The Sins that Ruin (Obsidian Knights Secret Society #3)

5. Malone

FIVE

“Me?” The word’s flat, barely a question, and I study her closely.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous. Not just pretty, though she is that, too. But gorgeous. It’s usually a word I equate with perfect makeup and glamour. Or exotic, erotic displays of feminine perfection. Not natural.

It’s not just Scarlett’s beauty that adds the extra something I call gorgeous. It’s her force, that thing around her, shining from within her. The steel and velvet and everything in between.

The long, wavy black hair, creamy skin with soft, kissable lips, dark brows, and light-golden eyes. But she doesn’t really do anything to highlight those features. I fuck women who are put together, who take what they’ve been given and heighten it for my pleasure, and no doubt for theirs.

Scarlett doesn’t need to do a damn thing. She’s got the full package and it’s all natural.

She’s wearing a different dress today, a tight black one, and her heels are lower. Pretty and subtly sexy, choosing instead hinting over flaunting, and it looks like she’s work ready.

My fingers itch to touch her, to peel her out of those layers. I didn’t really get to touch her outside against the bar, at least not in the way I wanted. A way that would have sent her to her knees with my cock down her throat.

Or her with her red dress hiked up and panties pulled aside while I had her face-first against the brick wall.

I tap my ringed hand on the corner of the desk. “You.”

“Last time I checked,” she says, eyes narrowing, not making an effort to come any bit closer in a “please seduce me” move girls like her often use, “this isn’t the Middle Ages, and no one’s offered me as a dowry.”

“You’re wrong.”

“You have a time traveling office?”

I grin and it’s fucking real. For some reason, her dry, snarky humor makes my libido jack itself up. “You’ve been offered.”

“I didn’t get the memo.”

It isn’t what I meant, but I let it slide as I straighten up and walk toward her so I can breathe in her scent of gardenias. “You have, you know. By coming here. By not waiting for me to decide whether I was going to contact you or not. Whether your boring fucking plight’s worth my time.”

“It’s not little or boring, you asshole.”

I wrap my fingers around her throat, ignoring the tingle of heat from her skin, the delicate feel of the bones, and the rushing beat of her pulse when I give it a little squeeze. I pull her in close. “Don’t fucking call me names, Scarlett.”

“Or what?”

I squeeze harder. “I’ll snap your fucking neck.” Then I haul her up so my mouth’s at her ear. “If you want help from a man like me, you better find your inner sub.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“No?” I step back but don’t let her go. “I didn’t say sleep.”

Her eyes go wide and her nostrils flare. It takes everything in me not to throw her to the ground and make her service me.

She’ll be doing that. Just not right now.

“If we’re on the same fucking page…” I lock gazes with her until she makes the smallest sound. Then I let her go.

I go and pour myself a scotch, not bothering to offer her one. A man like JM wouldn’t.

I’d love to say she’s impressionable, but based on what I’ve seen, she’s a brat and stubborn as hell. But she’s also young in that sheltered way. I can use that.

And Scarlett’s here right now because I’ve manipulated her family and her sense of loyalty.

“I want what you have,” I say. “Just like you want what I can do.”

“Good. We’re back to money. I’d much prefer to give that to you.” The excited relief soaks every word as she pulls her bag around to open it. “I can?—”

“You could never afford my fee, if I were to charge you. And I already told you, I’ve got enough money. I do exceptionally well. What I don’t have is the respectable cloak you grew up with. You’re old money. You have a clean slate. You move in the circles I want to step into.”

I can almost see the relief and excitement rush out of her. Scarlett’s shoulders slump a moment. “But I don’t. Dad goes to all sorts of events, but I just go every once in a while when I can’t get out of it. My friends are from college, not from growing up in old money circles, and?—”

“Even better. How old are you?”

I know she’s twenty-three, ten years younger than me, and as much as she cries that she’s not spoiled, she fucking is. Everything that could have been mine is and was hers and it’s not fair, but I don’t forgive her for it. And her father’s still marked for death, the lying, raping, murderous bastard.

“I’m twenty-three and you must already know that. You knew my name.”

“I don’t have a fucking pinup of you on my wall,” I say, taking a swallow of my drink. The screen behind her is dark, so I walk back to the desk and grab the remote control. I hit a button, picking out one of the most depraved playroom displays we have. It’s a video because the club isn’t open yet, but it’ll have to do.

Then I sprawl out on one of the sofas.

“I haven’t memorized your favorite color or your spirit animal.” And I rest my hand on my thigh as I take another swallow of my drink.

