“Oh... But I think you do, honey. See, I’m not so surprised by your choice. After all, you’re nothing but a slut yourself, and you need a man like him to give you your fix, but they’ll never accept him.”
“You made me a slut, Lance.”
“Mmm... I fucking did, didn’t I?”
He shakes his head, smiling darkly as he relishes the memory. “To your credit, you screamed and fought me, but I knew it that very night when your untouched pussy swallowed my cock for the first time. I knew you were going to turn out just the way I wanted. None of the women who opened their legs for me, including your sister, were anything like you.”
He puts his glass of scotch on the desk and takes his tuxedo jacket off. “I fucking picked the wrong sister, but you were too young, and they wouldn’t have given you to me. I never liked Evelyne, but she was the obvious choice, and she was forced down my throat. Why do you think that, up to this day, I’d fuck anyone but her?”
“You didn’t love anyone, Lance.”
“That may be true, but sure as hell, I loved fucking you.”
He rounds the desk, and I barely suppress my impulse to flee. My hand slips to the edge of the desk. He nears me, his eyes boring into mine. Curious. Inquisitive. Questioning.
A soft chuckle lifts off his lips as his finger trails the contour of my collarbone and then slides down inside my cleavage, stopping between my breasts.
“It doesn’t have to be rough, Senna. I can be smooth, and I bet he is smooth as well. You and I can be what we once were, and nobody needs to know. You can have that husband of yours. This way, everybody will be happy.”
He tucks his finger under my chin and tips my face up. The other hand grabs mine and presses it on his erection.
“See... You still get me hard.”
He rolls my hand up and down, his cock twitching against my touch.
“What if I say no?”
“Your parents will find out the truth about him and you.”
I smile.
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
He grins back at me, a shred of anger flashing through his smirk.
“No, it’s not. He was nothing but a street whore.”
I laugh, cold.
“How would you know that?”
“Well, the funny thing is I didn’t have to do anything to find out. The information has been handed to me.”
“Really?” I ask, tilting my head back and lifting an eyebrow while trying to move away from him.
“Uh-uh.”
He snakes his arm around me and keeps me in place, pressing his hardness into my abdomen.
“Women are a bit obsessed with him, and it happens that one of Evelyne’s friends got a little fixation on him at Isabel's party. She hired someone to find out who he was. Accounts of him servicing random people on the streets came back to her.”
“I don’t believe a fucking thing.”
“There was a woman who left her husband because of him.”
“Had that friend shown you any proof?”
“The PI forwarded pictures of him with that woman.”