Heart of a Devil

Chapter 12 – Sebastian

Chapter

Twelve

SEBASTIAN

I ’m not in an especially good mood today, and the update about the McIverson takeover isn’t helping. “What the fuck do you mean, he needs more time ? Does he need more time as much as he needs a working brain stem, the dickhead? I’m sick of their shit. I’m starting to think this deal isn’t worth it. Let’s fuck them off and leave them to whatever fate has in store. I’ll dance on their fucking graves.”

Gabriel gives me that look that says, “chill out you arsehole.” He might be younger than me, but he’s the calm one, and that look usually works. I trust his judgment, and if Gabriel thinks I’m losing the plot, then I probably am. Today, though? Today I’m in the mood for a fight, and I don’t really care where I find it. It’s been days since I dropped Lauren off after our night at Vincenzo’s, and she’s been radio silent. Maybe I was being arrogant, but I was convinced I’d hear from her. Convinced that she’d be back for more. The fact that she’s ghosting me is driving me crazy, and I have a strong urge to punch someone in the face.

“What are you looking at?” I snap at Taylor, the new lad. He’s a big, blond brute lurking at the back of the room, watching me so intensely I’m starting to feel like an exhibit at a freak show.

He jumps to attention and does a double take. “Umm… Nothing, Boss. Just, you know, learning?”

“Learning? What is this, fucking uni? Go and make yourself useful, kid. And make me some coffee.” He actually gives me a salute before he leaves and looks thrilled at the chance to do something for me. Bloody hell, when did I start running a kindergarten?

“There’s no point blowing the whole deal just because they’ve pissed you off, Seb,” Gabriel says, leaning on my desk with his arms crossed. “Alex and Jacob reckon they’re stalling in case they can find a better offer. We both know they can’t, and they’ll come crawling back to us in a week or so.”

I slam my fist down, still furious—with the McIversons, with Gabriel, with Lauren. Mainly with myself for giving so much of a shit. “That’s not the point though, is it? This business is full of sharks. If we look weak, we are weak, and some wannabe fuck knuckle will come sniffing at the blood in the water. Is it that little weasel Jimmy again?”

“Probably, Boss,” says Alex, looking to Jacob for confirmation.

“Is it or isn’t it, lads? And how about you give me some facts rather than eye-fucking each other?” Both men bristle, and dammit, I’m pushing their buttons on purpose.

Gabriel shakes his head wearily. “What crawled up your arse this morning? Sort your shit out, will you, because this isn’t helping anybody.”

Gabriel is my best mate, my son-in-law, and the father of my precious baby grandson. Right now, though, his still looks like a face I want to punch. I stand up, knocking over my chair behind me, and the tension in the room ratchets up. I’m considering who to swing at first when Taylor hustles back into the room, carrying a tray of drinks. I’m so wound up, I want to slap the damn thing in his face. He stares at me again, in that borderline creepy way of his. “There’s someone here to see you, Boss.”

“Well, tell them to fuck off, son—can’t you see we’re busy?”

“Yeah, I can, but she said you’d want to see her. She was pretty insistent.”

“She? Did you ask her what her name was?” Taylor nods and says he did, looking proud as punch about it. “And? What was it?”

“Oh! Sorry.” He shakes his head. “She said to tell you Gloria was looking for you.”

The name hits me like a fist to the gut, and I straighten my chair to buy time. I don’t want the lads here to see me swooning like a lovesick arsehole. “Right. Okay. Let’s pick this up later. And… Well, I’m sorry for being a prick, all right?”

“It’s okay, guv,” Alex pipes up as they leave the room. “We’re used to it.”

Cheeky bastard.

He does a double take as he encounters Lauren in the doorway, and fuck me, I can’t blame the man. She’s wearing a skin-tight black pencil skirt with a little slit on the side and a red silk blouse that clings to her breasts. She looks completely edible, and my jeans suddenly don’t feel big enough.

“Lauren,” Gabriel says, nodding politely. “Nice to see you again.” He makes no comment about the Gloria thing, which is lucky—I’d never forgive him if he made me discuss her pussy with him. He makes a move to leave the office, but she holds up her hand. “Actually, this might be something you both need to hear.”

Now I’m intrigued as well as horny, and I shrug as he stays behind. This has got to be business, and I need to stop imagining what it’d be like to bend her over my desk and fill her with my now-throbbing cock.

She takes a seat and crosses one elegant leg over the other in a way that doesn’t help the throbbing. “I might need a little light security,” she says. “I thought I’d come to you guys first.”

