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Chapter Fourteen

Dexter

Alta Mura Road, Pacific Palisades…

Dexter was enamored by the pout forming on Violet’s lips. It was a tell she seemed unaware of displaying. Her expression might have been comical if it hadn’t been accompanied by a flash of raw vulnerability in her eyes. It offered a glimpse of something genuine beneath her carefully constructed facade. It stirred a welcoming heat in his blood. It wasn’t just her natural sensuality that affected him, though God knew that was potent enough. No, what truly caught him off guard was the realization that she could read him—something few people had ever managed to do.

Years of working in high-stakes financial investments had taught him to read people like balance sheets. Each gesture, each micro-expression was a line item revealing their true worth. He’d developed this skill until it became an art form, understanding the architecture of human motivation as clearly as he understood the complex structures of international banking. Most people were transparent to him, their desires and fears as predictable as market fluctuations. In his world of billion-dollar deals and corporate takeovers, the ability to see through carefully crafted veneers had made him both wealthy and feared in equal measure.

“Are you enjoying the meal, Violet?” He smiled grimly as she started when he suddenly broke the silence.

“Yes, it’s delightful, thanks.” She offered him a tight smile. “You’re lucky to have such a wonderful chef.”

“Contrary to what you seem to think, he doesn’t work for me. He’s a very good friend who loves to come cook for me when I have guests.”

“That makes it even better.” He followed her delicate fingers picking up the serviette to dab the corners of her mouth. “How long have you been friends?”

Dexter’s expertise in spotting fiscal manipulation had saved his clients billions over time, earning him the nickname ‘The Oracle of L.A.’ in financial circles, which was why The World Bank had pursued him to collaborate with them. He could read the subtle tells and the nervous energy of people hiding toxic assets, but it was the desperate gleam in the eyes of those seeking bailouts that he found rewarding.

Violet was different. The way her green eyes tracked his reactions, as if she was cataloging each subtle shift in his expression, told him she possessed the same gift. Under different circumstances, he would’ve been delighted. Instead, his disappointment sharpened.

“Since university. I tried to get rid of him, but he’s like a leech,” he drawled in response to her question.

An unexpected yet delightful giggle escaped her lips, which, to his chagrin, she suppressed just as quickly. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

The crease between her perfectly shaped brows and the quick downward curl of her lips betrayed an uncertainty that seemed at odds with everything he’d read about the formidable defense attorney. Yet beneath that vulnerability, he sensed calculation—the kind that made his jaw clench. John Wilder’s intel about The World Bank’s system and the Russo family’s involvement had been comprehensive. She was here to use him, to deploy her considerable charms in service of something he found morally repugnant.

His moral code wasn’t just a set of guidelines. Oh no, it was the operating system that governed his entire life. He’d built his reputation on being incorruptible and on using his skills to protect rather than exploit.

The fact that she thought she could seduce him into compromising those principles was a slap in his face. It felt like a payola attempt on his source code.

“It’s hot,” Dexter pushed his empty dessert plate back. Getting up, he took off his clothes, leaving only his Calvin Klein underwear hugging his hips. “Come, let’s take a swim.” Not waiting for her response, he dove into the pool to hide the disappointment that flooded his mind. He had truly believed he’d found the woman for him and expected more from her. That she had failed the test hardened his resolve to teach her a lesson. He would bet his entire fortune that she only came to the opening of L.A. Club Decadent Skies to seduce him into helping her wipe the information from The World Bank’s system to clear her family from all suspicion.

Unfortunately for Violet, Dexter was resolute. Wrong was wrong, and no matter how attracted he was to her, he refused to turn into her puppet, ready to clean up her family’s mess.

Cleaving the surface, he looked around to find her staring at him, still sitting at the table.

“Get in here, Violet.” His voice dropped a couple of octaves, turning darker and deeper than his usual Dom voice, which resulted in her immediately getting up. Then she hesitated and glanced at the house.

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

“Violet, I’ve seen you naked and fucked you silly, so drop the act, and get in here.”

“But Carlos—”

“Is also in the lifestyle, and unless he’s invited to join us, he won’t be wandering out here.”

“This is… look here, Dexter Flint,” she said in a clipped voice as her confidence returned now that he wasn’t in her immediate space. “I didn’t come here to kafuffle in the pool. I have something very serious to discuss with you.”

He grinned as she stood, tapping her foot in annoyance. “As soon as I’ve cooled down, we’ll talk, but since I hate swimming alone…”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered under her breath, but the silence in the valley carried the words to him.

“Ah, Violet, you’re such a refreshing woman,” he said, more than amused as she offered an unfeminine snort in response. Without any attempt at seduction, she undressed to very sexy red lace lingerie before walking to the stairs of the pool.

“The water better not be cold,” she mumbled as she tentatively tested the water with a toe.

“The water is kept at the perfect temperature. So, stop procrastinating.” His blood began to sizzle as she dove into the pool with graceful and swanlike movements. A seam of lust loosened to settle in a consistent throb in his loins.

“You just entered the shark’s hunting ground, little subbie,” he rasped under his breath as he swam to where she would break the surface.

