Bound by Deceit to the Mafia's Heir.

A Night to Forget

Alex

The club had smothered me-a cloud of cigarette smoke, thumping bass in my chest, and flashing neon lights. I needed to escape the weight of my father's empire with the lies and bloodshed that came with it. This place was my refuge for the night, even if it was a poor excuse for one. It reeked of alcohol and desperation, but I didn't care. I just needed that distraction.

I leaned back against the cavernous leather booth in the VIP section, my eyes wandering over the ocean of bodies gyrating to the erotic beat of the headphones. Then I saw her.

Sin itself moved with the contours brought to life by the red and purple lights. Long legs wrapped in black stockings, a sequined top barely covering her, and an indecent smirk that tightened my lips made the cut. She twisted her body to every groove as though owning the stage, as if born to tempt. The crowd cheered, but I hardly heard them. All I saw was her.

I shouldn't have been staring so hard, but I couldn't stop. Lust clawed its way into my veins as reason died in my head. Who was she? No-what was she? A siren in human form, and I was already drowning.

Her eyes found mine.

At first, it was subtle, just a flicker of acknowledgment as her gaze wandered around the room. But her movements slowed, becoming deliberate when she spotted me. She whirled around that pole, eyes firmly locking onto mine, daring hints glimmering within her dark orbs. She knew. She knew what she was doing to me, and damn it, she was enjoying it.

I leaned closer, fingers digging into the edge of the table. Heat coiled low in my belly, and my heartbeat thundered in my ears. She came down the pole, her body bending like fire in the wind, her lips twisting into a wicked smile. Every movement was engineered to ensnare, and I was her agog prey.

When she finished her performance, I anticipated that she would soon disappear into the creased curtains like the rest. However, she walked off with hips swaying step by step straight to my booth. The crowd blurred out of existence as she bridged the distance. My jaw tightened, my fingers curling into a fist against my thigh to keep me from reaching out.

"Enjoying the show?" she asked in a low, husky voice, sending a shiver down my spine.

I gave a dry chuckle, which was supposed to mask the raging fire inside me. "Depends. Such as, "Do I get a closer look?"

She laughed softly, a sound that could only be felt like silk on the skin. Her eyes raked over him, judging, teasing. "That also depends. How much is a closer look worth to you?"

I smirked at the tilt of my head. "Why don't you tell me?"

There was a faint fragrance of vanilla, just an undercurrent to something much darker that seemed to envelop me as she leaned in. Lips hovering right by my ear, she whispered: "Private dance, that's one thousand. And if you want more than that..." She pulled back, daring me in her expression to take that bait. Lust tightened around my guts, and I knew it wouldn't be possible, not tonight.

"What's your name?" I asked, a rougher tone than I intended coming out with my curiosity.

"Shantex." Slowly her lips curved into a smile. "And you?"

"Alex."

"Hmmm. Well, Alex," she purred, sliding into the booth beside me, her thigh brushing against mine. "What are you looking for tonight?" Swallowed hard, my gaze dropping to her lips. "Distraction."

Her fingers trailed up my arm, light as a feather, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. "Lucky for you, I'm very good at that."

Torn apart, I leaned in closer until her waist met my hand as I pulled her just enough for my body to feel the curve she made against me. She took a breath, and yet she didn't pull away, but her lips curled into a smile that promised trouble.

"How much?" I asked, my voice low.

"As for the night?" she whispered, barely brushing her lips against mine.

I nodded.

Her fingers played with the collar of my shirt, her nails scraping lightly against my skin. "Five thousand."

"Done." My voice escaped sharper than intended, but I really didn't care. All I wanted was her.

Shantex got up and took my hand, leading me towards the private rooms at the back. Her fingers laced with mine, a soft contrast to the fire blazing between us. Each step bore heavier weight and was ever more charged with anticipation. I had no idea what the night held in store for me, but one thing I was certainly sure about-no way to turn back now.

Shantex

I staggered in shock for an instant when he posed the question about how much it would cost to spend the night with him. Oh, not that the question asked sounded nobel; it was just that for a good part, there was some offbeat touch about this one. The way stormy eyes bore into mine fired up my skin, and there was something caressing in the low and smooth voice that came out like an echo.