“Why? What the fuck is wrong? What’s going on?” It comes out as more of a snarl than I intended, and Gabriel looks surprised. I’m furious at the thought of her being in any kind of danger, and I’m unable to hide it. She looks at me with those dazzling amber eyes, and her knowing smile leaves me breathless.

“There’s probably nothing wrong, and this is just a precaution. Seb, have you told Gabriel about my family?”

I shake my head. Of course not. That was private.

She flashes me a smile that makes me feel like I passed a test. “Okay, Gabriel, my father is Phillipe Montoya. My cousin is Alejandro Montoya,” she says, watching him for his reaction.

I know him better than she does, so I see the slight widening of his eyes, the way he stays completely unresponsive for a few moments. That’s his I’m-cool-as-a-cucumber fake out. “I see,” he replies calmly. “That’s interesting. What do you, or the Montoyas, need from Archangel?”

My blood rises to the temperature of hellfire as she explains what happened, detailing the cybersecurity breach in a matter-of-fact way that somehow makes it all worse. She sounds so steady, so unaffected, that I wonder if she realizes how much danger she could be in.

Or maybe, I remind myself before I blunder in there as Mr. Shouty, she’s been a Montoya her whole damn life and none of this is new to her. Fuck. My childhood was no tea party, but hers wasn’t either. I manage to keep my mouth shut until she’s finished and don’t bother asking why she’s reaching out to us and not her own family. I already know how independent she is, and she’d hate running back to them.

I look at Gabriel, and he nods solemnly. Unfortunately, we’ve both got bitter experience of the women in our lives being threatened, and neither of us will allow it to happen again. “You can count on us,” he says. “Are you open to us coming up with a protection plan?”

“Of course she fucking is, why else would she be here? And this is the plan—we don’t take our eyes off her. Ideally, we move her out to a safe house, maybe that place in Chelsea? Once she’s there, we’ll set up guards twenty-four seven, both outside and inside. She has a driver, someone to take her to and from work, and probably someone based at the law firm as well. I’ll do most of it myself, and we’ll bring in Scott or one of the others for the rest. Plus, we need to install cameras, panic buttons, the full works. I’ll need access to her diary so we can decide which appointments she can keep and which need to be canceled. No new clients at all. Until this guy is found, there won’t be a minute that she’s not watched and protected.”

“Have you quite finished?” Lauren asks, glaring up at me with fire in her eyes. “Or did you forget I was here?”

Ha. Fat chance of that. I see the woman in my sleep.

“First of all, I will not be moving out of my apartment under any circumstances barring cockroach infestation or an army of flesh-eating rats. I will accept the panic buttons and cameras, apart from in my bathroom and bedroom. I will accept extra security at the office, because I certainly don’t want anyone else caught up in this. As for taking on new clients, we’ve already decided to put a pause on those while Sam is on leave. I will ask for a driver when I feel like I’m entering a high-risk situation—and before you interrupt, I will be the judge of what is high risk and what isn’t. But I will not—and I cannot stress this enough, Seb—I will not be kept prisoner. Nobody will be in my apartment with me unless I invite them in. Nobody will be telling me where I can go and what I can do. Nobody will be running my life except for me. Understood?”

I’ve practically got steam coming out of my ears by this stage, and I’m not sure if I want to fuck her or shake some sense into her. Both. Definitely both.

Gabriel stands and cracks his shoulders. “Remind you of anyone?”

He means Sam, of course, who is just as infuriatingly stubborn. “It does. And I remember how that turned out too.” With her being grabbed while she was pregnant with Max and almost breaking all our hearts.

He gives me a serious look. “That won’t be happening again, Seb. We’ll make sure Lauren is safe and that there’s no threat to anyone else. I was thinking of beefing up security at the law firm anyway, after Sam told me about this Volkov case. Our own house is already like Fort bloody Knox, but we could definitely tighten things up at the firm. I’m going to leave you two to sort out your differences, because something tells me I really don’t want to get caught in the middle of this shitstorm. See you later, Seb. Nice to meet you, Gloria.”

She laughs at that one, and I hate how the sound of it melts the worst of my anger. I feel so damn unstable around this woman, and I have no clue what to do about it.

She looks at me from across the desk, a little less cocky now we’re alone together. “I know you’re pissed at me, Seb, and that you’d like to lock me up and keep me safe, but I can’t live like that. I meant what I said the other night—I won’t live my life based on fear anymore. I’ve already had the lecture from my cousin, and I won’t be reckless, but I refuse to let this control my life. If this is too hard for you, say the word, and I’ll look into a different security firm.”

