Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Okay,” I say, ripping it off like a Band-Aid, starting with the basics. “I consent to you using my body at will. However, it’s a two-way street. If you get to fuck me whenever the feeling strikes, then I get to ride your cock at my say-so. If you’re in some kind of business meeting and I need to fuck, then you’ll excuse yourself to take care of me, just as I’m expected to spread my thighs and bend over for you.”
He rubs a hand down his face, taking a step back to put space between us. “Business is business. I will not excuse myself to fuck you,” he states. “However, I brought you here, and if you have needs, then they are my responsibility. If you need to fuck, we’ll fuck.”
I nod, feeling as though we’re gaining traction. “Okay,” I continue. “I’m on board with you referring to me as Angel or Sweet Angel. However, I would like it if you could call me by my name. It’s the only piece of me that is truly mine, and I wish to hold on to it.”
His gaze hardens. “I will not.”
“You will,” I push, fixing him with a hard stare, letting him know that this is a hill I’m one hundred percent ready to die on. “My name is Chiara and when you call for me, you will use it. I will not forfeit my identity for you or any man.”
“In my line of business, I cannot have anything linking you back to your old life. You belong to me now.”
“Are you willing to compromise?” I question, all too curious about what this particular line of business is that would require me to lose my name. Though considering he’s kidnapped me from a trafficking ring, it couldn’t be anything good. “I am not attached to my surname. I never knew my parents. I grew up in foster care, jumping from home to home. I believe my surname was given to me by the state after I was dumped at the doors of an orphanage with no way to identify myself. I can part with that if you wish.”
He considers me a moment before finally nodding. “Okay,” he says. “You have yourself a deal. I will call you by your name. Is there anything else?”
Nerves sink heavily into my stomach, and I figure now might be my only chance to get this out. “I know that you claimed me as your own in that underground warehouse, and for some reason, you saved me from that misery. I will never be able to thank you enough. But you will not address me as your property. I wish to be your equal, and I know that’s not something you can offer me. However, I would like it if you could try, or if it could be something we work toward. I wish to come and go as I please and you need to trust that I will come home to you.”
He shakes his head. “No. I cannot allow that.”
Clenching my jaw, I push him a little harder, relying on his infatuation to carry this home. “You can and will. This is your home after all, is it not? You can allow anything you like, and while you have offered me free rein, you have also offered me limitations. I don’t do well when someone puts limits on me. If you wish for me to have free rein, then offer it openly and freely. I won’t lie to you. I am intrigued by you, and while you scare the shit out of me, you also draw me in. You have warned me of the dangers of betraying you, of refusing you, and I trust you to keep your word. So I am asking the same of you. Trust me. Trust me when I tell you that I will not betray you.”
“That’s not something I am willing to bend on, Chiara,” he says, using my name for the first time. “However, given time, it is something I am willing to discuss again.”
“Okay, good.”
“I do wonder, if I am not to refer to you as my property, then what shall you be?”
I shake my head, hesitating as I step in a little closer and rest my hand against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart through his suit.
I look up into those dark, stormy eyes, my chin lifting. “That’s for you to decide.”
His eyes flame as his hand comes down on top of mine, maybe just a little more than a slight infatuation. He takes my waist with his other hand, pulling me in against him as he leans in, letting me see the dangerous man who lives inside. “I am not the hero you think I am, Angel. I am not a good man.”