I leaned in close enough for him to catch the faint scent of my perfume and allowed a teasing smile to curve my lips. "You know," I whispered, dropping into sultry mode, "it all depends. How much is a night with me worth to you?"

He didn't reply that exact second, and that only made him exponentially more interesting. Any other guy would probably have either rifled through their references or thrown out a number, but he just strides on, keeping me in his catchment with eyes roaming like all hunters do across my face, down to my body, studying me, I was sure.

When he eventually found his voice, it was a calm and intent voice that said, "Anything."

The word was pregnant with heavy meaning and held between the two of us. For a moment, I felt my mask slipping. This was not just another customer; he was neither the type that could be forced to hear a few coy words and driven off. There was something about this one that was dangerous.

Still, I couldn't let him see how he affected me. I tilted my head, dragging a finger slowly along the lapel of his jacket. "Anything," I repeated, letting the word linger. "Well, let's see if you're serious."

He stood, towering over me, and held out his hand. There was no hesitation in his movements, no second-guessing. I slipped my hand into his, feeling the strength in his grip, and let him lead me out of the club.

The cool night air brushed against my bare skin, but the chill didn't bother me. I was too focused on the man walking beside me. His presence was magnetic, pulling me in without effort.

We didn't speak on the way to his car. The silence wasn't uncomfortable-it was charged, alive with tension. He opened the passenger door for me, his hand brushing mine as I stepped in. That brief touch sent a spark through me, and I hated how much I liked it.

"You've been driving me crazy all night," he said, his voice rough.

I smirked, taking a step closer. "Oh? I thought you were the one in control."

That seemed to light a fire in him. His hands found my waist, pulling me against him with a force that made my breath hitch. His lips crashed into mine, hot and demanding, and I couldn't help but respond with equal intensity.

I slid my fingers into his hair, tugging lightly as his hands explored the curve of my body. His touch was possessive, leaving a trail of heat everywhere it landed.

We stumbled toward the bed, shedding layers as we went. The air between us was electric, every kiss, every touch igniting something deeper. When he finally laid me down, his gaze held mine, and for a moment, it felt like the world had disappeared.

"You're even more beautiful than I imagined," he murmured, his voice low and reverent.

A shiver ran through me, but I refused to let him see how much his words affected me. "Then stop imagining," I whispered, pulling him closer.

I touched through his messy mane of hair with my fingers-the strands thick and soft under my touch. Without thinking, I tugged him closer. A low growl rumbled from his chest, sending a thrill through me, echoing within it. His hands quickly found mine, moving over me like he tried to claim me with every inch of him.

There was no hesitation with him; it was urgent, demanding, as if he needed to have me at this moment. The heat from his suddenly seared my skin, drawing off my breath. My heart pounded hard, racing in my chest, but all I could focus on was him-his hands, his scent, the raw intensity in his eyes when he pulled back for just a second to look at me.

His lips traveled to my neck, biting and kissing in an almost desperate hunger that turned my insides into a melting pool of sweet reactions. I instinctively tilted my head to allow him more access and feel every inch of him against me. His breath was hot against my flesh, making me shiver with every whisper against my ear, words I couldn't quite catch but didn't need to. I felt them in every nerve.

I pulled him closer by his hair, my fingers gripping tighter, and he immediately met the instinctive pulling by pressing his body against mine. The weight of him behind me felt so solid that it grounded me-in control of the moment, of us. He was not gentle; he was possessive, determined to have me, to make this night his.

His lips trailed lower, kissing my collarbone, and I gasped at each touch-stoking more heat between us. He wasn't holding back, and I wasn't either. Each kiss, each movement felt as though it thought-wisps were pushing us to the edge of something neither of us wanted to stop.

I dived my finger deep into his skin on the first thrust in. The thrust was accompanied by a low-tone groan and a high-pitched moan that I couldn't suppress.

The first thrust, the second thrust, the third, and the fourth. The rhythm continued for a few minutes until he pulled out and sprung liquids on me from my tummy down to my thigh. He fell on the side of the bed. Both panting heavily with satisfaction.