Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I strip my tie off in one smooth motion, slipping it through the collar and letting it fall to the floor. My fingers work the buttons of my shirt methodically, one by one. A performance for her benefit.
She hesitates, then toes off her heels. Her hands tremble as she reaches for the zipper of her skirt, pushing it down her legs without looking at me. Then she’s buying time, folding it with precise movements. Playing for dignity she no longer has.
I don’t help her. Don’t make her more comfortable. Don’t look away, either. This is the consequence she chose.
My shirt joins her skirt on the bed. Then my pants, revealing the knife strapped to my ankle. She looks at it with wide eyes. Like she’s shocked I was armed. I stand before her in black boxer briefs, watching her watch me. The air between us feels charged, dangerous.
When she finally unbuttons her blouse, her fingers fumble on the third button. She’s shaking, face flushed with humiliation as she slides it off her shoulders. The T-shirt goes on quickly, like armor.
“I said no fucking bra. You think those silicone-filled whores out there are wearing underwear? Take. It. Off.”
She turns away, reaches under the shirt, and performs some female magic that extracts the bra without removing the shirt. Meanwhile, I’m looking at her round, smooth cheeks peeking out from either side of the thong riding the crack of her ass.
When Emmaleen turns back to face me, her shoulders squared and chin lifted. The white cotton clings to her curves, outlining every detail I’m not supposed to notice. Her nipples peak against the thin fabric, a physical reaction she can’t control despite the defiance burning in her eyes.
I’ve seen that look before. Saturday night at the hotel, when crystal shattered around her feet and that pompous manager berated her. The same quiet dignity. The same refusal to break.
It’s the wrong fucking move right now.
My cock hardens instantly, blood rushing south with such force I nearly sway. The same reaction I had in the shower that night, when I first imagined having her beneath me. When I planned this entire week.
Her confidence pisses me off. What the fuck does she have to be confident about? She has no fucking idea who Rico is. What he’s done. What he would do to her if I gave him the chance.
“You think this is a game?” I ask, my voice low and dangerous.
She doesn’t answer. Just holds my gaze like she’s my equal. Like we’re negotiating terms.
I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my boxer briefs and drop them to the floor. My erection springs free, heavy and hard between us.
She should be staring. Intimidated. Overwhelmed.
Instead, her eyes remain locked on mine. She deliberately refuses to look down, to acknowledge what’s happening. To fully see me.
And that’s the problem here.
She hasn’t fully seen me yet.
I close the distance between us in two strides. She backs up instinctively, one step, then another, until she runs out of room. Her back hits the door with a soft thud.
I reach down, grabbing her under her knees, and hike her up against the door. My hips pin her lower body, my erection pressed against her core through the thin barrier of her underwear. Forced to grab me by the shoulders to steady herself, her breath catches, eyes widening with the first real flicker of fear.
I lean in close, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. “You have no idea what you’ve just agreed to.” She shivers against me.
Her hands brace against my shoulders, neither pushing me away nor pulling me closer. Suspended in indecision.
“You’re mine now. As long as you’re here, you’re mine.” I press harder against her, making sure she feels every inch of what she’s provoked. “You will do everything I say. And it all starts now.”
I pull back just enough to see her face. “Look at me.”
She swallows hard, fear evident in the rapid pulse at her throat. But she lifts her gaze to mine, steady and unwavering. Taking my challenge head-on.
“Miss Take,” I whisper, close enough to feel her breath on my lips. “Only when this is all over will you realize just how big of a mistake you’re making right now.”
Emmaleen is breathing so hard, she’s almost panting. Her breasts heave against the thin white cotton, each inhale pushing her nipples against my chest. She’s still staring, still defiant—like a woman who thinks she has options.
I lower my voice to a precision cut. “You’ll be the only woman with clothes on. The rest will be naked or might as well be.” I grind against her, making sure she feels every inch of what she’s provoking. “Every man out there will be looking at you, wondering what’s underneath. Wanting to rip this shirt off. Wanting to see what I’m keeping for myself.”