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“No… You’re not.” He smirked, and I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at his meaning.
“I’m never going back to him,” I continued, fisting my hands at my sides with as much determination as I could muster.
“No. Do you know why?” he pressed, his smirk growing wider. I swallowed hard, just staring at him for a moment while I tried to figure him out.
“Why?” I finally asked, my uneasiness rolling through me like a sudden summer storm. My skin prickled and I took another step back, lifting my chin slightly and trying to appear as strong as I could.
“Because now you’re mine,” he said darkly.
I stared into those soulful blue eyes in disbelief. I was seething. I didn’t belong to anybody, least of all a man.
“I’m no one’s property,” I spat. I willfully ignored the building heat in my lower belly.
It couldn’t be desire.
No.
That would be absolutely fucking batshit crazy.
He moved closer, and my skin prickled as his scent wafted toward me. At first, a sharp, invigorating hint of citrus hit my senses. Without meaning to, I breathed in deeply, taking in what was likely bergamot, or maybe orange zest, which gave it a refreshing, clean start. Then, it melded into a warmer, spicier note, with the unmistakable richness of sandalwood, blended with a touch of pepper and maybe even the slightest whisper of cinnamon. The intensity of it left my head reeling.
His closeness made me feel uncomfortable.
No, not just uncomfortable.
It made my skin flush with heat, my heart race, and my breathing quicken. And as much as I hated it, it wasn’t out of fear.
It was arousal.
“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re mine now. Mine to take. Mine to keep and mine to punish,” he said, his voice clipped and dark.
“What?” I whispered.
This couldn’t be happening. I was losing my mind. Maybe this was just some bad dream, a nightmare even, and I was just going to wake up at any moment, safe and warm in my bed. I wound my hand around my forearm and quickly pinched my skin, hoping to wake myself up, but the pain was instant.
This wasn’t a dream.
This was real.
I was so fucked.
He took another step closer, his body pressing into mine and my breath caught in my throat. His hand came up and grasped my chin, forcing me to look up at him. A shaky breath escaped my lips, exposing me far more than I liked.
This was quickly going from bad to worse.
“Now that I have your full attention, let me make myself perfectly clear. You are mine. I will decide what happens to you. I will decide what you do, when you do it, and how you do it,” he vowed.
“You have no right,” I spat, glaring daggers at him.
“I have every right, Ellie,” he replied, his grin causing a chill to race down my spine and goosebumps to break out all over my skin.
I had no idea what he had in mind, but I didn’t want to find out.
Not at all.
With all the strength I had left, I brought my knee up, fully intending to slam it right into his balls. He turned his hips just in time to evade my maneuver and wound his arm around my waist, easily lifting me off the ground as though I weighed nothing at all. With devastating speed, he sat down on the bed, and I landed facedown with a startled gasp.
Over his knees.
