WICKED PURSUIT
A BLACK ROSE AUCTION NOVEL
KATEE ROBERT
OceanofPDF.com
Copyright © 2024 by Katee Robert
All rights reserved.
Cover Design by Elizabeth Turner Stokes
Stepback Art by Sara Bertoli
Chapter Headers by Azura Arts
Stepback Design by Elizabeth Turner Stokes
Developmental Editing by Manu Velasco
Copy Editing by Tara Rayers
Proofing by Erica Russikoff
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
OceanofPDF.com
To H.D. Carlton and Cate C. Wells.
Without Haunting Adeline and Nicky the Driver, this book wouldn’t exist.
OceanofPDF.com
CONTENTS
Content Notes
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
About the Author
OceanofPDF.com
CONTENT NOTES
Tropes: Stalking romance
Tags: Stalking, mafia, dubious consent, bad girl so damn tired of being good, skull masks are sexy and no one can tell me otherwise, murder is foreplay apparently, primal play, auctioning myself off sounds like a really good call that couldn’t possibly backfire, why yes I will incite my stalker to increasingly violent acts, jealousy can be sexy, you can fuck who you want but at the end of the night I’m reclaiming my pussy, second generation Wicked Villains, no I do not want to go to a kink club where my parents hang out, FFM scene, MMF scene, in this house we support women’s wrongs, antiheroine, antihero, breath play, primal play
Content Warnings: Dubious consent, stalking, murder, assault, violence, blood, choking without prior discussion, cheating, consensual non-consent, explicit sex, attempted sexual assault (not the hero), breeding (epilogue)
OceanofPDF.com
1
Ishouldn’t be here.
I told Luke I was going out with Michelle and some of our other friends, but that wasn’t the full truth. I made a stop first. I needed to get out of the increasingly oppressive atmosphere of our apartment. Of the silences that grow more and more strained as the weeks pass and it feels like we’re no longer the people we were when we met.
I love him. I think. Or at least I used to.
It feels like a lie right now, while I’m sliding down another man’s cock.
The man in question . . . I can’t remember his name right now, not with desire and shame and alcohol fuzzing my thoughts. He’s handsome in the way so many men in the life are, harsh and cruel with scars on his knuckles and tattoos creeping up his wide neck.
“That’s right, baby. Ride my cock.”
“Shut up,” I mutter. But I don’t stop. He’s got my dress rucked up around my waist back in this private booth that really isn’t that private. Not that it matters. Luke is a good man. He wouldn’t be caught dead in a bar like this. One where the floors are sticky, where smoke lingers in the air, where every person is carrying. A bar frequented by the most dangerous people in Carver City.
No, Luke prefers bars that are frequented by professionals in business suits sharing a drink as they decompress from a long day at the office. Places where the emphasis is networking. Where the music is never too loud and is intentionally palatable. Where the drinks are named fancy things that hint at prestige but are made with well alcohol.
Luke is a lot like those bars. He doesn’t incite dramatic passions, and the most exciting thing he does is travel incessantly for work. These days, being with him is as comfortable as a well-worn sweater. And as coma inducing.
No. Holy fuck, no. I am not thinking about him while I’m doing this.
I snake a hand down to stroke my clit. If I’m going to be a horrible, cheating girlfriend, then I’m at least going to get off while I do it.
It doesn’t take long. It never does when I’m doing something that good girls don’t do.
Not that I was raised with that kind of bullshit, but I’ve had the sword of Damocles hanging over my head since I was old enough to be aware of what it means that my aunt, the leader of our territory, has no children. Of the fact that my mother only has me. That math only adds up to one solution, and it’s one that’s never sat comfortably on my shoulders. I never asked to be heir. I don’t really want the title or the responsibility.
Even so, there’s a part of me that strives not to disappoint the people in my life. I went through school without a single bad mark on my record. I got good grades and didn’t bother to date much, because no one was brave enough to face down the required family dinner. After high school, the wildest I got was using a fake ID to get through the door of the Tower, our favorite club in town. I had my first taste of freedom there, of what life might be if I were just another rich girl, no responsibility chaining me to a future I didn’t choose for myself. It was heady and amazing and addicting.
Then I met Luke on my twenty-second birthday.
He doesn’t know what my family does. He’s not from Carver City, didn’t grow up here with the oppressive “family” culture—really just another way to say “mob” culture. He looked at me and saw the girl I’d always strived to be, good and kind and always coloring inside the lines.
I’m not being good right now.
I stroke my clit faster, the shame that’s coating me driving me over the edge and into an orgasm that might not change my life but feels good nonetheless. I ease off the stranger’s condom-covered cock and stagger to my feet. Coming here was a mistake, but fuck if I don’t feel at home in my own skin for the first time in years. Maybe ever.
The man reaches for me, his brutal expression relaxed. “Where you going, Red? I’m not done with that pussy yet.”
Red isn’t my name, but with my crimson-dyed hair, the guy didn’t question it when I gave it to him. I pull the skirt of my dress back down over my hips and easily dodge his hand. “Thanks for the good time. See you never.”
“Hey!”
I ignore him and stride out of the private booth. The bar is much the same as I left it, dingy and dark and filled with people who live and work in the shadows. The enforcers who keep rulers like my aunt in power. People like my fathers, with blood on their hands. People like I’ll eventually be when I take over the Belmonte territory. The clock ticking in my head had been silent while I was fucking the stranger, but it starts right back up again. My parents may have given me space before cramming me into the heir role, but it’s only a matter of time before they tire of my resistance.
