Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
That doesn’t matter—hell, her feelings don’t really matter, not when it comes to keeping myself in check. In the long run, she should consider this a favor. Stopping myself from claiming her offers her a chance at freedom—if she ever pays off her father’s debt, that is.
I cling to the frustration hovering just beneath the surface, because the alternative is not something we’re thinking about right now. “Jesus Christ, Ely, it was a blow job. I didn’t take your virginity. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. Don’t make it something that it isn’t.”
She drops her gaze, and I pin her with a glare.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“It is something.” I eye her speculatively, playing back what I said until it hits me. “Fucking hell.” In essence, I did take one of her virginities because I’d bet money that was her first fucking blow job. Mixed with an unexpected and weird sense of shame is a feeling of victory. Mine was the first cock that took her throat.
Play your cards right; it could be the last. Could be the only.
I shove that thought away and concentrate. Ely’s talking, her soft, earnest voice doing something to my insides.
“That’s just it. I’m not trying to make it anything, but you’re acting weird, making it difficult for me to let it go.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say or do. All I’m doing is sitting here. Would you have preferred I let him have you?” It’s a shitty response, but I need her to shut up, and the easiest way to make someone do that is to hit them where it counts.
“No. That’s not what I would’ve preferred. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make a big deal out of it. I just wanted to reassure you that nothing has to change between us. If it were up to me, I’d forget it even happened.”
“Sounds like it.” I arch a brow in question at her. “You're the only one talking about it, and somehow you want me to think you want to forget it happened?”
Her mouth opens and then closes like a fish out of water. After a few seconds, she finally mumbles, “I do.”
“Then shut up about it. What’s done is done.”
“Okay,” she whispers, tucking her bottom lip under her top. I look away, my desire for her growing tenfold, burning hotter than the sun. Fuck her. Fuck this need she’s planted deep inside my chest with her pretty eyes and her soft lips and her and delicate features. She’s making me crave things I have no right to take. I want to hurt her for making me feel this way. Mark her skin. But touching her would only set me off at this point, so my only other option is to cut her with my words.
“You really don’t need to worry about anything changing between us. I can promise nothing has changed. You’re still the maid who owes me a debt that you’ll never be able to repay, at least not in this lifetime. Sucking my cock doesn’t change that... although maybe I’ll let you do it again, just for the fun of it.”
It happens in a flash, so quick that I don’t even have time to react. One minute, she’s sitting, and the next, she is out of her seat, her palm colliding with my cheek. The sting of her slap ripples across my face and twists my head to the side from the impact.
“You’re despicable. I hate you.”
Lord, please explain to me why my cock is harder than it’s ever been in my entire life? Her violence makes me harder than steel, and I find it even more difficult to focus. I’d love nothing more than to show her what happens when you fuck with a man like me, but I can’t cross that line. I won’t cross that line. Swallowing down my arousal, I focus on her anger. I cling to it, because if she hates me then she’ll stay away from me, right?
“Weird, you weren’t saying that yesterday. In fact, you said you’d do anything I wanted you to as long as I didn’t sell you. Maybe I made a mistake when I didn’t let Yanov take you home? Or maybe Sidorov? He wanted to fuck you, too.”
Red spots bloom on her cheeks, confirming her embarrassment, but beneath it is fear. It shines like a beacon of light in her eyes. I know I’m an asshole, but someone has to be. I need her to hate me, need it like my next breath. She takes a trembling step back, her lip quivering, and I can physically see her slipping somewhere else in her mind.
“Did I? Did I make a mistake, Elyse?”
“Please…I’m sorry. Please don’t let him hurt me again.”
“Again?” I growl, my emotions spiraling. I’m caught off guard by her words. She’s so fragile, broken. As bad as I want to hurt her, I want to protect her, too.