Violet

Alta Mura Road, Pacific Palisades…

Violet knew she was in trouble the moment she cleared the surface to find Dexter right there in front of her. So close, she could feel his breath on her face.

If she was at all honest with herself, she would have to admit that she had expected some shenanigans from him, yet knowing that, she still dove into the pool. Right into the jaws of the shark who was waiting to engrave his desire’s control with intense precision into her soul.

“Wait! What do you think you’re doing?” Violet barely had time to take a breath before Dexter’s strong arm snaked around her waist, pulling her against him with a force that was as thrilling as it was frightening. Her palms trembled at the power she could feel coiling in his muscles. His eyes glimmered with intent as they bore into hers, reflecting unabashed hunger.

“If I have to explain what I’m doing, we have a serious problem, Miss Russo.”

“I didn’t come here for—” Her protest was cut off as his mouth descended on hers. It was a kiss of pure lust as he staked his claim without apology. A shiver ran down her spine in a primal response to the raw power he exuded.

Her first instinct was to resist. Just like on the GoldenEye Airbus, he once again disarmed her and took over. Not this time! Desperate for release so she could think clearly, she pushed against his chest, but he was unyielding, and instead, his arm around her tightened.

“Hmpf,” she protested against his lips as his large hand settled around her throat. His fingers tightened in warning for her to stop struggling and effectively held her in place as his lips moved against hers with a skill that was impossible to ignore.

The resistance within her crumbled. The heat of his body, the taste of his lips, and the sheer dominance of his kiss conspired against her to chip away at her defenses. Her body softened, and her lips parted as, without conscious thought, she kissed him back with all the suppressed desire she’d been struggling with since that weekend at L.A. Club Decadent Skies.

Her hands moved over his rippling chest to pull him closer. The low moan of surrender crawling from her throat spurred Dexter on. His kiss deepened, and his tongue explored her mouth with a thoroughness that left her breathless.

Dexter’s kiss was a tsunami, a relentless force that swept Violet up and carried her away. She was barely aware of the water around them or the cool night air. All that existed was Dexter and the wild, consuming passion that burned between them.

Without breaking the kiss, he walked her backward. His strong arms guided her until the rough edge of the pool cut into her back.

“I told you I didn’t come here for this,” she managed to croak as Dexter effortlessly lifted her onto the edge. She sat perched there, looking down at him.

“I’m well aware of that, but be honest with yourself, Violet. You and I both knew we’d fuck before you left here tonight,” he replied in a low growl. “And it’s going to happen. Right here. Right now.”

Dexter’s hands slid up her thighs to spread her legs wide apart. An involuntary shudder tiptoed through her as he settled his powerful body between her knees.

“You know what will stop me, Spitfire. Unless I hear that one word… this is going to happen.”

Violet’s mind formed the word, but her lips refused to accommodate the order to speak. She knew what was coming. Dexter had warned her and proved it, for that matter, more than once. He didn’t have sex—he fucked, and the word gentle didn’t exist in his vocabulary. Maybe that was why she couldn’t, or rather didn’t want to stop him. She wanted it—wanted him—with a ferocity that matched his own.

One hand curled around her throat, tightening until she was gasping for breath, while the other fisted a tuft of hair.

“If you can’t breathe, you better warn me before you pass out, subbie,” he growled low in his throat as he entered her with a single, powerful thrust—embedding himself to the hilt.

“Holy shit!” Violet cried out as a flash of pleasure-pain seared through her mind.

“No,” he warned as his fingers tightened to the point of almost cutting off her oxygen. “Keep your eyes open… on me, subbie, until I’m done.”

“Y-Yes, M-Master D,” she croaked. He was so big, so hard, and the feel of him inside her was almost more than she could bear. She clung to his shoulders with her nails digging into his skin as she struggled to separate pleasure from pain and excitement from fear.

“I said to look at me, Violet,” Dexter commanded in that deep, dark Dom voice. He didn’t bother to hide his lust. With a slow blink, her eyes met his. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now, we fuck.”

His words were still ringing in her ears when he began pounding into her. Each thrust was a claim, a declaration of his dominance. He pounded her so hard that her buttocks lifted completely off the edge of the pool. All she could do was hold on as her body surrendered to him. Waves of pleasure crashed over her as he swept her away, carrying her along by the force of his passion.

“That’s it, my pet. Give it to me. Buck those hips. Damn it to hell, I love how wild and untamed you are when we fuck.”

Violet couldn’t deny any of what he said. She was completely at the mercy of his desire’s control.

“M-Master D,” she gasped as her body tightened around him and his fingers clamped dangerously around her throat. “I can’t... it’s too much… Breathe… please. I c-can’t b-breathe,” she stammered brokenly.

“Yes, you can, my pet. Because I want you to,” he growled as his pace quickened to a brutal pounding that sent her soaring higher on a euphoric cloud. With pleading eyes and her hands clawing at his hand, she fought the avalanche that was the climax rolling closer. “Not yet, Spitfire. I want more.”

