Page 34 of Blossom

In some strange way, she’s beguiled me. It’s like she’s a bird of prey and she’s sunk her talons into my soul.

Funny. I never thought I had a soul.

I’m not in love with her. I hardly know her.

But I feel like fate has led me to her. As if I’m in some strange paranormal romance and I found my fated mate.

Because the one word that comes to my mind when I look at Mary is just that.

Mine.

Chapter Ten

Mary

When he looks at me with his blue eyes, I’m ready to follow him anywhere.

But I know better. I know I’m not ready, no matter how much Brenda tells me I need to get back in the saddle.

I’m just not ready to give myself over to a Dominant yet.

As attracted as I am to Ronan, and as much as I’m beginning to like him, I don’t expect him to wait around forever.

Still, a concrete block dropped off my shoulders when he told me he didn’t want me to introduce him to other subs.

That would’ve cracked my heart in two, which makes absolutely no sense.

I don’t normally see Dominants outside the club. We don’t date. Yet I took Ronan to get a slice of pizza last night, and it felt…right.

It felt normal. It felt so normal that I didn’t want the evening to end, so I took him to the Top of the Rock, one of my favorite places in the world.

Maybe I do want to date.

But I can’t date Ronan O’Connor. He’s as forceful a Dominant as I’ve met in a long time.

Power exudes from him, as if he’s surrounded in a glowing gold halo of dominance.

Yet he thinks this is a date. He actually used the word date.

Maybe the best thing is to ask him.

“Ronan?”

“Yes?” He takes a sip of his drink.

I pause a moment, trying to gather the right words. “Why are you with me tonight? Why don’t you want me to introduce you to another submissive?”

He leans into me. “I’ve met the submissive I want.”

My cheeks warm, and my nipples harden against the stretchy fabric of my dress. I’m sure my whole chest must be scarlet, even in the dim lighting.

“You seem very sure of yourself,” I say.

“A good Dominant is always sure.”

He’s not wrong.

“What if I’m not sure this is me anymore?” I ask.

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