She slides me a look before going to the bar and pouring herself a drink. I let her because I’m interested to see how Scarlett plays this out. She knows what I’m saying to her. That I want to fuck her and use her as a ticket to higher levels of society.

And we both know that means me and her pretending to be a couple.

“It’s a box jellyfish.”

“Spineless?”

“Deadly and beyond painful,” she snaps.

I laugh at her sharp tone. “You’re going to be fun, Scarlett,” I say softly. “I was going to tell you my rules, but I think it’ll be more enjoyable having you find them out as we go along.”

“I’m not?—”

“You are. If you want me to help you, then you’re going to be my fuck slave. Behind closed doors. Sometimes outside of them. And in polite company? We’re going to pretend to be a couple. Madly in love.”

“You’re not serious,” she whispers. “I’m not a whore.”

“You’ll be whatever I want you to be.”

Honestly, I don’t give a fuck what someone does to get by, to have fun, to earn money. If someone wants to be a whore in the real sense of the word, good for them. But I want her prickling with dislike for me. Rub her the wrong way when I think fireworks are going to explode.

Scarlett’s lip curls. “You’re disgusting.”

“You’re the one offering yourself to me on a platter.” I glance at the chair next to the sofa. “Sit.”

She stays where she is.

“Here’s the thing. We both know something shady and deadly is going on. There are threats. And in my experience, unknown and vague mean someone’s building to something. Playing a fucking game.” Now I pause. “It’s why your uncle bartered you in exchange for my help.”

She reels back, stumbling. “No. He wouldn’t.”

“He would. Call him.”

Her eyes are fucking huge, and I’m starting to get hard. There’s something delicious about her being a trapped and defiant creature. A fuzzy little thing with a bite, but she’s no match to my fucking jungle cat. I’ll play with her, gut her, and eat her up.

“H-he wouldn’t.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I say with a shrug, crossing my legs to hide the rise of my cock. She’ll be wrapping those lush lips around it soon enough, but I’m still playing this game and it’s fucking fun.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Go, then.” I raise my glass and gesture to the door. She doesn’t move and my lips lift into a smirk. “Thought not. C’mon, Scarlett, you don’t think your uncle would do what it takes to keep his little girl safe? Have you heard of Bishop? I don’t know if it’s him behind it, but people like that man and his family have mafia ties, and your father has a lot of debts. To whom, I don’t know. Neither does your uncle, or, at least, he doesn’t want to say, but bottom line? There’s trouble. I can help.”

“It has to be more than just protection.”

I see where her pretty mind’s headed. If I only offer protection, then she’s tied to me. But she doesn’t understand the implication of what she just said.

She’s going to do it.

I just figured there’d be a bigger fucking fight to get her there.

“I’ll find out who’s behind this,” I say. “But we stay together until my reputation is in better standing. Maybe a couple of months.”

“No.”

“Then go. I dare you.”

But she doesn’t move, neither do her eyes. They’re laser focused on me when she stabs something onto her phone screen. She raises it to her ear.

“Uncle Grant, I’m with JM.”

Scarlett’s silent a long time, and then she hangs up without another word to him. Her face is ashen, eyes wide with terror and panic.

If her father wasn’t such a fucking piece of shit who needs to be wiped off the planet, I’d almost feel sorry for her.

“He thinks it’s all fake.” Her eyes float closed. “He thinks I’m going to move into your spare room and fake a relationship.”

The way she says it, so flat, speaks volumes.

Her uncle is willing to sacrifice Scarlett for his kid. For himself, his brother, his business. End of story.

“Let him think that. In fact, make sure he and your father both think that, but sex is definitely on the table.” I look her up and down. “Drop the bag, finish your fucking drink.”

“Why—?”

“Rule one is don’t fucking talk back without my permission. You can, but it comes with punishment. But before we start, you’ve got to pass my first test.”

“I don’t—” She frowns, then stops mid-thought and takes a breath. “What do you mean by pass?”

“If you’re fucking shit at sex, then the deal’s off. Your family can all die for all I give a damn.” I uncross my legs and sit up. “Get on your fucking knees and crawl over here. Then blow me.”

Scarlett stares at me, rooted to the spot, and her eyes get bright and glittery as high spots of pink hit her cheeks.

I run through all the things I can say, the threats and promises, the philosophical arguments. The lewd and depraved. But in the end, I choose one single fucking word.

“Now.”

A shudder visibly ripples through her. She goes still, in that closed-off way she has where she seems to curl in on herself.

And then she downs the rest of her drink before slowly sinking to her knees.