She sounds sincere, but the thought of her reaching out to anyone else for help breaks me in two. I shake my head and force myself to take deep breaths. “No. We can do it your way if that’s what you want. I’ll need more information, though, all the details you can find for me, plus a contact in your family’s organization to liaise with. And before you object, I won’t be sneaking around behind your back. It’s just so we can stay up to date on developments with this Mafia-baby hacker bullshit. Plus, if I talk to someone who actually knows you, maybe they can give me tips on how not to strangle you before all this is over.”

She nods her agreement, but her eyes tell me she’s elsewhere. “You strangled me a little on Friday night.”

Boom, my cock goes hard. I’m surprised it doesn’t hit the desk. “Fuck, Lauren. Why would you say that, just when I was trying to be professional? Now all I can think about is fucking you.”

“Maybe that’s what I had in mind. Except I think I’d like to fuck you this time, Seb. What do you say, big man? You up for it?”

Fuck. I’m always up for it with this girl. Sure, I prefer being in charge, but it wouldn’t kill me to let her take a turn. Maybe, in a complicated, bullshit psychology way, it might help her feel more in control of her life. It couldn’t have been easy to ask us for help. I’ll be doing her a kindness and getting fucked as part of the bargain. Win-win.

“What did you have in mind?”

She grins wickedly at me. “You’ll see. Now, I’d like you to stay in that chair and not move unless I tell you, okay?”

“I’ll do my best, sweetheart, but I make no promises.”

She rolls her eyes. “I guess that’ll have to do. Are we likely to be disturbed, and will anyone hear us?”

“Not if you lock the door, and yeah, possibly, depending on how much noise we make.”

She gets out her phone, and the next thing I know, Donna Summer’s sultry disco number “Love to Love You Baby” blasts out at full volume. “This is my music to fuck to playlist.”

“What? Have you fucked other men listening to these songs? Because if so, I’d rather listen to fingernails being dragged down a chalkboard.”

“I’m joking, Seb. It’s just a playlist. Background. A little bit of rhythm.”

She locks the door, then struts around to my side of the desk, her body moving gracefully in time to the music. She pushes my chair back against the wall to make space and tells me to sit on my hands. There are plenty of other places I’d like to put my hands right now, but I go along—for the time being.

She starts to dance in front of me, a slow and sensual flow that involves a lot of hip action, shimmying, and hair tossing. She runs her hands up her body, slowly exploring every curve, then starts to unbutton her silk blouse. I suck in a tortured breath, desperate to tear the flimsy fabric away from her with my teeth. Button by button she goes, taking her time in revealing large, perfect tits spilling out of a red lace bra. Tanned, supple skin, perky nipples showing through the material… Fuck me, definitely good enough to eat. “You want a taste, Seb? You only have to ask.”

I nod, my nostrils flaring as she lowers the cup of her bra and hovers in front of me. “You can look. You can taste. You cannot touch—not until I say so. Okay?”

Willing to agree to anything, I nod, and she dances between my spread legs, closing the distance between us. I suck that big beautiful brown nipple into my mouth, consumed by the taste of her, the smell of her perfume. The dark curls swaying around her face. I suckle and nip and swirl my tongue, keeping up the steady rhythm she likes, enjoying her little moans, working her over hands-free. She clutches the back of my head, pulling me closer and giving me access to the other nipple. “God, Seb, the way you do that… I swear you could make me come just by doing that.”

Sweet mother of fuck, I’m definitely willing to try, but she suddenly pulls away. “Not quite yet though, I’m afraid. First we need to make sure you’re nice and hot for me.”

“Fuck, Lauren. My cock is about to explode. I don’t think I could be any hotter for you. Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?”

“What a way to go, though, huh?”

The music changes to something slow and sensual that I don’t recognize, and she slinks out of her blouse. Her breasts are still exposed, nipples red from my mouth, and her pupils are huge. She reaches behind herself and undoes a zip, then starts to slowly smooth that skin-hugging skirt down her hips, inch by frustrating inch. Soon, she’s naked apart from the red bra, a matching thong, and her black stiletto heels. “Lauren. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

She slides her butt back onto my desk, scattering the papers and sending an empty mug to the floor, and hoists her feet up in front of her, heels on the surface. She spreads her legs, her eyes on mine as she teases, revealing a little more with each second. My pulse jackhammers as she shows me her soaking wet thong, a flash of dark hair between her legs, a glimpse of the perfect pink pussy beneath it. Her scent floods my senses, and I want nothing more than to bury my nose in her folds and lick her creamy slit until she comes for me.

