Sienna
I couldn't tell if it was the alcohol coursing through my veins or Alexander Grayson himself that sent a shiver tearing through my body.
Devil's Den.
And what was I now? The prey?
"What... what do you want?" I stammered, his body heat so close to mine that it was nearly suffocating. The pain in my chest throbbed, sharp and relentless, clouding my thoughts. I wasn't supposed to find comfort in Alex's presence, yet my traitorous body leaned into the warmth he radiated.
I could feel the tension in his muscles through his shirt, the heat of him pressed against my back. With every steady breath he took, his body stiffened further, his desire becoming palpable.
"I should be the one asking you that question," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that sent goosebumps cascading over my skin. His breath teased the sensitive curve of my neck, and I clenched my fists to keep steady. "What do you want, Sienna?"
The question left me speechless. What did I want? At that moment, I wanted anything—anything to distract me from the pain clawing at my chest like a thousand tiny vipers. I wanted to feel numb. I wanted to forget I was broken.
"Do you think you can help?" The words escaped me before I could stop them, trembling in the air between us.
I felt his smirk against my skin before I saw it, his lips curving in amusement as he brushed my hair aside. The tip of his nose trailed down the back of my neck, slow and deliberate, drawing an involuntary shudder from me.
"If you allow me to," he whispered, his grip tightening as he pulled me even closer. My body betrayed me entirely, pressed against his, my heavy breathing giving away the storm inside me.
"It didn't take my permission to order your guards to throw my ex out," I bit out, anger lacing my words despite the tremor in my voice. "So why the hesitation now?"
"So you figured that out," he said with a husky chuckle, his tone both amused and impressed.
It wasn't hard to connect the dots after I'd learned Alexander Grayson owned this club.
"Such a clever little thing," he mused, his fingers tracing a slow, maddening path from my hand to my arm, lingering at my exposed collarbone. I sucked in a shaky breath as heat flared across my skin. "Yet you fell for someone like Ryatt. What a shame. A woman like you deserves better than a man who uses a forgotten key as an excuse to buy his side chick—your so-called best friend Kelly—the same dress as yours."
The words hit me like a slap, my breath stalling. I turned sharply to face him, my chest tightening with anger. "What did you just say?"
He gazed down at me, his eyes dark and unrelenting, one hand settling firmly on my hip. The proximity was dizzying, his warm breath brushing against my face.
"You heard me, flower," he said, his voice soft but unyielding. "The day you went shopping for your birthday, and that piece of shit you call a boyfriend claimed he forgot his keys? He used that time to buy Kelly a dress to match yours. Meanwhile, he couldn't be bothered to spend a single cent on you."
My anger rose and I felt a burn throughout my chest.
That piece of shit....
"Do...do you have proof?" The words barely left my lips.
He chuckled, a low sound that dripped with inevitability, as though he'd been waiting for my question. "Of course, I do."
His arm remained firmly wrapped around my waist as he retrieved his phone, his movements deliberate. A few swipes, and then he turned the screen toward me. My heart stopped.
The video played out like a cruel revelation—the same day, the same store. Ryatt walked in with Kelly, his hand guiding her like she was the center of his universe. They browsed, laughed, and finally settled on a dress he picked with. The same attention I had once dreamed he'd give to me.
Tears stung my eyes, hot and unrelenting. I turned away, unable to watch any longer, my breathing ragged. Shame coiled around me like a vice. I'd been such a pathetic stupid bitch.
How could I have been so blind? So stupid? Every sign, every warning, I had ignored them all for the sake of love that wasn't even real.
Alex slipped his phone back into his pocket, his smirk faint but cutting. "So, do you believe me now?"
Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. Anger simmered beneath my skin, blending with the raw ache in my chest. But beneath that, something else began to stir—a fire. A relentless, untamed fire.
And from its flames, a question rose, unbidden and fierce. "How can you help me, Grayson?"
His piercing blue eyes darkened, a wicked glint sparking within them. Slowly, he raised a hand and brushed his thumb against my trembling bottom lip. The touch sent an electric jolt through me, sharp and intoxicating.
"The kind of help you need right now," he murmured, his voice low and rough. He pulled me closer, his breath fanning against my cheek. "Or should I say... what your body is asking for."
My breath hitched. "Can you understand what it's asking for?"
His lips hovered dangerously close to mine, our breaths tangling in the charged space between us. "I can read you pretty damn well, Sienna Blake," he growled, his voice dripping with certainty. "Like the back of my fucking hand."
"Then what are you waiting for?" My voice dropped, deep and daring as I stared into his eyes.
"For you to say yes."
"And what am I saying yes to?"
"You'll find out soon enough, Flower," he said, tilting my chin up so our eyes locked. The raw hunger in his gaze made my pulse quicken, a shiver skittering down my spine. "But if you want this... you have to say yes."
I didn't know if it was the alcohol, the magnetic pull of Alexander Grayson, or something buried deep within me that made the word slip out. "Yes," I breathed, my voice trembling.
A breathtaking smirk spread across his face, and in that moment, I saw him for what he truly was—dangerously beautiful. The kind of beauty that made the world shrink and fade away. A face that could make you lose yourself.
Perhaps that's how he had so many women at his feet. And now, I was willingly adding myself to the list.
His hands slid beneath my legs, lifting me effortlessly. My legs wrapped around his hips as though it was the most natural thing in the world. He didn't spare a glance at the crowd around us.
With purposeful strides, he carried me out of the chaos and into a room. Probably his office. I didn't care. I didn't want to care.
He set me down on his desk, his body pressing into mine as he stood between my thighs. His hand came up to wrap around my throat, firm but not suffocating, his lips brushing against mine as his breath fanned over my skin. "You've always been the kind of woman men would die for, flower," he whispered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine. His lips trailed a deliberate path along my jaw to the curve of my neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake."But I don't understand..." he murmured, his lips grazing under my jaw before moving lower, his words vibrating against my skin, "why you keep throwing yourself at assholes."
He pressed a lingering kiss to my neck, then lower, at the edge of my cleavage. A soft moan slipped past my lips before I could stop it, and I gripped the edge of the desk tighter, as though it could ground me.
"Are you calling yourself an asshole, too?" I managed to ask, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
He chuckled, low and wicked, his eyes meeting mine with a predatory gleam. "Maybe," he said, tightening his grip on my throat slightly, just enough to send a wave of heat coursing through me. He bit down on my bottom lip, rolling it between his teeth before releasing it. My thighs instinctively clenched, but it was useless—he was already between them, and the hard evidence of his arousal pressed against me, daunting.
"Still the same feisty thing you are, Sienna," He said, before his hand slid beneath my dress, fingers curling around my thighs with a possessive grip. "I always knew that scumbag couldn't treat you right," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly as his lips traced a slow path from my jaw to my neck. "Still can't figure out what you ever saw in him."
I drew in a shaky breath as his hands moved higher, fingertips brushing the band of my panties, sending a jolt of heat through me.
"Women like you are prizes, Sienna," he whispered against my lips, the words melting into my skin. My grip on his shirt tightened, knuckles white. "And prizes? They're meant to be fucking claimed. Owned."
In the haze of intoxication, Alexander Grayson looked like the most beautiful thing on Earth—or perhaps he really was.
"Can... can you make me forget about Ryatt?" I breathed, my voice trembling.
A smirk tugged at his lips, dark and predatory, as his hand slid inside my panties, finding the heat of my wet, aching pussy. A soft moan escaped me, and I clung to him, every nerve alight."I'll make you forget about yourself, flower," with that he crushed his lips to mine. Stealing the breath from my lungs and pulling me under, into him, into the fire.
