Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Victor
To be honest, I was in a pretty damn good mood right then.
My body was still riding the afterglow—muscles loose, blood flowing slow, the whole package floating in warm water. I even figured I could cut her some slack tonight. After all, she'd given me a decent night.
But good mood or not, the peep show was over. Time to pay up. The second this clever little mouse snuck onto my turf, she'd already lost any chance of getting away.
I drummed my fingers on the desk, counting down the seconds until my patience ran out. Once. Twice. Three times...
Fifteen seconds later, the cabinet door pushed open from inside. Evelyn Gray crawled out, looking about as comfortable as a cat in a bathtub.
Not bad. I still had some patience left.
"Smart choice, Evelyn." I never minded praising a clever woman. "That'll make our little chat a lot friendlier."
Evelyn bit down hard, staying quiet, like she was trying to salvage the last shred of dignity from this clusterfuck. She lifted her chin, but her eyes had other ideas—sliding down past my open collar and landing right on my unzipped fly.
Then she jerked her gaze back up like she'd been burned, her ears flaming red.
I had zero intention of zipping up. Hell, I leaned back in my chair, legs spread loose and easy, letting her take in the full picture of a man who'd just finished taking care of himself.
I'd always been confident about my size.
Besides, I was looking at her too.
She looked incredibly fuckable right now.
That criminally short tube dress had ridden up to her thighs, half her black panties on full display. The neckline barely held on, doing jack shit to contain her full breasts, all that pale skin practically glowing in the dim study light.
If you looked close enough—and trust me, I hadn't looked away for a second—you could even catch a hint of pale pink peeking out from under the dress's edge.
Interesting.
In my memory, Evelyn Gray had always been the textbook-perfect socialite. High collars, long skirts, pearl earrings, the right smile at the right distance. At every boring charity gala, she'd held herself like a nun—flawless, untouchable.
My idiot son had her once. Then he fucked it up with his usual combination of stupidity and wandering dick.
And the woman standing in front of me now? Nothing like that ice queen from memory.
She looked like she'd just rolled out of a hard fuck. Fear and nerves had her breathing heavy, chest heaving, the flush spreading with every breath.
My cock hardened again. Not great—for Evelyn, I mean.
She clearly had no clue how exposed she was. Just stood there in front of me, watching me with those cat-green eyes, all wariness and alert.
"How did you find me?"
Evelyn's voice shook, but she kept it steady. As Richard Gray's daughter, she had some spine.
"I think I'm the one who should be asking questions." I closed the book in my hand, eyes still crawling over her. "You need to explain why you're in my study with half your ass and tits hanging out."
Following my gaze, she stiffly looked down.
Then the flush burned from her collarbone to her ears like wildfire. Her hands flew to her dress in something close to panic, tugging and yanking until she barely covered her chest and ass.
I didn't rush her. Took my time enjoying the pink spreading across her skin before tapping the desk, signaling her to answer.
"I came here," those green eyes blinked twice, lips opening and closing, "because I've always admired you, Mr. Moretti."
She couldn't even look at me when she said it.
Bullshit. Every syllable, pure bullshit.
But I didn't call her out. Just tilted my head slightly, wearing a look of mild skepticism, encouraging her to keep digging.
Go on. I had all the time in the world to hear a pretty woman spin lies.
"I just wanted to take something personal of yours." She added, probably thinking the first half wasn't absurd enough. "As a keepsake."
I leaned against the desk edge, arms crossed, settling in to enjoy this trainwreck.
As a man who grew up in lies, ruled through lies, and killed with lies, I could say with absolute confidence—Evelyn Gray was one of the worst liars I'd ever seen.
Especially considering she was a politician's daughter. Made it even more ironic.
Richard was one of the best liars in this city. That mouth could turn black into white, sell poison as honey.
And his daughter?
Standing in front of me now, trembling lips spitting out the lamest lie in all of New York—but weirdly, her amateur hour made it... How do I put this?
Cute.