Again, she times it to perfection—right as I’m about to lean forward and take what she’s offering, she slides her feet back down on the floor and flips over so her front half is spread on the desk and her rear is facing me in all its glory. Her ass is enormous in the best possible way, her juicy round cheeks filling my vision and begging to be bitten. She sways her hips in time to the music, and the moisture from her pussy shines on her thighs. Her toned legs stretch on forever, and I genuinely don’t think I can take much more of this lap dance without breaking my promise.

She peeks at me over her shoulder, eyes twinkling. “Want me to fuck you yet, Seb?”

I nod grimly, staring at the gyrations of her backside and imagining what I’d like to do to it.

“Then beg for it, baby.”

She lifts herself up from the desk, then turns around and takes off her bra. Continuing to move in time to the music, she slides her thong down those curvy hips, those luscious legs. She balls up the fabric and holds it under my nose. “Beg for it, Seb. Beg for it, and I’ll give you the ride of your life.”

I glare up at her, inhaling the scent of cum and woman from her panties like it’s a class-A drug. We both know I could throw her on that desk and fuck her whenever I wanted to. We both know she couldn’t fight me off, even if she tried. So what’s stopping me? I was rough enough with her the other night, and she loved it. Except… That’s clearly not what she needs right now. She needs to feel her power. I grit my teeth and growl, “I’m begging you. Please, sweetheart. I need to be inside you.”

She strokes my cheek, and I turn my head to kiss the warm skin of her palm. Something seems to melt inside her, and she leans down to kiss me properly. Her tongue dances against mine and her lips drive me crazy. With a woman like Lauren, kissing is more intimate than fucking. “Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for this.”

I’m about to tell her she’s welcome, but her hands go to my jeans, and she eases my cock free of its boxer-short jail. I’m left speechless as she kneels down between my legs and takes it into her mouth, running her tongue along my shaft and licking pre-cum from its head. She holds my balls in her hand, gently squeezing them as she starts to suck. I glance down, see her lush red lips stretched around my engorged dick, and almost come there and then. “Fuck, Lauren. Stop, or I’ll be finishing in your mouth.” With a final flick of her tongue, she moves her head away, looking up at me with a face as flushed with need as I imagine mine to be. “Well, maybe we’ll save that for another time.”

She climbs on top of me, her hands on the back of the chair at either side of my neck, her pussy hovering above me. Slowly, she lowers herself down, groaning as my rock-hard cock spears her. I slide into her smooth as silk, her opening slick with arousal, her gorgeous flesh stretching around me as she sinks all the way onto my lap. Seeing stars as she rocks against me, I moan her name.

Her tempo increases, and before long she’s riding me like I’m a bucking bronco, her hair wild and her skin coated in sweat. She keeps a grip on the back of the chair, riding me faster and faster and harder and harder until… Fuck bollocks wank! I come with such intensity I think I might have blacked out for a second. My cum explodes inside her, coating her tight pussy walls, and I quake and quiver for what feels like hours in the aftermath. Her hair is draped around my shoulders, her bare breasts pressed against my face, and Gloria is still tightly gripping me. Fuck. I’ve only just come, but I feel like I could go again straight away. Not like this, though. This was most definitely a one-off.

I pull my hands free, grab hold of her ass, and stand with her legs still wrapped around me. “Seb. What are you doing?”

“I’m doing something I’ve wanted to do since the moment I met you, Lauren. I’m eating that perfect pussy of yours.”

She squeals and slaps at my arms, but her heart’s not in it. The hands clinging to my biceps and the little squeeze of her internal walls tell me she’s not going to fight this. I lay her down on the desk and fasten up my jeans. This is going to be all about her. I nudge her legs open and run my hands up her inner thighs. She trembles beneath me, and I gaze at her gorgeous center. Her neatly trimmed bush of dark curls glistens with my cum and her juices, and when I run my pointer finger along her folds, she sighs my name.

“This,” I say, “is going to be the most delicious pussy I have ever tasted.”

“Are you sure? My ex wouldn’t come near me once he’d come, said he didn’t like the smell.”

I give her thigh a gentle slap. “Well your ex was obviously a prick, and I don’t want to hear him mentioned while I’m anywhere near Gloria, okay? You smell fucking delicious. Your cum and mine, together. It’s fucking perfect. Now shut up and let me eat.”

Her giggle, sweet and innocent, goes straight to my dick.

I kiss my way along her inner thighs, her flesh trembling beneath my lips as I work my way higher. I’d normally torture her, drag this out, make her weep for it, but I’m feeling generous. She did, after all, give me the world’s sexiest lap dance.

