His black pants and matching blazer were of the same quality – the kind that never came with price tags because those who ordered them didn’t need to know how much they cost. Custom-designed to exquisitely mold to his long, tall, and muscular form, the suit emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, his lean waist, and his sculpted chest.
Velvet’s breath caught in a mixture of helpless excitement and terror of the unknown as Mykolas Sallis slowly walked towards her. With each step he took, he made the vast hall seem smaller. Around them, ancient works of art seemed to turn into spectators, watching their every move, waiting for Mykolas to claim Velvet like a Greek god who had been given a virginal offering.
When Mykolas stopped just an inch before her, her blood started to sing, heat turning her body into a tingling mass of anticipation.
“Look at me.”
Each word was like a whip of passion on her skin, making her tremble as she slowly raised her gaze to his.
He was beautiful.
Every feature of him was hard and perfect, and Velvet found herself more than a little faint at just how larger than life Mykolas Sallis felt. Ebony black hair, gold-brown eyes, and smooth, hard bronze skin all over that made her fingers itch. Her head whirled at the realization that this was the man she had been talking to all this time.
Finally, Mykolas thought as the most dominant part of him exulted at the realization that his Velvet was within reach at long last. She was spectacularly beautiful, her every feature exotic and vibrantly alive. Her hair burned red gold under the museum’s gentle overhead lights, long flowing tresses that swayed against her back. Her eyes were a lively shade of green, molten jade that could turn into a turbulent sea if she was mad…or aroused.
The thought had him looking at her lips, her wonderfully pink colored lips, so beautifully plump they tempted him to sink his teeth into them so he could know how soft it was.
Velvet swallowed. “You’re staring at me.” And, Velvet was ashamed to admit, the way he was staring at her made Velvet feel hot and bothered. Restlessness churned inside her, making her dress feel like it had suddenly turned into a heavy, suffocating chain of armor. She wanted to get out of her dress. She wanted to be naked. And she wanted to be in his arms.
Dear God, how in the world had Mykolas Sallis been able to turn her into a full-fledged slut overnight?
He didn’t smile. “You’re staring at me as well.”
“I can’t help it,” she quipped to hide her nervousness. “You look so pretty.”
This time, his lips curved slightly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” His smile widened at the look of frustration that flashed in her expressive green eyes. “Were you perhaps trying to taunt me into having a reaction?”
She was, but she would rather die than admit it. “Of course not.”
“You only have to ask, and I shall give it to you.”
She knew right away what he meant and she snarled, “Never.”
Mykolas laughed, the full-bodied sound dark, sweet, and forbidden. It made her senses come alive and caused her ni**les to prick against the cotton fabric of her dress.
When he stepped forward, she immediately tried to move back, but his hands were suddenly there, one hand going around her waist and another clasping her hip. Her body slammed against his the next second, his engorged c**k immediately making itself felt as it pulsed strongly against the softness of her belly. The contact had Mykolas gritting his teeth and Velvet quickly swallowing back a whimper.
When she looked up at Mykolas, his face was devoid of any softness. It was harsh, his eyes lit up with fierce lust, and his voice was gravelly as he demanded, “Tell me.”
She shook her head defiantly, but a cry broke out from her as he pulled her more tightly against him and began grinding his c**k against her already-drenched pu**y. Her eyes squeezed shut, Velvet not wanting him to see just how much his c**k was tormenting her.
“Tell me.” He ground his erection harder against her.
“Why do you want me to say it? Isn’t it enough that you made me ask to see you? Is this some kind of power trip for you just so you know that you’ve succeeded—”
“I want you to say it,” he growled, “because I want to hear, I want to goddamn know that I’ve made you mine since you’ve already made me yours.”
His words hung between them like a bomb that could detonate any second, and the air around them became rife with sexual tension.
Velvet’s wide-eyed gaze was filled with incredulity. She couldn’t believe he had said that he was…hers. “Did you really just f**king say you were…mine?”
Mykolas glared at her. “Did you really just say ‘fucking’? Don’t you know what that’s making me want to do?”
Even with him glaring at her, Velvet couldn’t help but smile. He really had said it. He had said he was hers. The sheer beauty of the thought had her senses reeling, her body tightening in anticipation at the knowledge that soon, she could be truly his, too.
She whispered, “I want you to kiss me, Mykolas Sal—”
Fingers sunk into her hair, her head brought up, and lips that were firm and smooth at the same time crushed hers.
Velvet gasped at the kiss. It was blatantly sexual, fiercely passionate, and unapologetically possessive. With that one kiss, Mykolas was branding her as his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and right after, Mykolas hefted her up, causing her to gasp and automatically wrap her legs around his waist.
Without breaking their kiss, Mykolas walked them towards the end of the hall, where he could have her leaning against the wall. Keeping her up against the wall with just one arm, he used his other hand to take a hold of the skirt of her dress.
“Mykolas!” His name was torn out of her as she felt him rip the skirt out of the way. But he only kissed her again, harder, his tongue diving into her mouth as his hand continued to move.
Riiiip.
She gasped against his mouth as Mykolas ripped her lace panties off her, leaving her completely na**d from the waist down. Cool air-conditioned air kissed her legs, causing her wetness to scent the room, and she flushed in embarrassment.
“You smell lovely,” he whispered, sensing Velvet’s emotions and correctly interpreting them for what it was.
She was so embarrassed he had figured out her feelings. Velvet hid her face in the crook of his neck. She bit his neck, too, as if in punishment for embarrassing her, but this only made him chuckle. He moved her up again, and Velvet instinctively tightened her arms and legs around him.