Not a word in my usual vocabulary.
But I had to admit, when a half-dressed, beautiful woman stands in front of you, blushing while claiming she's so obsessed she needs to steal your personal items—even when you know it's horseshit, the experience isn't entirely unpleasant.
"Is that so?" I curved my lips. "I think my son Julian suits you better. He's every New York girl's wet dream. Rich, handsome, young. Got a face that makes women scream and a last name that drives them crazy. And you, Miss Gray—"
I straightened from the desk, stepping closer.
"You've got a legitimate fiancé right there," I dropped my voice, letting the words carry that dangerous edge, "but you're saying you've been pining for your fiancé's father. A man twenty years older than him."
Evelyn blinked. Even though she bit her lip and refused to back down, the fear of her lie unraveling leaked through her heaving chest.
"Now that's a headline." I savored the forbidden taste of those words. "A story like that gets out, the Upper East Side wives will be gossiping about it for a year."
Evelyn lifted her chin, that stubbornness giving her a strange kind of appeal.
"My engagement to Julian was always a business deal you and my father made." Her voice started getting its edge back. "I never had a choice, but I have the right to choose who I like."
Evelyn's bright green eyes met mine, no flinching. "I've always liked men like you, Victor."
Interesting. She'd even prepared supporting arguments.
"Mature, stable, charismatic," she said.
Evelyn Gray had probably never truly confessed to a man in her life, because her blush was way too obvious. She practically had "amateur actress improvising lines" written across her forehead.
"And you don't juggle three women at once like Julian does." As if worried I wouldn't believe her, Evelyn bit her lip and added that last bit, carrying a hint of real resentment.
I'd heard plenty of women's praise. Fake, calculated, or genuine—in my half-century, I'd sampled every flavor.
They registered in my ears as background noise.
But this time felt different.
Because Evelyn Gray wasn't just any woman. From the moment I first saw her at that arranged marriage ceremony, I knew she'd be trouble for me. Sure, she was Julian's fiancée, but in my head, I'd already fucked her a hundred times.
That's exactly why, when I saw her dressed like that in my study on the security feed, I got so excited I canceled my plans.
I could've just dragged her out. But I chose something far more... entertaining for both of us.
So whether this clumsy confession she was blushing through was real or fake didn't matter anymore. What mattered was she was here, dressed like that, and I'd waited for this moment way too long.
"I had no idea," my gaze slid down her body, lingering on every spot worth stopping at, "you liked me that much."
"So, how are you going to prove it?" I leaned in close to Evelyn, whispering in her ear.
Evelyn's body jerked.
I could practically see her brain spinning, about to crash. Those full lips parted, then closed. Then Evelyn Gray did something that surprised me.
Her trembling fingers touched my chest, then slowly started moving.
This woman, in her sexy dress, claiming to like me, was clumsy to the point of almost comic when actually faced with me.
It should've annoyed me. I'd been pleased by countless women with far superior technique. Evelyn's performance right now would barely scrape a failing grade.
But the actual effect was the opposite. Her inexperience made me hard to the point of pain.
"Your affection seems... lacking," I commented.
Evelyn's fingers froze on my chest. I watched her throat work once, like she was swallowing something—probably her last bit of hesitation.
Then her hand moved down, pressing through the fabric of my pants against where I was already painfully hard, fingers uncertainly closing, tentatively squeezing.
Her technique was completely unskilled—pressure fluctuating, rhythm all wrong.
But feeling that trembling hand exploring through the fabric got me extremely excited.
"That's it?" I looked down at her, voice carrying a hint of wicked provocation.
Evelyn's face had gone completely red, even her neck flushed. Her lips pressed into a tight line, like she was in a final tug-of-war with some personal boundary.
Then she dropped to her knees, fingers yanking open my belt, pulling down the zipper, and took me straight into her mouth.
The moment her lips closed around me, a ball of scorching softness wrapped around me tight.
Her mouth was small and hot, tongue pressed against my underside, every involuntary swallow bringing a wave of tightness.
