ELARA.

He answered the phone without looking away from me.

“Talk.”

Whoever was on the other end spoke fast. His expression didn’t change, but the hand resting on my bare stomach flexed once. Hard.

“Handle it. I’m occupied.” A pause. “I said handle it.”

He ended the call and tossed the phone onto the nightstand. Then he looked down at me again. Legs still open. Underwear still on. Chest rising too fast.

“Where were we?”

His fingers hooked into the sides of my underwear and dragged them down my legs in one slow pull. The lace caught for a second on my thighs before he yanked harder. Cool air hit...