Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“You’re done now.” I’m not playing anymore. The need to punish her for running claws at my chest.
I consider tossing her over my shoulder or cradling her in my arms and quickly think of the easiest way to get her out of here.
“Come here.” If she moves away from me, it’ll hurt her. She reluctantly steps in front of me, and the world falls away. The only sound is our rapid breathing in the dense quiet of the forest.
“Please,” she whispers. I don’t know if she’s asking for mercy or freedom, but she’ll get neither.
“Please what? Let you go? Or consider easing up on your punishment for running? The answer to both of those questions is no.”
I lean in, relishing the sound of her rapid breathing. Even damp with perspiration, she smells like spring, a delicate, sweet, floral scent with a slightly exotic undertone. What is that?
She licks her lips and swallows but doesn’t look away. Her eyes, as warm as molten honey, fairly glower at me. She clamps her lips together.
“You’re clever, aren’t you?” Her eyes spark with intelligence and wit even though she’s furious with me. “I don’t know why you’re so angry. You’re the one who ran. Tell me.” I shake my head. “Did your family never tell you what your future would hold?”
I don’t know why I’m talking to her. I don’t know why I’m not tossing her over my shoulder or dragging her by the hair back home, or at the very least, punishing her, right here, for putting me to the test and making me chase her.
“Of course I knew they’d marry me off to some high-paying creep,” she seethes.
I quirk a corner of my lips. “You’ll learn to respect your husband, Princess.”
Fire sparks in her eyes. “You are not my husband yet, and I’m definitely no princess.” She swallows and I wish I could look more clearly into her eyes in the dark. I will, when she’s spread beneath me taking my cock. “I promise I’ll go with you, I just can’t go right now. I have…I have things I have to take care of.”
I snort. “I’m sure your socials will survive without a selfie refresh for a little while.”
That touches a nerve. Her nostrils flare. “Will your ego survive a few seconds of challenge?”
I could overpower her so easily it’s laughable. I could bully her or manhandle her, but that’s all too easy, too simple. Predictable.
I have other ways to show her who’s in charge.
When I reach my hand out to touch her, she flinches.
Taken aback, my hand freezes mid-air. She was ready for a backhand.
I’ve got no qualms about my palm across her ass if she deserves it, and I can already tell she fucking will. Hell, she might even learn to fucking like it. But only a pussy backhands a woman.
Christ, who did I murder in a past life to warrant literally getting into bed with the fucking Bianchis?
I want her to know she belongs to me, starting now.
I drag my thumb across her lips, smearing pink gloss. I watch her reaction when I part her lips and press my thumb inside her mouth.
I’m unprepared for the sensual feel of her lips wrapped around my finger. My cock aches.
“Something tells me you’re teachable,” I say thoughtfully. “I’ll train you to submit to me.”
The fluttering of her eyelashes and rapid breathing tell me she isn’t as unaffected by me as she likes to think she is. I remove my thumb and pat her cheek firmly. “You’re beautiful for a brat.”
It’s impossible to read microexpressions in the dark, and she’s obviously well-versed in schooling her reactions. But I don’t miss her tone of voice. “You’re acceptable for a villain.”
I touch my hand to my chest. “A villain. I’ve always liked villains so much more than heroes, don’t you? Anyone could be a hero. It takes class and balls to be a villain.” I reach for her hair again and give it another tug. “We’re leaving. We can pick up this little chat later.” I whisper into the curve of her ear. “Don’t try anything stupid, or you’ll find yourself bent over the hood of my car with my belt across your ass while I make an example of you. Is that how you want to leave here?”
Still holding her head up high, she doesn’t respond.
“Respect, Harper.”
“Respect’s earned,” she seethes.
“And sometimes, respect is demanded and taken. I intend to take what’s mine.”
My hand still entwined in her hair, I march her toward the edge of the trees. I imagine her family’s watching, hidden in the darkened interior of the house. Fucking pussies.
The air is cool and crisp, the only sounds our footsteps on crunchy leaves and the hum of the car that idles in the driveway, waiting for us.
“Not one toe out of line,” I warn, ready to whip her ass if she pulls a move now.