Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
But my God…
I’m ready again, and judging by the size of Victor’s cock, so is he.
You came here for a purpose, Hannah. You can’t spend the entire time fucking Victor Rogan. That from the angel on my right shoulder.
But part of the purpose is to seduce him. From the devil on the left.
If we never get out of bed, I won’t be able to investigate the double murders. At least now I know where Rogan’s office is on the main floor. And I’ve been to his suite. I can find it again. Whatever evidence he has will be in those places, probably in a safe.
Safes are no problem for me. Vampires have excellent hearing.
I turn toward Rogan.
His cock is hard and jutting out perpendicular from his supine body.
And I’m ready to go again.
I climb on top of him.
He opens his eyes. “Ready for round two already, princess?”
I sink down on him, letting him burn through me. I’m tight from my orgasm, and his dick is like a flaming torch.
“God, yes,” he groans, closing his eyes once more.
I move slowly, gyrating my hips and taking him deeply inside of me and then rising, teasing him with my pussy lips.
“Fuck, princess.”
“That’s what I’m doing.” I continue slowly, relishing each inch of him as I take him into my body.
He grabs my breasts, squeezes them, thumbs one nipple. A jolt of electric current surges into me, and I increase my speed, fucking him harder.
“That’s it, princess. Fuck me. Fuck me good. God, your tits are gorgeous.” He tweaks one nipple.
A white haze clouds my vision. I’m ready. Ready to climax again. Ready to—
No!
My phone is on silent, safe in my clutch that’s… Where is it? Rogan brought me back here. I don’t know where he put it.
But it’s ringing.
On silent and hidden in my purse.
I normally wouldn’t hear it, but I do. Which only means one thing.
Daddy’s calling.
I slide off of Victor, willing myself not to whimper at the loss of completeness I feel.
“Princess?”
“Sorry. I have to get that.”
“Get what?”
“My phone.”
“I don’t hear any phone.”
“Trust me. It’s ringing.”
“Vamps may have great hearing, but I guarantee you wolves have better.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Get back here, princess. Get back here and finish what you started. I want you. I need you.”
I freeze. Seriously freeze in my tracks, midway between Rogan on the bed and my leather clutch that I finally see draped on a chair by the bathroom door.
An invisible force pulls me back toward the bed while another pushes me toward the purse. I can’t fucking move.
The vamp gene—the one that requires me to answer when my king calls—seems to have met its match.
In Victor Rogan.
My knees begin to tremble. The phone stops ringing and then rings again. Silently, but I hear it as if it’s a siren heading our way.
Then Rogan…
“Princess…”
I pull on my long hair. “Damn it. No!” I force one foot to move forward. Then the other. I make it to the chair, pull the phone out of the clutch. It’s still vibrating.
“Yeah?”
“What took you so long?” my father demands.
“I’m busy. Doing what you asked.”
“In bed, huh?”
“Not anymore.”
“Good, good. Glad it’s going well. I assume you’re more than satisfied.”
Really? I’m not going to discuss this botched seduction while the object of it is ten feet away and sporting the raging hard-on I left him with.
“What do you want?”
“Just checking in.”
“Bull.”
He laughs. A big and boisterous laugh. Which means he’s in a good mood. He probably just got a blow job at his desk.
“You’re a smart girl, Hannah.”
“Woman.”
“Right. Of course.”
“What do you want?” I ask again.
“I have some new information,” he says, “about Victor Rogan.”
14
“What?” I demand, not nicely.
Whatever information my father has on Rogan can’t possibly be more important than his gorgeous erection waiting for me on the bed.
“Easy does it, Hannah.”
I head to the bathroom and close the door. “The gene requires that I answer when you call. That’s it. How I respond is my own business, and right now, your timing is piss-poor and I’m pissed off.”
“Obviously.”
“What if I was about ready to get the evidence? What if your coitus interruptus fucked up my investigation?”
“Unless he keeps evidence hidden up his ass, you’re not anywhere close to finding it.”
“For God’s sake, Dad. What is it? What’s the new information that can’t wait?” I resist the urge to hurl my phone against the wall.
“This is important, Hannah.”
“Forgive me for not taking your word without knowing what it is.”
“I’m just as invested in this as you are. More so. The safety of our people is my responsibility, and if Rogan poses a threat—”
He’s not wrong, but I can’t bring myself to apologize. Instead, “I get it. What’s the information?”
My father clears his throat—his classic thing when he’s about to spill something big. I inhale. Exhale. Ready myself for an informational bomb.
“Rogan has demons on his payroll.”