(Sinveer's POV)
The club pulses. Red light bathes the air like blood washing over glasses. The floor trembles with the bass under my feet. But nothing moves me. Not for a long time. And it turns out tonight is not among those nights.
Not until I see her. Leaning against the bar like she owns it.
Her skin are polished like amber, dressed in a tight mini gown with the slit exposing her thighs like an invitation. Her lips are plump, begging for someone to slam her against a wall and ruin it.
And her eyes. God, those eyes. Staring at me not with fear or caution but with challenge. As if, telling me I couldn't approach, or if I could, I should dare.
A shiver, colder than the club's bass, brushes my skin, but I dismiss it as a mere anticipation. She is just another conquest, daring me to take what is mine. So I choose to.
Which is a bad mistake.
I signal to my men to bring her. They tried, but couldn't.
Unlike usual their steps were hesitant, a flicker of confusion in their eyes at her unwavering gaze, before stopping. The aura she exudes corrects their attempt.
The moment I see that, I know I have to possess her. To fuck her. To fuck that fire burning within her.
With a flick of my wrist, my men melt into the shadows.
But Marek my right-hand man walks towards me, speaking in my ear.
"Boss, are you actually dismissing us? Don't you find her confidence suspicious?"
"That's why I need her tonight. She is a breed you don't find everyday. And what can she do?"
"But Boss, what if she's with a weapon?" He presses.
"Ha! Don't make me laugh. A weapon? Where will she be hiding it? Is it inside the hole I will be pounding tonight? Look at what she's wearing, there's no space to hide anything." I brush him off.
"Boss, I don't know why you're talking like this, but you're not acting like your usual careful self. The others families are still on our neck." He informed, glancing at the girl.
"Don't think too much tonight, man. I just want to unwind."
"I won't stop you, but I'll be watching."
"Do what makes you comfortable."
I stand, making my way toward her. Each step I take, her gaze stays locked on me, not fluttering, not flinching, just relaxed.
When I reach the bar, I grab two black Amaro, and hand her one. She takes it, staring at me over the rim of the glass as she drinks. There's something about the sharp angle of her cheekbones, something almost… unfamiliar yet intriguing.
This one's feisty. I thought.
Getting closer to her, she looks like a foreigner, but not a foreigner at the same time. Red hair, blue eyes that pull you, that make you want to drown in them, in and a little too young to be in a club.
"You kept watching me," I say, almost hovering over her. My arms rest on the bar.
"So did you." Her eyes trailed over me, "isn't that why you are here?" She ask, gulping the entire content in her mouth.
Hmm. She's bold too.
"I like that you are bold enough to walk up to me." She added, her fingers tracing the rim of that glass. "That is how I like my men." Her lips stretched in an amused smile.
"Then come upstairs with me, since I believe you are aware as to why I approach you. " I say. Not ready to beat around the bush like a school boy.
She does, with no hesitation.
She reach for a purses that was less than the size of a phone, lifting her frame from the bar edge.
Her heels click against the floor like a countdown. Her waist sways in ways that promise heaven. We step into a VIP room, welcomed by a spacious bed that's going to speak a language I understand tonight.
"Why don't you go over there, and strip for me. Spread those legs for me to see the divine you are created with. "
She walks to the bed but doesn't strip, doesn't sit. Just stands there, staring at me with an intensity I thought only men could possess.
"Why are you in a rush, Sir?" She asks. "Why don't you sit for me instead, and let me do the work." She muttered.
I chuckle, feeling intrigued by her boldness.
Other girls would be sitting now, spreading their legs, while sliding their tongues like serpents. Which is boring.
"You think you can make me hard, little one?"
"Are you not hard already from just staring at me? And also, I'm actually good at what I do."
I smirk at that because it's true. My cock's hard. And it has been throbbing in demand for a while now. "I guess you know your stuff. Then why don't you come over here," I say, sitting on a chair a few meters away from the bed.
She glides toward me, her steps slow and measured. She drops to her knees, stripping me bare like she's unwrapping some particularly sinful gift.
Her fingers trail across my skin, sending jolts of electricity through my veins, caressing my thighs, heading for my cock at her own pace. Her eyes never leave mine. My cock twitches, greeting its seducer. It's torturer.
"Sir, you are quite big," she says in a French accent that has been bothering my head, and making my cock grow harder.
"Can you not take it?" I ask in a low voice.
"I could try," she replies.
"Then go on, little one."
My sanity's slipping from the wait. My patience is wearing thin. She moves closer, takes my dick in her tiny hands, smiling at it.
"Ohhhh shit," I moan, sucking my teeth. Tilting my head backwards, feeling her soft palms as they stroke gently.
It's been so long since I had sex, this is good, different in its own way.
Suddenly, I feel her tongue on my dick.