“I c-can’t!” she pleaded with tears rolling down her cheeks. Her lungs were on fire, and her throat ached with the desperate attempt to draw air through her restricted esophagus. “P-Please!”

“Such a good little whore, aren’t you,” he rasped as he yanked her head back, eliciting a cry of pain as it felt like he was tearing her scalp in two. Holding back her orgasm became near impossible as her body convulsed, her orgasm on the edge of rolling over with an intensity that left her breathless. It started as a tightening deep within her core, a coiling sensation that grew tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust of Dexter’s hips.

“F-Fuck… please!” The pressure built as a wave of pleasure threatened to consume her entirely. She clung to him. Digging her nails into his flesh, she wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him closer and force him deeper. The sensation of him filling and stretching her was almost too much to bear.

“Now, little one. Come for me, Violet. Now.”

His command was her undoing as suddenly, the wave crested and crashed over her. The climax exploded through her in a rush of pure, white-hot pleasure that lit every cell in her body on fire.

“Gaawd!” Her voice echoed in the night air when he finally relaxed his fingers from their stranglehold as her body convulsed around him. Each pulse of her release sent shockwaves of intoxication coursing through her, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

“Oh, fuck… I can’t… I need…” Her vision blurred with her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Violet clung to him as she felt she was falling, spinning out of control, completely lost in a storm of sensation.

“That’s it, my pet. Release her. Release the gorgeous and hot little whore you’ve been keeping tethered for far too long.” Dexter’s grip on her tightened with his body tensing as he chased his own release.

“Oh, shit,” she moaned as the feel of him throbbing inside her sent another wave of pleasure crashing over her. It was too much, too intense, too overwhelming. But it was also perfect, a moment of sheer ecstasy that left her shattered and complete, all at once. With her body shaking and her heart racing, she leaned against Dexter as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had suddenly turned liquid.

Oh, shit! I am so fucked! The thought washed over her as the last waves of her orgasm faded, leaving her breathless and trembling, with her body still pulsing in aftershock.

“Don’t ever hide her from me again, Violet. Not when we’re at the club or when we’re alone. She’s mine. She belongs to me and me alone. Is that understood?”

His possessive declaration echoed through her mind as she stared at Dexter with eyes wide in shock and awe.

“I understand, Dexter,” she whispered. Her heart filled with wonder and a desire so deep, it scared her. It wasn’t his words or calling her a whore in that deep Dom voice that stole her ability to think past this moment. It was much more profound than that.

Violet stood at a crossroads. She had a responsibility to her family. At the same time, she had never felt anything like this before, never known that such intense, all-consuming pleasure was even possible.

At this moment, she knew nothing would ever be the same again… she would never be the same again.

Fucking hell. What now?

The question left her even more shaken. Her reaction to Dexter the first time they had met had been the same. This time was more intense, epic even.

No! It can’t be. Not this soon.

Yet, once the seed was planted, the roots immediately took flight, and within seconds, Violet Russo knew—with Dexter, it wasn’t only about the pleasure… no. The dratted man had managed to break through all the defenses she had built around her heart. As impossible as it might seem, she might just be falling in love with him.

Instalove . A concept at which she had always scoffed. Yet, here she was… desperately searching for another solution to help her family.

Because one thing stood out like a Baobab tree among shrubs… there was no way she could involve Dexter now—not now that he held her heart in the palm of his hand.

“You should’ve told me we were going swimming,” Carlos’ deep voice yanked her attention back to the present.

“Oh, my Lord,” Violet gasped and became all arms and legs in an attempt to hide her nakedness from him as she realized she was stark naked. Although for the life of her, she couldn’t even remember Dexter removing her lingerie.

“No need to cut your pleasure short, mademoiselle ,” he laughed as Violet jumped up and rushed past him to pull her clothes over her wet body.

“It seems Miss Russo has cooled down enough,” Dexter said with a chuckle. “You’re welcome to join me, though.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Violet shouldn’t have been surprised but couldn’t help gaping at the rippling glutes of the chef as he summarily undressed and dove naked into the pool.

“So, I’m waiting, Violet. What is it that you wanted to discuss?” Dexter watched her with hooded eyes from where he stood, with his chin resting on his folded arms at the edge of the pool.

Dragging her eyes from the muscled physique of his friend, she stared at him for long, quiet moments.

“It’s nothing,” she muttered as she put on her shoes. “I changed my mind. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

“Ah, my sweet Violet. No amount of time spent with you is ever a waste of my time.”

“Well, either way, I’m leaving.” She smiled at Carlos, who came to stand next to Dexter. “Thanks for a lovely dinner.” Nodding at the two men, she spun around and quickly walked into the house to find her handbag and car keys.

“You’re not getting off the hook that easy, Violet,” Dexter’s voice chased after her. “I will find out what’s hounding you and causing those shadows in your pretty green eyes.”

“Good luck with that, Mr. Chauvinist,” she muttered as she hurried out of the house. She only breathed easily when she was a mile down the road. Her voice echoing through the interior of the car sounded hoarse and forlorn.

“What a way to create a complete clusterfuck, Violet Russo.”

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