Cunning Vows: Enemies to Lovers Dark Romance (Lethal Vows Book 3)
Chapter 18

I have to remember that I don’t want to throw her out of this car, even if she has an attitude problem. Her smell fills the small space. It’s like she’s suffocating me without even knowing the power she has over me.

And I’m fucking livid, and not even at her, though I should be after that little stunt she pulled. I’m furious with Igor and his men. How they treated her. I didn’t say anything because I know Anya can stand on her own two feet. But it doesn’t sit right in the subtle way they threatened her.

My hands grip the steering wheel so tightly, I think I might actually leave indents of my fingers in it. I still haven’t even put the car in drive. The silence in this suffocating car is grating on my nerves after my meeting with Igor. I look in the rearview mirror, and see them laughing and enjoying their cigarettes in what was a successful business deal.

Do I give a shit about forty million? Not really. Not if it means Igor might be tempted to come back to New York and replace Anya for some vengeance for his man.

I’m not thinking clearly, but this woman does something crazy to me.

“Still want to take me on your second business meeting?” she dares to ask. Always pushing me. Forever trying to get on my nerves. And it’s fucking working.

What’s forty million? I paid almost that just to have a taste of her. I can let a forty million deal go if I know it means no one will come after her. She can handle herself. I know that. But I can’t stop my raging possessiveness.

“How good is your boy’s shot?” I growl out.

A promiscuous smile reaches her lips. “The best.” And a silent plan forms between us.

“Leave Igor to me,” I say. Kicking open the car door and opening my trunk, I pull out a rifle.

Michael is going to chew my ass out for this, and I don’t fucking care. He doesn’t make the rules. I do.

The first security guy drops to his knees with a clean shot in his forehead. In my peripheral, I see Anya’s arm out the window, her hand in the shape of a gun. When she pulls her thumb down like a trigger, the next guy drops to his knees.

The third man is too late to pull out his gun as I blow out his brain, soiling the side of his car. Igor goes to pull out his own gun, but I already have the rifle pointed in his direction.

“What is the meaning of this?” he spits. “All for a pretty little cunt?”

Whatever my expression, I can tell it’s probably half crazed because his eyes go wide.

“You ever threaten to come after her again, I will replace you and do far worse than what I’ve done to your men.”

He holds his hands up slowly in surrender, confused as I walk up to him and put the tip of the rifle to his head.

“Why do you care? We’re just doing business,” he says, shocked at the turn of events.

Wrong answer.

He’s a man who still doesn’t understand that he’s about to meet his maker.

“So is this,” I say, stepping back and pulling the trigger. His overweight mass pushes into the side of his car. I won’t run the risk of Igor returning and targeting Anya. Unfortunately for him, I’m the only one allowed to chase her.

I sweep my gaze over the bodies, a tendril of adrenaline coursing through my veins. It wasn’t enough. Who could be the next person to come for her?

I internally slap myself. Anya is not a damsel in distress, and if I ever voice this out loud, she’d chop my balls off. I know she can look after herself.

It doesn’t make me any less inclined to step between her and any risk.

Fuck, I really have lost my mind, and all I had was a taste of her.

When I do fuck her… I know it’ll bring me to my knees.

I throw the rifle back into the trunk and slam it shut.

“Feel better?” she asks out the window.

“Call your men to clean up the mess,” I demand as I walk around to her side and open her door.

“Why?” she asks with her arms folded over her chest. That tight dress pulls on my last fucking nerve.

“Because your men started it.” I drop my gaze to the phone in her hand. “Call.”

She rolls her eyes, and if that’s not enough to be punishable, I don’t know what is. She presses a few buttons on her phone before she says, “The cleaners are ten minutes out. It will be taken care of.”

I have no doubt her men are capable. She is as vicious as she is beautiful. A cleanup crew at her disposal is expected. I bet Clay and Vance never remained more than ten minutes away, and it’s an entirely different team she calls for clean-up. She clicks her tongue. “You have blood all over your face.”

She pulls out a red handkerchief from her clutch. “Clean yourself up.”

“Lift your dress,” I command.

Her eyebrows lift, and she laughs. “As much as I enjoy blood sports, you will clean yourself first.”

I place my hands on the edge of the door and lean in so I’m only inches away from her face. “Then clean it for me since this is your fault.”

“My fault? You were the genius who thought bringing me here was a good idea.”

My jaw tics, and she sighs as she lifts the handkerchief slowly to my face and wipes. Our gazes never leave one another. My heart pounds from the adrenaline, and I need a release.

I need her.

No, if I give in to Anya Ivanov now, I will lose her.

But, fuck, do I need something.

“Care to tell me why you went all Rambo on them?”

“No,” I growl. My hands are wrapped so tightly around the edge of the car that I’m doing everything in my willpower to have restraint. This beautiful fucking she-devil in my car. Her perfume melting into it. She’s driving me crazy.

“I’ll show you my tits if you tell me,” she teases.

“You’ll show me them anyway,” I growl.

She laughs, but I notice the constriction at her throat first. “Can’t you just imagine me slamming into your cunt against the car right now? Being so deep that you can scream as loudly as you want out here.”

Her green eyes flash with want as she looks up at me through thick eyelashes. “I scream loudly wherever I am, but let’s be real. It’s not like many men can make me scream.”

