Page 17 of Vicious Vows

“Anything. You say it—I’ll do it.” She feels good against my body, and if offering a smidgen of my fortune will ease her conscience and keep her happy, I’ll do it. She’s beginning to grow on me, and I’m not quite ready to give that up.

“Like childhood cancer research?”

“Done,” I tell her, kissing her cheek. “And for as good as you are at what you do, you should be doing more of it. Imagine bankrupting the Russian crime syndicate and giving all their millions of dollars to hospitals to cure cancer. Micah, you couldsave the world.” I add some fuel to her fire. She’s a smart woman, though, and can’t be manipulated, but this isn’t a manipulation. It’s merely my attempt to encourage her to chase something she excels at while helping others at the same time.

“You really like to break the rules, don’t you?” she asks, now looking up at me. She’s not that much shorter than I am, but the way her chin tips upward leaves just enough room for me to kiss her if she lingers in this position.

“Rules are meant to be broken.” I watch her eyes dart between my lips and my eyes, and I feel something stirring in me.

“Prove it,” she whispers, and then she steps back from me, bowing at the shoulders, and smirks. Her eyelashes bat a few times, and she turns away, tapping a waiter on the shoulder as he passes. She says something, and he points to the hallway near the back where I know the bathrooms are.

My dick twitches as she walks away, that red dress hugging the curve of her ass like it was made just for her body. This little vixen has something up her sleeve, and it’s making my blood pump, and that blood is all going one place. I start after her, prowling behind her hips as they sway.

“Keep the food warm,” I tell the waiter, seeing he’s carrying our meal, and I duck into the hallway too.

I guess dessert comes before the meal tonight.

13

MICAH

The instant he took that cuff off me in the car, my plan was simple—make a daring escape and never come back. But the compliments? And dancing? Not to mention the very generous offer of giving ten percent of his—my—work to a charity of my choosing… Luke Santoro is a charmer—and a snake. And what’s worse is, he’s turning me into one too. Stealing from the criminal underworld to profit the less fortunate in life is not my idea of actually helping anyone. It makes me a criminal just like him.

So, why am I leading him toward the bathroom for spontaneous sex in a public place? And how does he have so much power over my body?

People watch me walk past. I’m the weird woman who danced with a man in a restaurant that has no dancing. Or maybe it’s because he’s following me? I can feel his eyes on me, not too far behind, but not too close, either. I weave through tables and into the back hallway and reach for the women’s restroom door knob, only to find it locked. But before I can even react, Luke is here,wrapping a hand around my waist and ushering me deeper into the hallway to the men’s room.

“Mia cara, you’re pushing my buttons,” he growls into my ear as he forces me through the door. I hear the lock click behind us, and then he’s on me, pawing at my dress, nipping the skin on my shoulder. The stubble from his chin scrapes along my skin, teasing me, and my groin warms with anticipation.

“God, how do you do this to me?” I ask him, turning to face him as he shimmies my skirt up higher on my thighs. My hands flutter to his chest where his heart hammers against his ribcage.

Luke's eyes, dark and smoldering, meet mine as he pauses in his frenzied movements. The playful glint that usually resides in them is gone, replaced by an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. "It's a talent," he replies, a sardonic smile flashing across his face before he dives back into his task.

My shoulders hit the cold tiles of the bathroom wall as he pins me in place, his hands pressing against my hips with an unspoken command that I stay put. He sinks to his knees, and I gasp at the sudden change in position. My hands tangle in his hair and I'm overcome. His eyes never leaving mine, his fingers curl around the hem of my panties. The intimate fabric slides away, leaving a trail of goosebumps along my skin before he lifts a leg and drapes it over his shoulders.

His breath is hot against my core, sending shivers throughout my body. My fingers tighten in his hair as he presses small kisses to the insides of my thighs, the taunting touch eliciting soft gasps from my lips. The anticipation is sweet agony as I watch him with hooded eyes, his own gaze dark with desire.

Just as I think I can't stand another second of waiting, he moves closer, his tongue sliding over me with a gentleness that seems almost in contradiction with the man himself. The shockwave of pleasure that rolls through me is enough to make my knees buckle, and I find myself clutching onto him tighter, silently imploring him not to stop.

“Oh, fuck. Yes,” I moan, and my voice seems magnified by the tile walls around me. As if everyone in this restaurant can hear my moans of pleasure.

His fingers dig into my hips, holding me steady as his ministrations become more focused, more deliberate. It's like he knows exactly what will drive me over the edge—and he's using that knowledge without mercy. Licking, sucking, nipping at my skin, his mouth on my pussy stimulates a desire for him I’ve been pushing away all day long.

His actions become a blur. All I can focus on are the feelings, the raw sensuality of the situation. I press my back harder against the cool wall, shuddering with each sweep of his tongue. The dull hum of activity outside the bathroom door fades into nothingness as my world narrows down to this moment. To him.

Suddenly, I feel his fingers enter me. I gasp, the feeling overtaking me, and my grip tightens on his hair even more. Luke chuckles against my skin, the sound vibrating through me and this entire room. His movements increase in pace, and he attacks my sensitive nub with an intensity that pushes my pleasure higher and higher until my world spins, tilting on its axis.

The guttural moan that escapes me is swallowed by the harsh sounds of the dining room beyond the door. Grinding against hismouth, I curl my fingers in his hair, tugging him closer as every nerve ending in my body throbs with ecstasy.

“Shit,” I hiss, watching his tongue dart in and out of his mouth and dance across my most sensitive parts. He’s good at this, so good I’m coming undone, begging to come on his face.

His fingers move in a rhythm, a dance as synchronized as our earlier one on the floor, but this one is infinitely more intimate. His tongue follows the rhythm, lapping at me, drawing out sensations that have me whimpering, ready to go weak at the knees. The pleasure peaks, and I cry out as an orgasm tears through me. He doesn't let up, eating me through my climax until the pulsating pleasure becomes almost too much to bear.

“Luke…” His name rolls off my tongue in a breathless gasp, a plea for mercy that goes unheard as he continues his relentless assault, basking in my surrender.

When the waves of sensation finally begin to ebb, I slump back against the wall, spent and sated. I feel him rise to his feet, his fingers tracing one last path up my thigh before they enter his mouth. He licks them clean, and then his hands cup my face, tilting it upward as he leans in and kisses me deeply.

I can taste myself on his lips, a stark reminder of what just transpired between us. "My turn," he murmurs against my lips, his voice a husky whisper that sends another shiver down my spine, but for entirely different reasons this time. I manage to let out a weak nod, too blissed out to form actual words.

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