I use my fingers to open her up, pulling her pussy lips aside so I can see her properly. A gorgeous swollen clit right there, sitting up and begging for attention. I smile at the sight and blow on it before I run my tongue all the way up and down her slit.

“Seb! Oh god, that feels so good.”

Her body squirms beneath me as I keep up the motion, her breathing building up to a pant. I slip my tongue inside her, exploring and tasting her salty sweetness before going back to her bud and sucking it gently into my mouth. Holding it there, I lick up and down and swirl my tongue around it, making her whole body tremor. She’s close, I can tell, and I want to feel her come. I slide a finger inside her and keep it there, rocking back and forth while I go back to swooping my tongue over her soaking wet pussy and her desperate clit. “Come for me now, sweetheart. Come all over my face.”

The dirty talk works its magic, and she obliges, screaming my name and tearing at my hair as her legs spasm on either side of my head. I keep licking and sucking, keep fingering her until the final last wave of pleasure sweeps through her. Her walls ripple around me, and her juice gushes out around my hand, drenching my face and beard in her delicious cum. I lick her clean and relish the sight of her naked, quivering body splayed out across my desk.

“You look good there, Hot Sauce,” I say. “So good I might just chain you to that desk and never let you go.”

“Promises, promises.”

I help her sit up, and we stare at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing. Twenty minutes ago, we both looked like normal human beings going about our working days. Now, we look like a pair of sex addicts who’ve fallen off the wagon. She reaches out and touches my face. “You’ve got a bit of something in your beard there…”

“I know. Someone squirted on me. It was fucking unbelievable. There’s a bathroom over there if you want to clean up. Personally, I’m happy to walk around smelling of your cunt for the rest of the fucking day.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you have a filthy mouth, Sebastian Donovan?” she says, standing up and kissing me firmly on the lips. “And I love it.”

She disappears off to my bathroom, giving me the chance to gather as many of my wits as I have left. I think I get less intelligent every time I fuck her.

She emerges looking almost as good as new, her hair up in a tidy ponytail and her makeup restored. “Have you stolen my panties again?”

I shrug, knowing they’re safely tucked away in my pocket. “No clue what you’re talking about. You must have lost them. You’re very careless with your knickers—I’ve noticed that about you.”

“Knickers!” she exclaims with childish delight. “One of my all-time favorite British-isms words.” She drops a quick kiss on my cheek. “Thanks for that, Mr. Donovan. I really needed it.”

“You’re very welcome, Ms. Hayes. But now I feel a bit used.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining.”

And she never will. “Shall I call round at yours later to sort those cameras? And did you drive here or walk over?” I’m keen to move away from the subject of sex and back to something that doesn’t have me acting like a lovesick schoolboy. Her protection should be a safe topic.

“Yes, you can come install the cameras. And I walked. It was a nice day, and I needed to clear my head.”

I fight back a sharp retort about how she should be taking her own safety more seriously and instead pick up the phone. I ask Scott, one of our most trusted men, to give her a lift back to the law office.

“Thanks,” she says. “These heels were killing me anyway. See you later.”

When she’s gone, I sink down on my chair and let myself breathe. Being around that woman is not good for my sanity when I have so much on my plate. Running Archangel is challenge enough without adding in the McIverson bullshit, the cyber threat against the Montoyas, and the potential upcoming conflict with the Russian mob. There are a lot of plates spinning right now, and I need to be able to think about something other than her delicious pussy.

Right, I decide, first things first. The McIversons. If I get them sorted, I can pay more attention to the stuff that matters. They’ve had enough time, and no matter what Gabriel says, it’s a situation that needs sorting. I’ll take Taylor with me, see what he’s made of. I give my beard a quick wipe down—I don’t want any other man getting the slightest hint of her scent—and head out of my office. The other guys have desks out here, and there’s a little kitchen and bar area where we hang out and talk about whatever shit happens to be on our minds.

As I saunter toward it with an admittedly smug spring to my step, they all look up, glance at each other, and in unison, they start to sing. It begins with an extended sigh, and then they all serenade me with a rousing rendition of “Love to Love You Baby.” The sight of all these big bruisers dancing around and singing the disco classic, complete with sounds lifted straight from porno movies, is enough to crack me up. I laugh until I’m fit to bust, shaking my head at their impudence.

Once the hilarity has died down, I point at young Taylor, who played a pretty mean air guitar throughout. “Get your coat, kid. We’ve got work to do.”