Chapter 2

Rico

Seeing Sandra here in Club Red might as well have been a dream come true.

To say I’ve wanted her since she started working for me is a massive understatement; I wanted her the moment I laid eyes on her. And I’m not used to not getting what I want.

She’s been working under me for over a year—long enough to prove she’s the best damn personal assistant I’ve ever had. Most don’t last a week, but Sandra stuck it out through my stormy moments, my cold spells, and every ruthless, savage step I’ve taken to ensure I come out on top.

I own Club Red, but Vital Tech is my lifeblood. She’s my lifeline there, her finger on the pulse, disarming clients, putting investors at ease, roping in grown men with a smile.

I don’t care that she works for me. PR nightmares? Irrelevant. Losing my position? Laughable. Money talks, and I use every asset to get what I want.

And I want Sandra.

But nothing has worked. Not yet.

Now, she trembles in my arms, her scent thick with heat and arousal. She’s hot, ready to be taken. Vanilla bean perfume floods my senses, leaving me greedy for more.

“Watch them.” My voice is gentle, but it’s not a request. Her attention flicks to the writhing bodies around us—fucking, sweating, getting off.

Hunter—a fellow billionaire and, if I had such things, a friend—catches Sandra’s gaze. He grips the back of a girl’s head, shoving his cock deep into her throat. A choked sound escapes the woman as Sandra shivers in my arms, eyes locked on them.

“Who is she?” Wrong question. She should be asking who he is. Hunter isn’t a man to be trifled with, and the way he’s looking at her tells me she’s not safe from his desires.

“I’m not sure.” I don’t know most of the women here. The ones I do either get special treatment or are cut loose.

“Oh.” Surprise laces her voice, but her thoughts scatter when I run my fingertips up her throat, brushing her hair away from her ear. She shudders, still staring as Hunter spills down the woman’s throat. His sharp gaze lands on Sandra, and I watch goosebumps rise along her arms, up her chest, to her neck.

“Go,” Hunter commands.

The woman nods, standing with a lazy confidence, her naked curves glowing under red lights. She thumbs the corner of her mouth as if wiping a drop of cum before sauntering off. Hunter adjusts his pants, buckling his belt as he approaches Sandra—who instinctively steps back. Right into me.

I don’t let her move.

Hunter stops before her, his gaze sliding to mine as he speaks past her. “Is this a new treat?” His dark voice sends another shiver through her. His eyes rake over her clothed body, assessing.

“No.” I glance down at Sandra, making sure the weight of my words settles on her shoulders. “Unless she’d like to be.”

Her pulse hammers at the base of her throat. Lips part. A quick shake of her head. “Uh, no, that’s not for me. Sorry. Thanks.”

I hold her steady, her soft curves pressing against the front of my pants. She’s not thinking straight—understandable, given the circumstances. A sweet virgin like her? Never been sandwiched between two men who’d ruin her, use her until she begged for mercy. But her breathing says it all. The way her pulse flutters. She’s overwhelmed. Excited.

“That’s too bad.” Hunter sounds genuinely disappointed, his gaze drinking her in before narrowing, sending a ripple of unease through her.

Good girl.

She should be scared. Hunter is like me—a self-made man with more money than morality, skeletons locked tight in closets, secrets buried deep.

Sandra inhales sharply, her body responding before her mind catches up. Excitement and fear blend into a scent I know too well. She’s young.

Too young?

At thirty-two, I should know better than to crave a twenty-four-year-old. But Sandra breaks all the rules by following every single one.

I have no doubt—she’s a virgin. Never had a serious relationship. Saving herself for marriage.

Not because she lacks desire.

No, she’s just been repressing it.

And that makes me want her even more.

I want to show her what she’s been missing.

I know Hunter can feel that side of her too, and he seems as intent on breaking her free as I am.

“Maybe I could change your mind.” Hunter’s words aren’t a question. He steps in closer, pinning her body to mine. We’ve shared women before, but this feels different.

Sandra shakes her head, silent.

She’s a lamb in a wolf’s den. I want her. Hunter wants her. Plenty of men here would take her without hesitation. Hell, with her untouched state, many would pay obscene amounts just to be the first. But I’ve kept that little detail to myself. No one else needs to know.

“Are you sure there's nothing I can do to change your mind?” Hunter pushes again, and an odd, protective surge rises in me.

I don’t want Hunter to touch her.

“She said no. Back off.” I nod at the red lights—reminding him of the club’s rules. If he won’t respect them, he can leave. Friend or not.

No one gets a second warning here.

Hunter raises his hands in surrender, eyes narrowing. “I hear you loud and clear, boss.”

I’ve overplayed my hand. Now that he knows she’s important, he won’t back off—not until he knows why or wins her over himself.

He saunters off, and I turn to Sandra. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”

Of course, talking is the furthest thing from my mind. But I won’t scare my little rabbit when she’s already so close I can taste her.

She nods. I guide her toward the doors. I lean in. “Red means follow the club rules.” I gesture to another door. “Blue means orgies—everyone is welcome.”

She startles, but I steer her through the red door, then into a private corridor.

“What does purple mean?” She shivers. I catch her biting her lip, regretting the question. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

She’s lying. She wants to know.

I swipe my access key card, unlocking a room without a viewing window. Here, we’re alone. No interruptions. No one enters without the right key.

She steps inside, mouth slightly open. Despite the room’s purpose, it's elegant—an oversized black platform bed, anchored silks hanging from the ceiling. Recessed LED strips bathe the space in warm light, chasing away shadows.

She reaches for the silks, threading them through her fingers. “This is beautiful.”

“Some women like to hang during sex, some like to be bound, others like to brace themselves for certain activities.”

She jerks her hand back, shocked.

I take a slow step closer. The door locks behind me.

“Have you ever succumbed to your own desire?” My fingertips trail lightly up her arm. A shiver runs through her, goosebumps rising over her exposed flesh.

She’s prim and proper—silk blouse, knee-length pencil skirt, smart flats. Her brown hair pulled back, blue eyes staring at me from a makeup-free face. Her lips are parted, breaths shallow, chest rising and falling in a very distracting rhythm.

“What…?” she whispers.

“You heard me.” I close the distance. “Have you ever wanted a cock so badly you'd do anything to get it?”

Her body reacts to my words.

“I… I don’t know what you’re asking…” Her voice trembles.

She’s not fooling me. She knows exactly what I’m asking.

“Why hold back?” I murmur, fingers trailing through the hair at the base of her neck. She shivers. “Why not give in to your hunger?”

She swallows hard. I fist her hair, giving a slight tug. Her lips part further, a sharp exhale slipping past them. I pull her body toward me, my cock so fucking hard I can barely contain it.

Her wide eyes meet mine. She feels the shift in the air.

“Are you ready for me to show you what you’re missing?” I whisper.

She trembles as I pull her closer, her lips so near I feel her breath. Cinnamon—sweet and spicy, her favorite mints.

She leans into me, no resistance. She’s off-balance—without my hold, she’d fall at my feet.

“I…” Her gaze flickers to my lips.

Damn, I want to kiss her.

I know she'd give in. But I don’t want surrender.

I want her to need me so badly she begs. Pleads.

I want to hear her lips beg me to take her virginity.