Page 38 of His Dark Pact

It was still an absurdly humbling thing to have to ask, but strangely, she noticed how it jarred a little less than the first time she’d been obliged to speak.

“Yes...” He strung the word out into one lengthy syllable. “But I’d like to see more of you first.”

More of her?

Their gazes locked. Was he mad? There really wasn’t much more she could display without being half-naked.

“Sir?” Her throat dried as she prompted him.

“Those wonderful breasts of yours.” His right hand rose, skimming over the thin silk separating his fingers from her nipple. “Let me see them.”

“But...” Time protracted as the room around her started to spin.

Except, nothing was spinning. She knew that.

“Perhaps I’ll see more of your tight little butt later, too.” His smile was dangerous, and all at once, the answer to the riddle that had been dancing around her head, plaguing her since the prior night, burst into her mind.

Hewasdangerous.

His smile, his easy self-assurance, his house, and his money—all of it was one giant stop sign she should have run from, but for some reason, she tripped straight through every one of the red flags and found herself there. At his table. At that moment.

“But first, Amy... your tits, please.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal, sir.” She was already in far too deep, but standing there, she swore she sensed the tide rising higher over her head. “That wasn’t what we agreed.”

She couldn’t believe it had to be said. It was one thing to dress like a maid to satisfy his whims, but actually stripping? She wasn’t all right with that. There was nothing all right about that.

“Clause seven, Amy.” His expression was hard as he held her gaze. “Rememberwhat you agreed to?”

“Yes,” she started, “but—”

“Let me help,” he interrupted, reaching into his jacket pocket.

She watched, panting, as he unfurled the sheets of paper he’d stored there, smoothing them out on the table in front of her. As though he’d expected the exact conversation they were having, she noticed he’d already highlighted the clause he was referring to in bright yellow ink.

“Here it is. Clause seven.” He pointed to the appropriate words. “Mrs. Kendal will be responsible for all and any other duties Mr. Kyle deems appropriate for the duration of the contract.”

Shit, she had agreed to that.

“Yes, but I didn’t think you meant anything like this.” She motioned to herself, realizing she was close to tears. “It doesn’t say I have to undress!”

Kyle had managed to systemically humiliate her since she’d arrived, and while a part of her had reveled in his dominant attention, another part was struggling to cope. She might have been poor before they’d met, but at least she’d had some self-respect. What kind of woman exposed herself to meet contractual requirements?

The answer floated around her mind in reply.

The kind who dresses up like a kinky maid to please her boss.

The kind who likes it.

Me.

“It meantanythingI said,” he replied flatly. “Maybe I should have added a line about wanting your unquestioning obedience, as well?”

She closed her eyes, fighting the well of tears threatening to break. She couldn’t pin down if the emotion was derived from embarrassment, disgust, or self-awareness. She did like the way he made her feel, but she hadn’t been ready for his crude order.

“So, the choice is yours.” His resignation echoed around her. “Either comply, or you have the right to end the agreement and walk away. I’ll ask Stevens to take you home.”

“I don’t have a home.” Despite her defiance, her voice crackled with her emotion.