My tongue licks over my lips as my cock grows uncomfortably in my trousers. Her gaze drifts to my crotch, then those devastating eyes shift back to me.

Fuck this woman and the spell she’s cast on me.

“Give me a taste, and I’ll tell you.”

She rolls her eyes. “You and your tasting. What do you think you are, a fucking connoisseur?”

I grab her cheeks, squeezing so those fuckable lips are my entire focus. “You eye roll me one more fucking time, and there will be consequences.”

Her gaze promises sex. Everything about this woman oozes sex.

She drops the handkerchief, and her hand pulls down on her dress, revealing those perfectly pierced tits.

My cock needs to be buried deep inside her. But if I fuck her, I know I won’t have enough of her. It means our agreement will be over in a blink of an eye, because if I’m in her only once, I won’t be able to contain myself. And then we’re done. But if I can limit myself—no, torture myself—to just a taste, it might take the edge off.

I release my grip as I drop to my knees. I don’t care if the fucking ground is wet from the rain. This woman has me so wrapped around her pinkie, and in the way she stares at me, she fucking knows it.

“If I’m a connoisseur, then I specialize in sweets because your cunt is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

At this angle, her gaze pierces through the dark night with only the interior car light acting like a halo around her. But she’s anything but angelic.

I lean into her, licking over the bars pierced in her nipples. A small moan escapes her as she watches me, but her hand slowly reaches out to grab my shirt and pull me closer.

I’m not the only one who’s been holding out, it would seem.

Good.

I suck on her perfect nipples, gripping her thigh tightly to anchor her, as if any moment she might go up in smoke like she never existed.

“You owe me one truth,” she says with a tight breath.

I spread her legs and keep my hand on her chest to push her back. She holds the edge of the leather seat and dashboard as I smirk at the welcome of this short dress and, of course, no panties.

Fucking perfection. I push her dress farther up so her bare ass rests on my leather, and dip my tongue between her folds. So fucking perfect.

“You’re already wet for me, Red,” I say as I taste her.

“Stop speaking,” she says as she feathers her fingers through my hair and pushes my head down. I’m more than happy to oblige as I devour every bit she gives me. I insert a finger, eliciting a moan from her and then a second as I pump into her.

I slide my hand from her tit to her throat and hold her in place.

“Fuck,” she says as her head rolls back, and she gives in to me little by little.

My cock pushes painfully against my trousers. I’m creating my own misery. But I know for Anya, sex is simply transactional. She’s someone who loves the high of it, the power play, and it’s not something I’m willing to give her yet because I haven’t made her mine. And I’ll be fucked if I’m letting this she-devil slip through my fingers.

I’ll bind, gag, and trap her in a basement somewhere before I let her go.

“Let me ride you,” she demands, and goes to move, but I keep her in place by my hand at her throat.

Oh, Anya, how I would like nothing more than to watch that perfect body of yours bounce on my dick.

Fuck, I’m getting more addicted with every taste.

This beautiful fucking woman is so used to men being on their knees for her, but I doubt she’s actually felt anything past physical attraction and domination. I’m hellbent to be her first and only she’ll feel anything deeper with. I’ll make her beg for it.

I pull away and bite her inner thigh. Another moan escapes her with one more lick, savoring the taste of her.

Her eyes fly open as I retract my hand from her throat and get up from my knees, my pants now wet.

“What the fuck? You can’t be serious,” she hisses. “Get back on your knees now.”

I graze my thumb across her sharp cheekbone in admiration. I want to gag her on my cock, use those sweet lips for what they were made for.

“Igor would’ve come for you eventually. That’s why I shot him. I think it’s fair you owe me a proper date since I turned down a forty-million-dollar deal for you.”

She slaps my hand away, a wild fury taking over. She’s sexually frustrated, and it gives me satisfaction to know she took my rule seriously.

No one else is to touch her.

No one but me.

“I don’t owe you shit. I also don’t need you protecting me or my honor. I can handle myself, Lake.” She grabs her clutch and shoves me out of the way as she adjusts her dress.

“I wasn’t defending your honor. I was securing my chance of having more tastes of you, if I’m being honest,” I tell her. “Can’t do that if you’re dead, now, can I?”

“That’s fucking presumptuous, thinking you can have a taste whenever you please,” she snaps.

I cock an eyebrow with a smug smile. “I do believe I was between your legs less than a minute ago. Now, get back in the car.”

Any tension from earlier has eased, and I stand back and enjoy the beauty that she is while she’s a seething, venom-spitting she-devil.

“Fuck you. I did what I came here for,” she says as she begins walking away.

“Get in the car, Anya. I can drive you home. You can’t very well walk all the way there.”

A set of high-beam headlights silhouette her perfect figure, and I curse myself. I should’ve known her guards would be close, but I hadn’t even noticed them creeping up.

“Get in the car, Anya.”

“Bye, Lake. I hope you have a collision on your drive back home.” She flips me off.

I can’t help but smile as I place my hands in my pockets.

Under any other circumstances, I would’ve killed the closest person to me if a forty-million-dollar deal slipped through my fingers. But, somehow, I replace far more value in watching Red walk away pissed off.

“Good night, Anya,” I call out.

She slams the door without so much as another word, and I replace myself laughing.

When was the last time I’ve had this much fun?

Have I ever wanted anything this badly?