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But she didn’t get it.
I didn’t want her begging at my feet as she played along with me; I wanted her scratching my eyes out and telling me to stop.
I wanted to hunt her down. But I didn’t want her to play dead and let me; I wanted her to scream and try to kill me.
Fuck.
Sourness filled my mouth.
It seemed my morality after murdering four men had returned, suffocating me under the very real knowledge that if I touched her now, I would pay for the privilege.
She only asked me to play along to earn her freedom.
I dropped my head and pinched the bridge of my nose.
She’d kissed me, hugged me, not because she felt anything for me but because she was so fucking brave and figured out how to manipulate me.
All it would take was making me fall in love with her—
I sighed heavily and stood.
She sucked in a breath, wrenching my eyes to hers.
Books and manuscripts might give me a way to survive each day, but seeing her standing there, brilliant beneath the afternoon sun…my attempt at a novel paled compared to her.
No fictional character would ever live up to her.
Christ, how did people do this?
How did they find the strength to care for someone and accept equal care in return?
I couldn’t be in my chaotic thoughts anymore.
Snatching my laptop, I stepped away from the lounger.
Ily balled her hands as if ready to fight instead of obey.
That one act of defiance made me rock fucking hard and starving.
If she cursed me. If she showed me a fraction of defiance, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I’d grab her by the throat and pin her against the willow tree. I’d be inside her before she gave me any sort of permission.
But slowly, she remembered her promises from a week ago and dropped elegantly to her knees.
She winced from her bruises.
She bowed her head with perfect subservience. “You’re hard, Master H. Feel free to use me however you want.” Her voice teased with falsity, but her offer was genuine.
I could have her.
I could have her any way I damn well wanted.
An awful surge of horror filled me.
This wasn’t my Ily.
This obedient, docile jewel reminded me far too much of the broken ones. Their willpower shattered and strength torn to pieces. She became the very jewel I could never touch because I couldn’t feel her fire anymore. Couldn’t burn alive with her anymore.
I-I can’t do this.
