“What if one of the Morellis enters the room?” she mumbles against my kiss as she touches her tongue to mine.

“We’re alone and behind a locked door.” I pull her closer.

“So if I fuck you, then you’ll help me leave this mansion afterwards?”

“Yes.” I’m a man of my word.

“I’m guaranteed to be safe?”

I pull away from the kiss and laugh. “No. Nothing is safe with me.”

Growing impatient and needing to see what’s underneath all the silver that covers her, I yank up her shimmery dress, I take hold of the dainty material of her panties and pull hard, tearing them from her body. I’m used to women acting insulted, afraid, and even more concerned about replacing their expensive panties than what’s to come.

But not Lyriope.

Oh Jesus Christ, not her.

Instead, she simply stares at me, licks her lips, places her finger into her mouth, widens her legs, so I can see her sex on full display, and then lowers her finger to the lips of her pussy and dips it into the folds.

“You want this?” she asks with narrow eyes and a quirk of her lip.

She runs her fingertip over her clit, her expression icy and poised as only she can do.

My mouth waters with just how much I do.

“Maybe I don’t need you,” she says as she pushes her finger into her pussy and begins fucking herself with it.

I see her juices on her finger, and I want to lick every drop off.

“You don’t need me,” I say as I crawl toward her open legs. “But you want me. I can smell it on you.” Not playing this cat and mouse game anymore, I put my nose right up to her cunt, with her finger still massaging all around, and inhale. “And it smells fucking delicious.”

She shoves my head away and snaps her legs shut. I lean back and look up at her with a mixture of annoyance and humor. I truly have to hand it to the girl. She likes her games.

“I’d like to add one other stipulation,” she says, and though I don’t enjoy bargaining, I decide to humor her by listening.

“Go on…”

“You help me find safety beyond just tonight.”

“You made your bed—”

“I’m not asking for you to get involved fully,” she interrupts. “I’m just asking for some time. For some direction.” Her eyes are pleading even though her voice doesn’t waver in the slightest. The woman fascinates me with her bravado.

“So, spell this out,” I begin. “What exactly is it you’re asking?”