Page 7 of Big Beefy Kingpin

Her eyes shoot to mine. “Were you doing this to test me?”

“If I was, then you failed.”

She visibly swallows, her eyes darting to the exit but I am not about to let her leave. I don’t even know her name yet but there is no denying just how much I want her.

Need pulses under my skin and my cock throbs behind my fly just from watching her throat work. Her smooth and sensual jasmine scent draws me in.

“You… you’re the one who cheated,” she tries but her defense is weak at best. I did cheat through the game, but I was better and more discreet than she was. Even so, I can’t deny how impressive she was, and that only adds to my desire for her.

I step closer to her, smirking when her body shudders hard against mine.

“I don’t like it when little girls think they can trick me,” I whisper into her hair, ignoring our audience.

"I’m not a little girl,” she says. “I’m twenty-one.”

Well, that answers the question about her being underage. “You’re still little to me. Do you want to know what I do to them when I catch them?”

Her lips part and she lets out a shaky breath at my words but doesn’t respond to my question. She doesn’t need to, not when her body is communicating everything I need to know.

“I can let you have your winnings but first, I’ll have to teach you a lesson so you don’t go around thinking that cheating is okay.”

“A lesson,” she mutters under her breath, but I catch the words.

“It’s up to you, of course, leave with nothing or take your punishment like a good girl,” I rasp, pushing back away from her. Mourning the loss of the feel of her body against mine, but this is her decision to make. I rake my eyes over her body, swallowing back the need to lean in and pull her flush against me.

We are in public and I need to hold myself in check.

I take another step away from her before turning around and walking away. For a second, I am convinced that she will flee without her winnings, but then I hear the quick patter of heels as she hurries down the hallway to catch up with me.

I hold back a smirk as I head toward the dark marble private elevator, my heart hammering in my chest when she stops next to me.

Neither of us says a word when I place my index finger on the scanner, gaining immediate access. The doors open silently and I walk in, meeting her gaze in a silent challenge.

She hesitates, but only for a second, before walking in to stand beside me.

The ride to my private lounge is quick but the tension between us only works to send heat down my body and it takes everything in me not to push her against the elevator doors and ravish her.

I have more patience than this.

When the silver doors slide open to reveal the chrome and white that is my private lounge, I place a hand on the small of her back and guide her into the well-lit room. Unlike the room where I met the Irish, this is more private and only accessible to my most trusted men.

I watch her look around, trying to view the room through her eyes but the exotic rugs and floor-to-ceiling windows with the view of the city below have long since ceased to impress me.

As someone born into power and money, very little impresses me but looking at her… I’m enthralled.

“Would you like something to drink?” I ask, walking toward the couch closest to the window. I grab the pack on the table and draw one cigar before planting it on my lips and lighting it.

“No, I… I don’t want anything. I think I’ve had enough to drink tonight,” she says, walking deeper into the room and I let her.

“Where did you learn to play like that?” I ask, lowering myself to the couch.

The girl whirls around to face me, something akin to stubbornness etched on her face. “I don’t want to talk. You didn’t bring me here to talk.”

I smirk at the fire in her eyes. The way she’s trying and failing to hide her nerves turns me on even more.

“Indeed,” I rasp, blowing thick smoke into the air. “Strip.”

Her eyes widen in shock at my words. “You… you want me to… get naked?”

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