Primal Pursuit

“Is it?”

“No.”

That simmer of hostility draws me, and I lean in. I still can’t take my eyes off her now I’m here, needling her. She’s a spiky thing of cool disdain and fire. Of a simmering pot of secrets below her surface. She’s young, usually not my thing. I like older because young tend to get attached or want adaddy,and I’m not here for that. But there’s an air of ageless intrigue to her, and it’s inviting me in.Sheintrigues me. And that’s why she’s not out on her ass or in the back rooms, being pounded into fucking submission by every fucking Elite.

I step up to the bar, my eyes never leaving hers. “Drink?”

“Negroni.”

“What’s the magic word, Rabbit?”

“Oh, wait. I know this one. Does it rhyme with go fuck yourself?”

I snicker then lean closer and breathe her in. The rabbitsmells like gardenias and orange blossoms, which doesn’t suit her at all. Because even though she’s most definitely young, can’t be more than early twenties, there’s an animalistic vibe, one that runs talons over my senses, trailing whisper-sharp on my balls like electricity.

“You don’t give a fuck about propriety or the rules, do you?”

Her nostrils flare and her gaze hardens. “Super observant of you.”

I inch back, licking my lips as I study her. I can’t decide if she’s up to something she shouldn’t be, or if she’s looking for a way to get her depravities met. Option one gets her on the street, the other takes her down into the depraved depths of her own personal heaven. Along with an airtight violation of all her holes.

But I know she’s not fucking Jacinta Harris. I personally vetted this round of invitees. We each get a turn to do it, and it doesn’t hurt to get a preview of the night’s menu. She looks a lot like Jacinta and could easily pass the eye of an amateur. But not me. It’s my job to be able to distinguish one person from another with a simple glance, which is why I knew it wasn’t her simply by looking at her on the security feed. There’s a slight height difference, this little rabbit being a tiny bit smaller than the real Mrs. Harris. But she piqued my interest, and I need to know why she faked her way in here, which is why I told our busty hostess to let this little perpetrator through. And with her failed deception, she brought the excitement with her tonight. An excitement I’m currently feeding off.

My tastes as a Dom are exceedingly particular.

The women here are always either too demure in theireagerness to turn sub and get the fucking of a lifetime, too nervous, or just too damn willing. It’s the sexual and psychological equivalent of feeding a wild, caged predator a frozen meal. I want to hunt wild flesh and play with it before eating it.

“So, what’s yours?” She slants a dark brow behind her intricate mask as I hand her a drink.

“My what?”

“Your kink?”

I shrug. “Some might think I want aggressive. I do. But the kind of aggressive that comes wrapped in layers of complexities.”

“You sound like a special kind of psychopath.”

“Says the firecracker who came from my whip alone.”

Her drink jerks.

And I eat my smile.

Thing is, she’s got me fucking intrigued. I could say I’m curious about her real agenda. I am. But I also don’t particularly care. Actually, that keeps me standing here next to a girl who’s probably twenty years younger than me, because I’m a sucker for innovative, brains and beauty wrapped in the package of a girl with secrets, a girl who’ll never be easy. It’s up my alley.

All the fucking way up.

“Finish your drink, Rabbit,” I say. “You’re gonna need it for what happens next.”

“What makes you think I’d be interested in next?”

“The fact that the little orgasm you had—you know…the one you tried to hide—that’s not enough for you.” I reach out and grab her waist, pulling her close, and watch as her lips part. “You want more. So. Much. More.”

“I told you, this doesn’t arouse me.”

“I’m not talking about that shit on the altar, Rabbit.” I move deliberately closer, brush against her, drink in the involuntary shiver. “I’m talking about you and me.”

“There’s no you and me.”