Chapter 939: Chapter 939 Raid
Nina forced herself to look higher, dragging her gaze away from that intimidating sight until her eyes locked on his face.
And then it hit her.
Without the spell, without the hat and glasses, without anything to mask him—she recognized him instantly.
Her lips parted, a gasp escaping before she could stop it.
"You’re... you’re Ross Oakley!" Her voice cracked, disbelieving, trembling between awe and fear.
She clutched the strap of her bag like it could anchor her, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
Her mind screamed at her to turn and run, but her legs refused to move.
She stood frozen, transfixed, every thought clouded by his sheer presence.
Ross didn’t flinch. His gaze stayed locked on her, calm, predatory, knowing.
A slow smile curved his lips, the kind that promised danger and pleasure all at once.
He walked closer, each step measured, each one tightening the invisible leash he already had around her.
Nina’s pulse thundered. Her throat went dry.
She had come here thinking she could handle temptation—but standing in front of him, raw and unhidden, she realized she had underestimated him entirely.
Ross stopped a few feet away, towering over her, his shadow falling across her trembling figure.
His voice broke the silence, deep and smooth, like velvet over steel.
"Indeed. I’m Ross Oakley—welcome to my world, Nina."
Ross smiled, and the brilliance of his white teeth shone like polished pearls.
His words echoed in her ears, smooth yet commanding, like a decree handed down from a king.
In that instant, Nina understood why Carrie had surrendered to him so easily, why she had let herself be touched, marked, and claimed.
Ross wasn’t merely a man—he was a force.
Famous, infamous, whispered about in hushed voices across the city.
Not for his money, not even for his notoriety, but for the countless women who had fallen into his orbit and never truly escaped.
Nina’s pulse quickened.
She had always thought herself strong, untouchable, too sensible to ever let herself be seduced by the kind of man her parents had always warned her about.
Yet here she was, trembling, knees weak, every nerve of her body aware of him.
The sheer presence of Ross was suffocating.
He smelled like power and heat—an intoxicating, masculine scent that made her thighs press together unconsciously.
Her gaze flickered to the door.
It stood there, only a few feet away, its polished surface gleaming under the warm light of the penthouse.
So close—yet impossibly far.
To reach it would mean tearing herself away from the magnetic pull Ross exuded.
And the deeper truth was a cruel one: she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave.
Just as panic began to swirl in her chest, Ross shifted.
"Or maybe not."
The words rolled from his lips, deep and resonant, as he grinned—a slow, deliberate smile that made her breath hitch.
He stepped back from her, calm and unhurried, his movements controlled, as though he already knew she was ensnared.
With a predator’s poise, he crossed the room and lowered himself onto a sleek sofa of black leather, his gaze never leaving hers.
And then he spread his legs.
Nina gasped softly.
His cock, no longer at rest, now stood at full length and girth—fifteen inches of hardened flesh, veined and heavy, throbbing with impossible vitality.
It was obscene, shocking, almost terrifying, yet her eyes could not pull away.
Her mouth went dry, her chest rising and falling rapidly as shame and hunger twisted inside her.
Ross leaned back, one arm draped lazily along the backrest, the other resting at his side.
His posture was casual, but there was nothing casual in his aura.
He looked like a conqueror on his throne, a man who had never once been denied.
"The door is open," Ross said, his voice rumbling like distant thunder.
"You may go as you please. Nothing and no one is forcing you to stay—not even me."
The words should have been liberating.
They should have given her strength. Instead, they bound her tighter than chains.
The more freedom he offered, the more trapped she felt—because his composure, his utter lack of need, made her realize the truth: he already owned her.
Her heart raced. She looked once more at the door, so close, so safe, so logical.
Her body, however, betrayed her.
Her thighs clenched, heat pooling in her cunt, and her breaths grew shallow, shaky.
Ross wasn’t even touching her, and yet she felt undone, her body reacting as though he already had her pinned beneath him.
Ross chuckled low, seeing her struggle, the sound rich and dark.
"You’re trembling, Nina," he said, tilting his head ever so slightly.
"Afraid? Or excited?"
The question struck her like a blade of truth.
She wanted to deny it, to speak, to reclaim her pride—but no words came.
Her lips parted, only a faint breath escaping as her body betrayed her once more.
The silence stretched. The door stood open.
Ross sat waiting, his cock massive, throbbing, shamelessly displayed, his eyes gleaming with the certainty of a man who knew the outcome before it was decided.
And Nina... could not move.
Her heart, her body, her very soul hung in that dangerous pause between choice and surrender.
Nina took a series of long, deliberate breaths, her chest rising and falling as though each inhale was a battle against the storm inside her.
Her heart pounded so violently she thought Ross could probably hear it.
Yet, despite the chaos within, her lips curved into a small, taunting smile.
"This scene..." she said softly, her voice trembling between mockery and nervousness, "reminds me of how the devil tempted Adam and Eve. Tell me, Ross... is this how you convinced Carrie to spread her legs for you? With that smile, that voice, and that... monstrous cock?" Her eyes flicked down, then back up quickly.
"And now you expect me to do the same? To commit the same stupid mistake?"
Her words rang bold, but the quiver in her tone betrayed her.