Page 25 of Bought

I shouldn’t have let her come close, moving slowly, that cloak swirling around her, revealing then hiding her pale skin and luscious curves.

Except, I’d done all those things. Firstly, because I’d wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to wait until I’d left before finding some other place to auction off her virginity for the second time — if money was her main motivation for doing any of this, that was.

I’d wanted her word that she would stay here and keep herself safe.

Backing away when she’d started to walk toward me would have been the sensible thing to do, to keep the distance between us. But the dominant in me refused. I couldn’t give ground to a little one like her, it would be to acknowledge her as a threat to my control and that I couldn’t allow.

She might test me, but she wouldn’t best me. I wouldn’t let her.

Then she’d put her hand on me.

She’d tried it before in Arcadia, but I’d stopped her then, and I should have stopped her now. But that would have been to admit my control wasn’t equal to the task, and again, I couldn’t allow that.

However, letting her touch me was a mistake.

Her palm was warm, the feeling of slight pressure against my cock sending a crackle of electricity through me, making me harden. She was very close, looking up at me through pale lashes, her clear gray eyes dark.

I knew why they were dark. Despite her fear of me, it was clear that she also wanted me.

So why not take her?

Because I’d told myself I wouldn’t. Because she’d been hurt in the past by a man, which complicated anything I wanted to do with her. Because I didn’t trust her, and I certainly didn’t trust this little seduction attempt.

She wanted something from me, and I knew it.

What does it matter?

I forced the thought away. I wasn’t going to change my mind, no matter how she pushed.

Yet, my dominant side was shifting restlessly, incensed that she was touching me without permission. Touch was a privilege she had to earn, and she needed to be taught that.

Yet, I didn’t move, letting her palm rest on my zipper.

Her gaze flared as she felt my physical reaction. “You’re hard.”

“You’re a naked woman and you have your hand on my cock,” I said coolly. “What did you expect?”

She swallowed and behind the obvious arousal in her gaze, I saw the spark of challenge. And I should have moved then, too, but I didn’t.

So she squeezed me a little harder.

Another sharp jolt of electricity shot through me, and this time my patience began to slip. She was persistent, this little one. Constantly kicking back at me, constantly challenging me.

It’s almost as if she knows what you are. Almost as if she craves it. And you want to give it to her, that’s why you’re still here.

The thought was insidious, a trap I couldn’t fall into. Because of course she wouldn’t know my preferences, no one did. And as for her craving it… That was up for debate, especially when I suspected she was too inexperienced to really understand the complexities of desire and submission. She was a virgin and her first time with a man should not be on her knees.

You could give her a taste of it. Frighten her off.

Or I could simply turn and walk out the door.

I took her wrist in a tight grip, and pulled her palm away, intending to let her go and then leave.

Except like that moment back in Arcadia, I didn’t.

Her gaze had darkened into deep charcoal, and there was a flush across her cheekbones, and she was looking at me as if she was waiting for something.

“If you really knew what you were getting yourself into,” I said softly. “You would not be doing that.”