Blackwood’s Claimed Luna
A smirk.
The man was smirking at me while he came inside another woman.
“Enjoying the view?” His voice carried across the room, smooth and mocking.
The woman’s head snapped up. She twisted to look over her shoulder, saw me standing there, and her face drained of color.
“Oh goddess,” she breathed.
“Don’t worry, darling.” Lucian finally withdrew, the movement deliberate and obscene. He disposed the condom he was using and tucked himself back into his pants with casual efficiency. “I’m sure our new security consultant has seen worse. Haven’t you, Miss Sinclair?”
Bab Populer