Page 44 of Maximum Bet

Her pussy begins to tighten around my cock, the telltale sign that she’s close to coming.

“Don’t come, Cassandra,” I command.

“Oh, please!” Her eyes become glassy as her ability to match my thrusts turns shaky.

“No.” I rut faster, the hand on her breast taking hold of her waist, guiding her movement.

“Dominic, please!” She’s begging, urging me so damn close to the finish line.

I pant in time to my rhythm, in, in, in. I’m about to find my release.

“Come.Now.” I bury myself deep, and Cassandra lets go. Howling in ecstasy so loud I’m sure my men in the hallway can hear her.

The second she begins to pulse around my cock, I lose control, filling her with hot spurts of my seed.

Desperate to catch her breath, Cassandra falls to the table, my hold on her waist the only thing keeping her balanced on her legs. I pump a few final times, letting her body milk me of every last drop.

“You’ve become as depraved as me.” I laugh, pulling out.

She sighs, her stance wobbly as I help her pull her panties up.

“You’ve ruined me.” She stands, one hand holding my bicep as she steadies herself.

“And I enjoyed every second of it.” I give her a chaste kiss, then buckle my belt.

She crosses the room to retrieve her dress, steps into it, and slides it up her body. “Help?” she asks, showing me her back and the open zipper.

I walk over, take hold of the slider, and lift it over the teeth. “I like taking clothes off you better.”

She turns around, laughing. “I’m sure you do.” She pauses, mouth dropping open. “Oh, my God. Dominic.”

“What?” I glance down, taking in my shirt and slacks.

“You’re covered in blood.”

I pull the sides of my shirt closed and inspect the damage. “It’s not that bad.” I shrug.

“Not that bad?” Cassandra tugs at the crisp white fabric. Well, once upon a time, it was white. “You can’t go back to the gala looking like this.”

“Eh.” I finish buttoning the shirt and reclaim my gun and jacket. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But . . .”

I grab her hand and lead her toward the door. When I swing it open, I’m not surprised at what I find. Romano-Tariello associates litter the hallway. I can hear Marco and Lucas around the corner discussing the dead Russians.

As we walk out of the dressing room, I spot Leo standing by the door.

“Really?” He quirks a brow, glancing toward Cassandra before glaring at me.

My lips twitch as I fight back a cocky smirk. “You on top of figuring out who these guys are?” I ask.

“No IDs on them, but facial recognition came back with some possible hits.” Leo glances down the hallway toward the man I murdered.

“Good. We can go over that info tonight. But first, I need someone to find me a change of clothes. I’ve got a fucking party to attend.”

Chapter 17

Cassandra