Spearcrest Devil (SPEARCREST KINGS #5) by Aurora Reed EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Aurora Reed
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Tempting Arrangement
Luca
ONE NIGHT, ON HALLOWEEN, a woman walks into my club dressed
like a devil. Red wings, secured by a black harness, a short red dress, long
red gloves and thigh-high boots in patent leather, and a pair of shiny devil
horns.
The wearer belies the costume—there’s something almost angelic about
her.
Big eyes, long dark hair falling past her waist, a fuckable sort of
innocence in the way she looks around the club. Her glances are quick, her
movements hesitant. She seems fresh-faced and intimidated, nervous yet
excited.
Tonight, the club is dark and loud and vibrating with the boom of ambient
music. The lights are dim and carefully placed along valleys of shadows,
meticulously designed to dim the vision and dull the senses, to lull
intoxicated patrons into underthinking their indiscretions. Every part of my
club is engineered to facilitate easy sins and mindless mistakes.
But for this woman, the lights organise themselves into a halo that softens
her skin, her features, the crimson of her wings and dress. She appears
almost dreamlike, the edges of her a delicate blur as she walks past dancing
bodies, past writhing princesses and hungry beasts. She’s got a tiny purse in
her hand, which she holds with her elbow tucked on the ledge of her hip
and her hand dangling down, projecting the kind of elegant nonchalance
high society women curate meticulously.
But I know high society women. I’ve had my share of them—in more
ways than one—and they are all the same once the shimmery veneer of
them has been scraped off with the edge of one’s teeth.
Women, when it comes down to the red, beating core of them, are the
same as any other human being. Needing and hungry and oh so very
desperate to be seen and desired.
This woman—ginger steps over the plush carpeting, teeth worrying her
bottom lip while she searches the shadowy corners with her eyes, only
delicately, to avoid disturbing the perfect red of her lips—is not so different.
The need and hunger and despair are there, right below the surface. Ready
to be scratched open, gashed like a freshly re-opened wound.
She just needs to find someone who’ll do that for her.
Her gaze slides over me but doesn’t linger. Does she know who I am?
Probably. Maybe she doesn’t think I could give her what she’s looking for.
I watch her watch the men. My patrons are some of the most powerful
men in the world; I have as much in common with them as I do with the rats
that scuttle the back alleys of London looking for food scraps.
These men—no matter how rich and powerful they are—are all little
more than animals. They crawl in, stinking of cologne and alcohol and
money, and they’re all just as hungry and dirty as the rats outside. They
come here looking for something that will sate their hunger; I make sure
they get it.
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