The muscles in my abdomen clenched hard, one hand bracing against the desk edge behind me.
She had no idea how to give head.
Lips wrapped too tight, teeth occasionally scraping the sensitive shaft. Her tongue was completely lost, just moving around clumsily.
But it was exactly this clumsiness—the way she clearly didn't know what she was doing but kept forcing herself deeper inch by inch—that made the pleasure unexpectedly intense.
Every time she tried to take me deeper, her throat would involuntarily contract, forcing out a suppressed gag, then she'd stubbornly steady herself and continue.
I looked down at her.
From this angle, I could see her thick black lashes covered in a layer of moisture, nose tip red, corners of her mouth stretched to the limit.
The Gray family's high-society princess was currently on her knees on my marble floor, wearing a dress about to fall apart, with her ex-fiancé's father's cock in her mouth.
Absurd and fucking obscene.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Sir." Luca's voice came from outside. "Julian's looking everywhere for someone. Miss Gray is missing."
I felt the pressure between my lips suddenly tighten—Evelyn had gone completely rigid. Her jaw unconsciously contracted, teeth lightly grazing me, and I sucked in a breath as a jolt mixing pain and pleasure shot from my lower abdomen to the top of my head.
Fuck.
She jerked her eyes up to me. Those green eyes went huge, mouth still full of me, not daring to move. Fear made her breathing shallow and rapid, warm breath hitting my lower abdomen in waves.
Shit. Her fear shouldn't have turned me on more, but it absolutely made me harder.
Outside the door, Luca was waiting for a response.
My hand pressed down on the back of Evelyn's head, fingers tightening, gripping her hair and pushing down. She let out a soft whimper, trapped in her throat.
"Tell him to look somewhere else." My voice wasn't quite steady, considering what was currently happening. "Tell everyone—"
Evelyn suddenly swallowed hard at that exact moment, the suction making white light explode in my brain. My fingers tightened in her hair.
"—until I say otherwise, no one comes near the study."
"Understood, sir."
The footsteps faded away.
I stared at the woman kneeling in front of me. Those green eyes glistened with oxygen deprivation and lingering fear.
She thought I'd let her go.
I read that expectation in her eyes. She figured she'd paid enough, that I'd graciously let her stand up, wipe her mouth, and leave this room with some dignity intact.
Too bad she didn't know me.
When something lands on my doorstep, I don't do returns.
I hauled her up off the floor. She yelped in shock, and before those green eyes could widen completely, I'd already pushed her onto the walnut desk.
Papers scattered to the floor, the pen holder tipped over. The closed laptop got shoved roughly to the other end of the desk.
Evelyn lay on her back on my desk, messy black hair spread across documents marked confidential, that micro dress bunched above her waist. She was breathing hard, her heaving chest finally breaking through the last defense of the tube top, both full breasts completely exposed to the air.
I gripped her waist with one hand, the other sliding down, thumb pressing directly onto that thin layer of black fabric.
Wet.
The dark fabric was soaked through with fluid. The instant I pressed down, I could feel the scalding heat underneath even through the material.
I looked up at her.
Evelyn clearly knew where my finger had stopped. Her lips trembled, the flush on her face burning from pink to deep red, those green eyes churning with shame, fear, and a trace of undeniable lust.
No question—she was craving this too.
"Since you like me so much," I leaned down, taking her blood-red earlobe in my mouth, whispering, "you must be really looking forward to what happens next, right?"
Evelyn didn't speak. Her chest rose and fell even harder.
We both knew the question was pointless. She'd already lost any way out, could only obediently nod her head.
My finger hooked the edge of that soaked fabric, pulling it aside. I positioned myself, pressing against her entrance.
Evelyn sucked in a breath, letting out a whimper like a cat in heat.
Outside the door, Julian's voice carried faintly, arguing loudly with someone.
And his ex-fiancée was spread-eagled on his father's desk, waiting for his father's cock to push inside.