Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 120475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
I grin. And before he can stop me—
Boop.
I flick the first domino.
Bane exhales sharply through his nose as the dominos collapse in a perfect wave, the soft click-click-click of their downfall filling the space between us.
I gasp, bringing a hand to my mouth in mock horror. “Oh no,” I whisper, eyes wide. “I definitely didn’t mean to do that.”
His breath leaves him in a slow, measured exhale. He places his coffee down with the kind of restraint that suggests he’s resisting the urge to throttle me.
I grin. “Well, at least now you have something to do while we drink the rest of our coffee.”
He doesn’t move. Just watches me, long and slow, until my smirk falters slightly under the weight of his stare. Until my pulse stumbles. Until I realize I might’ve started a game I didn’t fully understand.
Then, he speaks, his voice like a low rumble of distant thunder.
“Moira.”
I swallow. “Mm-hmm?”
“You’re going to regret that. You need order in your life.”
I roll my eyes. “And you think you can give it to me?”
His gaze burns into me. “Yes.”
A slow, magnificent shiver runs down my spine.
Oh dear. I have the horrible, no good, absolutely deliciously delightful feeling that I’m about to be in trouble.
And I do so love trouble.
TWELVE
BANE
“Yes,” she whispers, big Bambi eyes blinking up in a way that has me wanting to toss her up against the wall right now and reach under the flimsy skirt of her dress to thumb her cunt and see if my offer has her wet already.
She’s not as vulnerable as last night, and after a good night’s sleep, I know she’s sober. She’s admitted she’s a sex addict, so she’d probably be game. I could get verbal consent and be balls-deep in the cunt I’ve been obsessing about in less than sixty seconds.
Do it. Take what’s yours.
“Good,” I snap, the word overly crisp. “We begin today.”
I turn away from the coffee table of fallen dominos. “Training starts with breakfast.”
I ignore her huff of protest, heading towards the kitchen because if I’m going to model discipline, I better start exerting some right fucking now over my own beast.
This is no spur-of-the-moment decision.
I stayed awake all night, turning it over in my mind. At two a.m., I got out the dominos. The precision and control calmed my thoughts and helped me think. Again and again, I dissected every angle, every possibility, and every risk. And every single time, I arrived at the same conclusion.
First, I have to bring us both under control.
And second—she must be mine.
I covet her with a lordly possessiveness that should unnerve me.
But fear is where I faltered before. Fear of myself. Fear of my past. Fear of my own dark, snarling desires.
I do not have to be afraid of my hunger, just as I will teach her she does not have to be afraid of hers.
In discipline, we will both be free. We can tame our animals.
It’s true that my father taught me to just take whatever I wanted. To be the conqueror. To let nothing stand in my way. I’ve spent years rejecting his lessons, refusing to be that kind of man anymore. But denying my nature doesn’t erase it. The drive to dominate and possess never left.
Maybe it’s not wrong to give in to obsession as long as the object of my obsession wants to be devoured.
How is a dominant that much different from a shepherd? Both guide, watch, and protect their flock. I ensure the well-being of the ones entrusted to my care as a priest. And Moira… she is in need of care, whether she knows it or not.
I will take care of her. And indulge my cravings at the same time.
But only if this hunger is shared.
I glance over my shoulder at her as I cook.
She sits cross-legged on the chair at the table, scrolling on her phone absentmindedly while she watches me from her peripheral. The sight of her here, in my house, twists something dark inside me.
I saw the hunger in her eyes that night at the club. Felt it in the shudder of her body.
Even now, she bites her bottom lip. She wants this, too. She may not understand it yet, but she will. Because I will make her crave like she has never craved before.
I plate her breakfast—a simple omelet and fruit, nothing too heavy. She looks like she barely eats. We’ll work on that.
I set the plate down in front of her. “You’re quiet this morning.”
She looks up, startled. “Oh—I—” She hesitates, eyes flickering with something like guilt. “Is that bad?”
I shake my head. “There is no bad or good here.”
“What are you, like, Yoda?” She smirks.
I arch a brow. “Well, I’m a little taller.”
She actually laughs, and it’s a sound I want. I want to hoard it and pull it from her again and again until it’s mine.