Page 23 of The Beast Who Bought Me
Despite all that, it’s still embarrassing to admit the truth. Twenty-one years old and never been kissed, let alone anything else.
“Do you think the Obelisk would lie to you?” I counter.
He laughs again, but it has an edge this time, and I catch the way his hands tighten on his thighs. “I think Clemenzas lie as easy as they breathe.”
This time I’m the one who leans forward, ignoring the shifting of the plug inside me. His attention snaps to the parting of my cloak. “Iama virgin. Which means I can be anything you want me to be.”
It’s going to happen sooner or later. I’d rather be the one in control when it does. So I slide from the seat to my knees on the floor, letting the cloak gape wide, and rest my hands on his thighs.
“With your permission?” I murmur.
He sits perfectly still but his gaze locks onto my mouth. I think I’ve won.
Then his hand shoots out, wraps around my throat, andlifts. He throws me back into my seat like I weigh nothing. “I don’t want your whore tricks, Clemenza. Try that again and you’ll regret it.”
I’m gasping, more from shock than the brief pressure on my throat. I was sure he wanted me. His whole body went taut when I knelt before him. But he’s fighting it, denying himself.
No. Not himself. He’s denyingmepower.
This complicates things. A man ruled by his appetites can be manipulated. A man who can resist temptation when it’s literally on its knees before him?
That’s a different kind of monster entirely.
He’s watching me with amusement. “Did you think it would be that easy?” he asks. “That you could bat those pretty lashes and I’d forget what your father did to mine?”
Carefully, I say, “I thought you might be like the other men who were bidding on me tonight.”
“I’m not like any other man. Andyou’renot going to whore your way out of what’s coming.”
Oh, but heislike other men. He’s just better at fighting it. The bulge in his pants hasn’t entirely subsided. He wants me. He just won’t let himselfhaveme, not if I’m the one calling the shots.
So I’ll have to make him think it’s his idea.
“We’re almost home,” he goes on. “So I’ll tell you the rules you’ll be living by for the next year.”
“I’m on tenterhooks,” I say before I can stop myself.
He reaches for the window control, lowering it a fraction. The November air rushes in, cutting through the interior warmth and raising goosebumps across my exposed skin.
“Then listen up, golden boy, because I’m only going to tell you once. You break these rules, you’ll hurt in ways you never imagined possible. Understand?”
“I’m all ears.”
“Rule number one,” he says, finger tapping lightly on the window control, “you do what I fucking tell you.”
The window drops another inch.
“Rule two: refer to rule fucking one.”
Another inch on the window. I start to shiver.
“You do what you’re told, we’ll get along fine.”
“And if I don’t?” I manage through gritted teeth.
The window drops all the way down, icy night air rushing in and all around me. He leans forward to place his palm flat against my bare chest, feeling the tremors I can no longer control.
“Then I’ll make you suffer until you’re begging me for death—and I won’t give it to you.”
