Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
And then, he stood up from the dinner table and took a step back. His cock was so hard, and it took every ounce of strength to step away. He didn’t say another word, just stepped out of the dining room. The food wouldn’t appeal to him now anyway. He went straight to his office where he left his door partially open, and he moved toward his desk. It was time for him to attempt to get some work done.
He would leave all the decision-making to Emily.
Dom didn’t believe in rape. When Emily came to him, it was going to be because she wanted him too. Besides, he knew she was attracted to him. He’d watched for the past three months how she reacted to him.
He didn’t know if she was strong enough and confident enough to act on those feelings.
He would find out.
Chapter Two
This was stupid.
Emily rolled over in bed and stared up at the ceiling. There was no way she was going to give in to his demands. They were awful. Horrifying. There was no way a gentleman would ever say such words to a lady, or to anyone.
And yet, she knew she loved every single word he said. Yes, it had surprised her, because she wasn’t used to men wanting anything to do with her. She was the lovely best friend, the person men lightly hit on the shoulder as being the helpful good pal.
She was never one to be desired. This was why she read a lot of romance books, because for a long time she had wanted to be. She accepted that she wasn’t and just lived life in her lane.
Until a few hours ago.
Dom had really messed with her mind and body. She was so aroused. Each word he spoke was right out of her erotic dreams. If she fell asleep right now, she knew she would dream of him. The only problem was what she was going to do about it.
She was a virgin. She didn’t know a single thing about the art of seduction or keeping a man. Some women were naturals, others were not. She was the “not” category.
She couldn’t deny her interest in him, which made her even more of a lame doormat. Wanting her captor. Desiring him.
She shoved the blanket from her body and climbed out of bed. Pacing the space by her bed, she walked up and down, trying to get her thoughts together. It was wrong. And yet she couldn’t help but think about it. How more lame and embarrassing could she get? She wanted to cry, or laugh. Would it be so bad? There was no way she could have sex in exchange for freedom.
Dom was a bad man. He was her father’s enemy. Grabbing a robe, she left her bedroom. She needed a glass of water, or a hot chocolate, or warm milk. She needed something to clear her head.
Walking to the top of the stairs, she descended them with every intention of going to the kitchen. Only, she saw the light coming from Dom’s office. Of course he was awake. The man functioned on barely any sleep.
She needed to just go to the kitchen, grab her glass of water, and go to bed. Only, her feet were not moving in the direction of the kitchen. One step in front of the other, she found herself getting closer to Dom’s office. This was all wrong. She needed to stop, turn around, and then she stood in the doorway of Dom’s office.
He was near the fire, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, showing off his thick, ink-covered arms. He held a glass in his hands, and she saw the dark liquid in the glass.
She was sure there was a part of her brain telling her to leave, to get the fuck out, to run and never look back. The only problem was there was a large part of her brain, probably seventy percent—no, ninety-nine percent—that was screaming at her to be with him.
Dom lifted his head and turned toward her. For the longest time, they just stared at each other, not making a sound. Silence. Only the crackling of the fire seemed to fill the void.
Emily wanted him. It was completely irrational. This man had kidnapped her. For all she knew, he was holding her for ransom, waiting for her father to pay some ridiculous price. Only, he wasn’t being cruel to her. She was not tied up rotting in some basement. He’d not hurt her.
Staring, she couldn’t deny her attraction to him. This didn’t make it right, she knew that. But for once, she didn’t want to do the responsible thing. Would it be wrong for one crazy moment to just enjoy what was happening?
“I accept,” she said.
The words were a little louder than a whisper.