Don't leave without telling me. Ever again."
Her eyes widen, but she nods. "Okay."
The panic recedes, replaced by a different kind of hunger. She looks fucking edible in my shirt, smelling of me, of sex, of us together. My cock hardens instantly, pressing against the zipper of my hastily donned pants. I lean down to claim her mouth?—
"Excuse me."
The voice from behind Clara makes my head snap up. One of those auction pricks from last night—Richardson—stands in my open doorway. Must have caught the elevator before it closed behind Clara.
"I just wanted a word with the lovely lady," he says, eyes roaming over Clara's bare legs. "Didn't realize you were…entertaining, Wolfe."
Before I reach him, Clara steps toward the door, trying to close it.
"Please leave," she says firmly.
Richardson's hand shoots out, grabbing her arm. "Now, don't be like that, sweetheart. I still have that check I was going to write for you last night?—"
Rage detonates. Hell, the fucker must still be drunk from last night. I yank him back, slam him into the wall hard enough that a picture falls. My forearm presses against his throat, cutting off his air. His eyes bulge, face reddening.
"Touch her again and you're dead," I snarl, voice barely human. "Not figuratively. Not financially. Actually dead. They will never find your body."
He claws at my arm, panic in his eyes. He believes me. Good.
"Sabien," Clara says softly from behind me. Not afraid. Concerned.
I ease the pressure just enough for him to gasp in air. "Get out. Never come near her again. If I see you in the same room as her, I will end your entire fucking existence."
I step back. Richardson stumbles away, coughing, hand at his throat. "Fucking psychopath," he wheezes, but he's moving toward the door, fear evident in every line of his body.
"Exactly." I smile, cold and dangerous. "Remember that."
The door closes behind him. I turn to Clara, expecting fear, regret. Instead, her eyes are dark with something else entirely. She takes a step toward me, then another.
I drag her to my chest, kiss her hard—possessive, devouring. My hands roam her body, needing to touch, to claim, to reassure myself she's really here. "No one else, baby," I growl against her mouth. "No one touches what's mine."
She moans into the kiss, body melting against mine. I lift her, her legs automatically wrapping around my waist. Three steps to the couch. I lay her down, rip off my shirt that she's wearing. She's naked underneath, perfect and mine.
"Spread for Daddy," I command, already unzipping my pants.
She obeys instantly, thighs falling open. Her pussy is pink and swollen from last night, glistening already with need. Mine. All fucking mine.
"This pussy is mine," I growl, positioning myself between her legs, the head of my cock nudging her entrance. "Say it."
"Yours," she whispers, eyes locked on mine, no hesitation.
I slam home in one hard thrust. She cries out, back arching. She's tighter than last night if that's even possible, gripping me like a vise. I know I should be gentle—she's new to this, probably sore—but I can't. Not after the panic of thinking I'd lost her. Not after seeing another man's hands on her.
I fuck her rough, hips pistoning, one hand gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks, the other braced on the couch beside her head. "Mine," I grunt with each thrust. "All. Fucking. Mine."
