But it’s more than that.
It’s like he thinks he owns me and not in a “I paid for her” kind of way. More like in a primal, feral caveman way. It makes me wonder how screwed up I am, because I like feeling that sense of ownership over me. In a way, it makes me feel safe and protected.
“I’ll be sure to send up some lovely options for you to wear,” Carly says to me with a soft smile and then glances at Winston. “Goodbye, Mr. Constantine. Thank you again.”
Carly leaves, and I arch a brow at Winston. “You choke him out and he thanks you?”
“I just tipped him ten grand.” He smirks. “Who needs to apologize when money speaks for you?”
I make a pretend gagging motion that has him pouncing on me again. This time, though, I’m dressed so I don’t feel as vulnerable. He grips my jaw, angling my head up and kisses me like he’s shackling me to him. The kiss is too urgent—too violent—to do anything except accept his terms.
I belong to him.
It’s unspoken, but the agreement shivers its way down my spine.
“I have to leave,” he grumbles. “They’ll be there soon.”
Another bout of nerves consumes me. I hadn’t been joking when I told him I wanted him to be careful. There was something in the air last night between Morelli and Winston that made me sick to my stomach. It’s more than bad blood. Something far more sinister. And somehow, I got caught right up in the middle of it.
“I’ll be right here,” I say, pulling away from his grip. “Cleaning this already immaculate condo.”
He smirks. “Be ready. I might request something naughty later. Something humiliating.”
If anyone else told me they allowed a man to do this to them and accepted money for it, I’d tell them they needed to seek therapy. He’s a villain who looks the part of a golden prince. It’s an addictive combination that has me all sorts of confused.
“If the price is right,” I sass back, my cheeks flashing hot.
I peruse his fitted charcoal-gray suit all the way to the bulge in his slacks. His cock is hard and strains against the fabric. My own panties dampen at the sight, and my clit pulses as I remember his touch from earlier.
“Keep looking at my dick like you want to know it on a first-name basis, Cinderelliott, and I’m going to make you give it a proper greeting. One where you bow on your knees and kiss the crown.”
My eyes dart back to his. Depravity shines in his dark blue eyes. I should run far, far away from this man, because his depths promise a path I won’t come back from. His proclivities are unique but twisted. Ones I will become irrevocably changed by.
Do I want to change?
When I’m thinking clearly, no. However, when he eats me alive with a simple stare, I want to strip for him and worship him from my knees.
Winston Constantine makes me weak.
“Enjoy your day,” I croak out. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
His lips kick up on one side in a half-grin. “See you soon. Be prepared to finish this conversation later.”
He storms off, vacating the condo without another word. I suck in a lungful of air that still smells like him. Spicy. Expensive. Clean. Masculine.
“I’m in trouble, Shrimp,” I call out to my parakeet that’s fluttering his wings from the chandelier. “He’s going to wreck me.”
Shrimp sings like he agrees, but he doesn’t sound entirely mad about it. In fact, Shrimp appears to love his new digs. I guess if I were a bird and suddenly had more space to fly, I’d be chipper too.
I spend the next hour dusting. The dust doesn’t exist, but I need to keep my mind busy. Otherwise, I’ll worry about Winston’s meeting with the Morelli man and just how much money my safety is worth. Shrimp, my nosy bird, follows me around, chirping loudly from my shoulder as I explore rooms I’ve never seen in Winston’s condo.
Buzz.
I toss the duster down and quickly read my text, hoping for news from Winston. When I realize it’s from one of the Terror Triplets, I freeze.
Scout: I’m sorry for mishandling you, dear sis. Please accept my apologies. I’m just a boy who doesn’t know his own strength. Forgive me.
I cringe at his ridiculous apology.
Me: Lose my number.
Scout: We’re family. Don’t be like that.
Family doesn’t hurt one another the way he hurt me last night.
Me: You’re nothing to me, Scout. Nothing.
Scout: I’ll persuade you. You’ll see.
His ideas of persuasion make me shudder. No thank you. I’m about to respond when someone raps on the door. For a split second, I worry Scout has found me. I urge Shrimp to fly to his chandelier and then make my way to the front door. I peek through the hole and am relieved to see Nate rather than Scout. I’m about to open the door when I think better of it.