She fucking crawls over to me.

And it’s one of the hottest fucking things I’ve ever seen in my life.

She doesn’t look down. There’s no act, just the sway of her hips as she moves until she’s here, right between my legs. She sits back on her heels and looks up. We stare at each other, and I give her a slight nod.

Like I gave her verbal permission, she slides her hands along my thighs and then to the button and zipper on my pants. The hiss of it parting cracks the silence. She reaches into my boxer briefs.

But I stop her because I need something else first. It’s something I should have done outside the bar.

Sliding a finger over her lips, I keep my eyes glued to hers, then shift my finger to beneath her chin, and like there’s string attached, she lifts up, offering me her mouth. I take it. Our lips meet and I part hers with the tip of my tongue.

Soft and sweet, the heat and smoke of the scotch a tantalizing buzz on her tongue as hers and mine touch. It’s like a hand around my fucking cock, a fire burning bright in my groin. A swoop of a roller coaster lives in this kiss.

Yeah, I can do this. And one kiss tells me everything.

Fucking her is going to be good.

Maybe even phenomenal.

I could leave it here. For now. But I’m greedy.

So I break away from her lips and settle back against the couch. “Do it.”

“Shit…” she whispers, so soft I almost miss it.

But she doesn’t back down. I’m aching, so fucking hard, the touch of her fingers as they wrap around my cock is almost too much.

“You’re so…” She dips her head down, tongue tentatively grazing the tip. “Big.”

And then I lose my fucking mind as her lips clamp around me. She sucks me into the heat and wetness of her mouth. It’s a little all over the place. She lacks rhythm and focus, not sure if she should swallow me down or suck hard, so she does both, and it’s so fucking good.

She’s magic. I swear to fucking God, she’s magic.

I wrap my hand in her hair and start to guide her head up and down. She learns fast, going a little deeper, her mouth pulling on me as her lips stretch to take me deeper.

What I want to do is slam her down so my dick hits the back of her throat. I want to fucking choke her on me, make her fight and drool.

“Fuck, yes,” I say, hissing out the words. “Go deeper, harder.”

I want her to make me almost come. I’m just under it, I feel that pressure in my balls, the way my spine starts to send out electric bursts.

Getting off is everything in this moment, hitting all the spots, feeling wet, hot flesh banging against my tip, the way she’s making her mouth tight and a tunnel for me to fuck my way into.

But I stop right before the moment of no return. And I push her away.

Now’s the real test. Sucking me off is one thing. But how far is she really willing to go? How much of this is about her family? And how much is about her?

I don’t need to blackmail women for sex. I can get plenty of it whenever I want. But something about Scarlett has my head in a twist.

Both my heads.

She could say no. She could beg for my mercy, ask to find another way.

She isn’t.

That tells me what I want to know.

“Up and face-first on the desk. Ass out. Do it.” I stand up. “Now.”

There’s a fucked-up mix of bliss and anger and need on her face, and her eyes have a slight glassiness to them that turns me on even more, if that’s possible.

She rises, a little wobbly, and walks over to the desk. I grab her, pushing her against it, and then I flip up her skirt, pull her pretty pink lace underwear down, and kick her ankles apart.

It’s one of the most beautiful fucking cunts I’ve seen. Dark pink, tight, wet.

That last one makes me smile.

She got off with me making her crawl.

Me making her blow me.

Me making her do this.

And that fucking tease of a kiss…

I stroke myself. And then I press against her back, positioning the tip of my cock against that sweet, wet pussy. “We can do this or not. Up to you.”

“But you won’t help if I don’t,” she rasps.

“Maybe,” I say. “Maybe not.”

I’m playing with fire. Of course, I’m stepping into her life, pretending to help, whether we do this or not. But as I said, I’m a greedy motherfucker. I’ll take everything I can get.

“Then fucking do it.”

“Another infraction.” I thrust into her, hard.

And she gasps, a small moan escaping as I fuck her with long, deep strokes.

Then I lick two fingers and push them into her ass, working the tight ring of muscle as she grinds against me.

I meant what I said about punishment. But really, I want to humiliate her. See if she gets off on that.

So, I use every ounce of restraint in me to pull out from that unbelievably tight and wet pussy and line my cock up with her ass.

She tenses, her fingertips digging into the edge of the desk.

I wrap an arm around her, holding her tight against me. Her breath morphs into short, sharp gasps and I can feel her heart thrashing in her chest.

Perfect. Utter fucking perfection.

Then I push into her tight hole. Slowly.