Page 13 of Bought

Are you sure you don’t want his? See if you can melt all that ice.

No. Fuck no. What I wanted was to get away, put some distance between me and the strange feelings that I didn’t want churning inside me. Feelings that confused me, made me vulnerable and made me weak when I needed to be strong.

I was hard. Impregnable. A castle impossible to storm.

Yet, I knew that distance wouldn’t get me what I wanted. I had to get him to take me home and to do that, I needed him to want me in some way.

I gritted my teeth, ignoring the flickering heat at the pressure of his fingers, trying to ignore my fear and grab onto my usual go-to when I needed to be strong: anger. Not Isabel’s quick and fiery take-no-prisoners temper, but something colder, that burned longer.

I forced myself to look up at him, to withstand the intense pressure of his gaze. “Seems to me like you want to take me home,” I said. “In fact, it seems to me as if I already have your attention.”

His gaze didn’t waver, not for one second. He must be a man used to having everyone bow before him, and the fact that I hadn’t was surely galling. He’d no doubt be furious because when you didn’t give in, when you held your ground, men were always furious. They couldn’t stand any challenge to their authority.

I braced myself, waiting for his fury. Except it didn’t come.

His grip on me remained, yet his focus stayed cold, no hint of anger or fury burning in it. Yet something in it changed and sharpened as if I’d interested him, and deep in those icy depths, I thought I saw flickers of heat.

Something in me dropped away. Were those flickers of heat for me? Was I affecting him somehow?

My mouth dried, my heartbeat loud in my ears. I felt oddly shaken though I wasn’t sure why. I needed him to want me, so I should have been glad about it, and yet somewhere inside me there was a sensation that felt like…anticipation. Which was weird. Men wanting me hadn’t ever been a good thing, so why it should be exciting, I had no idea.

“You’re afraid,” he said, his blue gaze searching. “You were afraid when I took your chin, too. Why? Do you think I’ll hurt you?”

No one had ever asked me if I was afraid or wanted to know the reason for it, certainly, no guy had ever asked. They hadn’t cared about me one way or the other, so why did he? It hadn’t seemed to interest him before, so why now? Especially when he’d made it so clear he wasn’t about to take me anywhere, let alone home with him.

Whatever, he could suck it. He wouldn’t be getting any answers from me.

Shaking off his hand, I stepped in closer, despite the way my heart was beating, despite the warnings my brain kept shouting about how getting close to a man like this was dangerous. “I’m not afraid of you, Mr. Fox.” I hoped he didn’t hear the lie this time. “That’s not why I took my cloak off. And I don’t want you to rescue me.” I looked up at him from beneath my lashes and put a hand on his chest, my palm flat to the wool of his jacket. He felt warm and very, very hard. “I want you to fuck me.”

He didn’t move and his expression didn’t change, and I had the distinct impression that he knew exactly what words were going to come out of my mouth before I’d even said them. “Do you?” His tone was impossible to read. “If you want something, little one, it is customary to ask nicely. With a please and thank you.”

Anger coiled inside me. Why was he being so resistant? I was naked and almost pressed against him, practically begging him to fuck me, and he was refusing? Telling me to ask him nicely?

Did you ever think that he might not be like other boys?

Not at all. All boys were the same, especially powerful boys. Boys who thought that because they were bigger and stronger than you, they were entitled to have whatever they wanted from you. And if you didn’t want to give it to them, they’d take it, they didn’t give a shit.

I’d learned that lesson and I’d learned it the hard way.

So no, I wasn’t fucking begging, and I certainly wasn’t going to say please.

“Really?” I murmured. “I don’t think we need that, do we? Not when you’re going to pay me five hundred thousand for the privilege.” I ran my hand down the front of his jacket to the waistband of his pants and then down further, over the front of his fly.

Or at least, I tried to. But his fingers closed around my wrist before I could get below his belt, his grip like iron.

“No.” The word was flat and heavy, with no room for argument or protest. “You don’t get to take what you want whenever you want it.”

My breath caught hard. He didn’t want me to touch him? Seriously? I was the one taking what I wanted?

All I could do was stare at him, open-mouthed, his fingers around my wrist very strong and very warm. I wouldn’t be able to just shake his hand away.

“If you can’t keep your hands to yourself, I will have to tie them.” Before I had a chance to move or do anything else, he took my other hand in that same hard grip. “Is that what you want?” Slowly, his strength inexorable, he forced my wrists behind my back and held them there. “Would you like to be restrained?”

Panic coursed through me in an icy wave and for a second, I was blinded by it, the animal urge to get free almost choking me. But I fought it back. I couldn’t afford to fuck this up by giving in to fear.

His gaze pierced me. I couldn’t hear anything over the thunder of my own heart. For some reason, I didn’t understand, the deep blue of his eyes felt like a lifeline, a way out of the fear that had me by the throat. I couldn’t look away.

Then the panic began to recede, and I became conscious that the way he was holding me was forcing my back to arch, pressing my chest to his jacket, and that my nipples were brushing against the soft charcoal wool. I was breathing fast and now the fear had gone, something else was taking its place. Something hot and electric. A pressure.