Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
My stomach flips, and I edge away from him. Lust fizzes through my system in a giddy rush—the fear-tinged desire only he can elicit.
“Dane…”
His lush lips tilt in a challenging smirk. “I do love when you say my name in that breathy little whisper, but that’s not how you address me when we’re alone, is it? Crawl over here and beg your master for your pretty new collar.”
I tip my chin back, meeting his cruelly amused energy with defiance. “You want me to debase myself for a few diamonds? My pride is worth more than that.”
His savage grin is sharp enough to cut. “Everything about you is priceless, my precious pet. But you will yield. One way or another, you will end up on your knees with this collar around your throat.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I agreed to marry you, not obey you. That won’t be part of our vows.”
His low laugh is pure seduction, and I suppress the urge to shiver as it wraps around me like a palpable caress. I won’t lose this battle of wills so easily. Because as much as I crave to do as he commands, I want him to earn my submission. He will have to force me to comply with his wicked demands.
“By the time I’m finished with you, you will sweetly crawl down the aisle and let me fuck you over the altar while you vow to obey me for the rest of our lives.”
My core pulses, but I keep my words acerbic. “You’re delusional.”
He clicks his tongue at me. “Psychopathic,” he corrects me. “I’m obsessive and ruthless, and I always get what I want. If I want you on a leash, worshipping at my feet, then you will oblige me. You chose me, Abigail. This is who I am. This is what I expect from you. What I will take from you.”
“So many threats,” I counter coolly, despite the maddening pulse in my clit. “But we both know that you can’t make me do anything. You’re mine, Dane.”
His smile is pure, evil delight, and his dark green eyes dance. “Poor pet,” he mocks. “You want to come to me so badly. I can see it in your pretty blush and the way you’re pressing your thighs together. Only your pride is stopping you from getting what you really desire. You said it’s worth more than a few diamonds, but I’m not trying to buy it. I plan to take it. I will shatter you.”
I stand, shoulders squared so that I’m at my full height. I will not crawl.
Instead, I hold my head high and walk right past him—keeping a few feet of careful distance so that I’m not within easy reach. His low laugh follows me out into the open plan living room, and now that I’m out of sight, I allow myself a small shiver of giddy anticipation.
He doesn’t come after me right away. I know he must be planning something, drawing out my anxious anticipation. With every passing second, my body coils tighter, and my sex throbs in time with my thudding heartbeat.
I busy myself in the kitchen, putting on the kettle for a cup of tea that I don’t want to drink. My hands tremble slightly as I go about the menial task, just trying to give myself something mundane to occupy me.
I could flee the penthouse altogether, but I don’t really want to evade him. And I’m not at all certain that would stop him from dragging me back here kicking and screaming, no matter how much of a scene that would cause.
He strolls into the kitchen, and I pointedly keep my attention on the kettle. It’s taking ages to boil, and my fingers tap the marble countertop in a nervous, staccato rhythm.
“You don’t like tea,” he remarks.
I shrug. “Maybe it’s not for me. Maybe I plan to toss it in your smug face.”
He just laughs in response to my barbed threat. We both know I’d never actually do anything to hurt him, but he’s loving our dance on the edge of consent.
“It’s been too long since I tamed your sassy mouth,” he remarks. “Your punishments are adding up, naughty pet. You teased me in the park, you refused a direct order, and now you’re threatening violence against me. How shall I handle these infractions?”
“You won’t handle me at all,” I shoot back, reaching for the kettle.
It’s an empty gesture, but before my fingers brush the handle, he’s on me. Like a striking viper, he grabs me from behind. One arm is an iron band against my stomach, yanking me away from the potential weapon. His other big hand clamps over my nose and mouth, muffling my scream and my ability to draw breath.
I kick out at nothing as he lifts me off the floor and drags me out of the kitchen. Fear spikes through my system in a lightning strike, crackling and dancing from my core all the way to my fingers and toes. I surrender fully to our dark game, fighting him like a wild thing.