Chapter 26
Anton
As Athena puts the champagne glasses on a tray and the other two move the glass-topped coffee table over to the wall, I take a step towards Genevieve. I’ll never admit this to her, but I’m gobsmacked that she didn’t run for the hills just then.
The flawless, dignified woman before me can’t turn down the chance to have a couple of guys crawling all over her, and I fucking love that about her, despite the jealousy I feel.
This is wholly out of character for me. Usually, I take what I want and I make sure never to leave the spoils for anyone else to enjoy.
That goes for both business and women.
But Genevieve has turned me down, something that frankly does not happen, so I have to pivot.
I have to take what I can get.
Even if that means letting David and Max put their greasy paws all over her.
That’s how desperate I am to undo her.
I’m not blind; I’ve observed her reaction to them in our meeting at Alchemy and this evening.
She’s attracted to them and she feels far less threatened by them than she does by me.
So if this—in my view unnecessary—workaround is the only way I’m going to see her naked and screaming anytime soon, so be it.
Besides.
It may be their hands on her, but make no mistake about it.
It will be my instruction, my twisted desires and the sound of my fucking voice in her ear that will have her begging for mercy.
I lean forward. She’s still plastered against the door frame. ‘It could have been just the two of us,’ I murmur. ‘But instead there’ll be five of us in the room. Greedy, greedy girl.’
Before she can answer, I walk away from her to attend to Athena. First, Athena’s the only person who’s doing this because she’s being paid to be here, so I owe it to her to check in with her. I never want the Seraph MO to be synonymous with the remotest coercion.
Second, I need to brief Athena so that the presence of another woman doesn’t make Genevieve more self-conscious while we put her through her paces.
Third, while Athena has one duty to fulfil—sucking me off when the ache in my balls gets too much—I’m all too aware that my paying her attention will make Genevieve jealous.
I’m counting on it.
Yes, I’m a monster. But I have never, not for one second, doubted her reasons for steering clear of me. They have nothing to do with attraction and everything to do with self-preservation.
My job this evening is to tip those scales in favour of the former, and, given my hands are metaphorically tied here, I’ll employ every dirty trick I can to aid me.
Glasses cleared, Athena stands patiently by my desk, awaiting instruction.
I reach into a drawer and pull out a sleep mask I use on her occasionally, bending to tug it gently over her pretty curls and cover her eyes.
Then I steer her to my desk chair and sit her down on it, swivelling it to face the wall of windows for good measure.
She can stay there till I need her. I know from experience that the anticipation, the torture of being able to hear but not see anything, will have her soaked. I’ll make sure to show my appreciation. Her reward will be all the sweeter for having waited.
Athena calms me down, both because she’s a sure thing and because she’s so even-tempered. Not like this badass I’ve developed an unfortunate fascination for.
But it’s precisely Genevieve’s badassery, and her insistence on holding me at arm’s length, that makes me determined to dig beneath her surface.
David and Max have guided her into the space between the sitting area and the boardroom table and are hovering by her, flirting gently in David’s case and more overtly in Max’s place. But they’re putting a smile on that beautiful face, so I don’t care.
I meant what I said about having fun.
I address her first. ‘Would you like a blindfold like Athena? I have a spare.’
She raises an eyebrow as she grants me a withering look. ‘Do I look stupid?’
I swallow a smirk. I wouldn’t abuse her trust by touching her while she was blindfolded, but clearly I have work to do on persuading her of that.
‘Have it your way.’ I turn to the guys. ‘I bet she looks beautiful with her hair down,’ I muse idly, hands in my pockets.
David reaches behind her. She has her hair twisted elegantly up in one of those big plastic clips.
He gently opens it, and her platinum locks tumble down.
She shakes her head from side to side. Her hair is wavy from the up-do, but it falls to just above her shoulders, making her look instantly softer.
I lick my lips. ‘I was right.’
Genevieve is doing a stellar job already. I know she’s apprehensive, but at the same time, she’s growing quieter. More serene. She’s changing before my eyes. It’s as if she’s exhausted from putting on a front, from holding off, and the relief is making her more pliant.
It’s as if she’s already mentally given herself over to this. Put her wellbeing in my hands, because she knows, deep down, I’ll do right by her. She knows she can relax and let me take charge.
Will I ever.
I cast my eyes down her. She’s watching me, but she’s not watchful. More curious. Her body is, quite frankly, banging. It’ll be fucking indecent when we get her clothes off.
‘Let’s take a look at her,’ I say. ‘I want to see what she’s got under there. Don’t you?’
I’m already struggling to keep my voice even, but I know it’s the commanding, controlled pitch of it that she responds to.
Just as I know instinctively that talking about her to the guys in the third person, as if she’s an anonymous plaything who’s here purely for us to fiddle and fuck and pet and pleasure, will give her a kick she’ll both resent and revel in.
‘Fuck, yes,’ Max says, edging David out of the way so he can step behind her. He’s more naturally dominant than David—the latter is honestly more of an extra set of hands attached to a hot body that women seem to respond to.
He’ll also cherish Genevieve, worship her like I want her to be worshipped. He was quite vocal about her charms on the short walk back from Alchemy the other day. I suspect he might be a little smitten.
Good.
Between the two of them, they’ll worship her and abase her and give her everything I’d give her if I had her to myself.
Max pushes her hair out of the way on one side and buries his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. ‘Mmph,’ he mumbles. ‘Smells amazing.’
‘Wait till you get to press your nose to her pussy,’ I say. ‘Imagine how fucking good she’ll smell down there. I bet it reeks of her arousal already.’
Genevieve jolts, and I lock eyes with her, watching in extreme gratification as her lips part.
I know I’m correct.
She’s already excited, and I can tell my words have taken her aback in the best way. I’m not sure what she was expecting from this, but I fully intend my filthy, pornographic commentary to work her up even more than Max and David’s skills.
After all, we all know who’s in charge here.
‘She’ll taste so fucking sweet,’ Max groans into her hair as he unzips her. The sound of metal teeth grating against each other is, as always, pregnant with promise.
I push down a wave of jealousy that these two twats will get to taste her before me.
Long game.
Remember?
David stands in front of her, preparing to relieve her of her dress and partially blocking my view.
‘Move,’ I order.
He steps aside. Max’s hands go to the neckline.
‘Okay. Slowly,’ I tell him. I only get to unwrap Genevieve for the first time once.
I’m determined to make it count.
He slides her dress down from behind her. The fabric skims over her shoulders, down her arms, black bra straps with a pretty lace scallop coming into view.
Fuck me.
Her tits.
They’re fucking amazing. Plump and perky and perfect, encased in black lace through which her nipples can’t hide their taut arousal.
I could get lost in that cleavage.
Bury my face in it.
My cock.
‘Beautiful,’ I breathe, my smile triumphant, because getting this far with her is no mean feat. My cock swells at the mere thought of fighting its way into that snug space. I’d keep her bra on so her tits stayed exactly like that, sheathing me as tightly as possible.
‘Touch her nipples,’ I tell David, moving slightly to the side to maintain my view. ‘Just a bit. Don’t give her too much—not yet.’
I want her begging us to let her get off.