Chapter 5 I don't want you to stop

~ IVANOV ~

I was in the middle of a small meeting with a client at the VIP when three women walked in, their presence slicing through the smoke-filled room like a knife.

They slid into the table on my left. My eyes caught them immediately, but it was the one in the middle-the red-haired beauty from the party-that froze me in my tracks. Druscilla Hayes.

My enemy's fiancée.

Fate really had a wicked sense of humor.

Believe me or not, I didn't follow her here. I came on my own, wrapped up in the grind with a client who had paid a fortune for me to help him hack Interpol's logs. But apparently, I didn't need to stalk tonight. She had delivered herself straight into my line of sight.

I couldn't hear a single word my client was saying. My gaze was glued to her-Druscilla, moving with a reckless grace, taking shots, swaying her body as though she owned the world. She had no idea. She had no idea how hot she looked. No idea someone was watching her with hunger that bordered on obsession.

I had heard the stories about her, about the Hayes family-strict, disciplined, holier-than-thou types. And here she was, in a place that went against everything she had been raised to believe in. It was thrilling.

No, more than thrilling. Electrifying.

My eyes roamed over her body. She looked stunning in that dress, but I could tell she was uncomfortable. A tight corset, maybe, or just the eyes of a room full of strangers. And yet, every move she made had me leaning closer, wanting more.

The brunette with her got up and walked to the stage, announcing something. And that's when I got a proper look at the blonde sitting next to her, laughing and smiling-the same blonde Isaac Kaene had been parading around.

So she was Druscilla's friend? I couldn't believe it.

Isaac. What a cheap, lying bastard. Two friends, a proposal to one, a secret fling with the other. He was a real piece of work.

I had planned to ruin Druscilla's relationship with him eventually, but until now, I'd done nothing. Tonight, though, the temptation to press that button was irresistible. He didn't deserve her. Not in the slightest.

I scrolled through my phone, ignoring my client completely, searching for every scrap of information on Druscilla Hayes.

Then I saw it. Tonight was her birthday.

"You haven't been listening to me?" Vincent frowned, his voice cutting through my haze.

I tore my gaze away from the screen to meet his. Vincent had been a client for five years-a politician with a cold face and an even colder heart, steeped in corruption and money laundering.

"Let's talk business tomorrow," I said casually, pulling out a cigarette.

"Come on, Ivan. That's bullshit," he protested, frustration etched into his sharp features.

I lit the cigarette, ignoring him.

"Tomorrow, Vincent."

He shook his head, scowling, and walked away, muttering under his breath. I didn't care. He'd be back. He always came back. Tonight, my attention belonged to one thing: Druscilla Hayes.

I called my assistant immediately.

"Pedro," I said, voice clipped. "Get a beautiful cake in five minutes and deliver it to this location."

"Yes, boss," Pedro replied without hesitation.

"One more thing," I added. "Open my drawer and put that surprise in the cake. I'll text you what to write on it."

"Understood. On it immediately," he said.

Five minutes later, my men delivered the cake. I watched from a distance as Druscilla's face lit up. That smile... hell, it made my chest tighten. Contagious, radiant, and entirely hers.

I bet she thought it was from Isaac.

They sang, cut the cake. Her smile faded. Slowly, the glow vanished, replaced by a frown when she saw my gift. Her hands trembled as she held the picture inside.

A little thrill twisted in my chest. She needed to know the truth. That cheating, worthless bastard didn't deserve her. I'd planted the seed; now I'd wait for it to grow.

Her eyes glistened, a tremble in her lips, as though tears might fall any second.

But then chaos erupted. Shots rang out. People screamed and scattered, diving for cover.

I looked around, instinct kicking in. The shooters weren't mine. They were small-time gangs with old grudges.

I rose, gun pinned to my belt. My eyes searched for her. She wasn't on the stage anymore. My heart skipped. I needed her safe.

I found her crouched under a table, phone in hand, fear written all over her face. Not dumb, that one. But not safe either.

I lifted her into my arms. The look of terror in her eyes only tightened my grip. Out we went, shielded by my body, moving through the chaos.

Outside, Isaac had arrived-but not for her. For the blonde. Perfect.

My mind raced. My safe nest. That's where she belonged.

So here we were, in my suite. I couldn't take my eyes off her. My hands itched to explore every inch of her body. I was supposed to be the predator, seducing her, showing her what a man like me could do. But it wasn't me controlling this anymore.

"Touch me," she whispered, her voice fragile and raw. Like an angel in need.

Her eyes begged.

I obeyed. My fingers traced over her thigh, feeling the delicate lace beneath my touch.

"Oh God..." she moaned.

I didn't stop. I pushed further, sliding a finger inside her. She was drenched, every movement begging for more.

Her shiver was delicious. "Oh... yes... uhm... you..."

I smiled, amused and aroused. Her face, the way she melted under my touch, was intoxicating.

I thumbed her clit, keeping a steady rhythm. Her moans grew, filling the room with the sound of want and surrender.

Just as she teetered on the edge, I pulled back. Her eyes opened, fluttering, wide and desperate.

"What?" she asked, voice shaking.

"What do you want, Doll?" I murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I don't want you to stop," she whispered, voice trembling.

"Unfortunately, Doll... this is all I can do... unless you want me to fuck you," I said, letting a smirk tug at my lips.

"Fuck me... please," she whimpered.

I slid her lace panties down and tucked them into my pocket. She wrapped her legs around me as I carried her to my king-sized bed.

I lowered her gently, pressing my weight against her, her legs splayed, inviting me. My cock hardened at the sight, the wet heat that called to me.

I wanted her. All of her. I wanted to mark her, consume her, erase Isaac from her life entirely.

"Damn, you look so... delicious," I groaned. My voice low, hoarse with need.

She blushed, looked away shyly. I lowered myself, teasing, not going further.

"What?" she lifted her gaze, needy. "Fuck me already."

"I want to fuck you when you're sober," I said, voice rough with want, the tension between us crackling like electricity.