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“I take it back,” I say, and I turn away from him.

“Aw, c’mon,” he mutters, putting a hand on my arm.

I push him off. “No. I think you only did that to make me like you again. It’s not going to work.”

His brows rise. “You see right through me, don’t you?”

Not sure if he means that in a serious or a sarcastic, you’re being a bitch way. Not that it matters, because I’ll take anything over seeing that smug face of his again when he notices I’m having trouble fighting the attraction.

Suddenly, he grabs my wrist and holds on to it. “Lucky for you, I see right through you too.”

“Lies,” I say.

But he corners me against the desk, pinning my wrist and me along with it. “I think you know I’m not the one lying here,” he muses, his lips twisted, like a devil trying to persuade me to step into the fire with him. Every inch he leans in, it becomes harder to resist temptation. “And I think you know as well as I do that you want me.”

I try to ignore the growing hunger pooling in my body. I must always remember who he is and what he does for a living. “Is this what you do? Is that how you get them to stay?”

He frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“The others,” I hiss. “Don’t play coy with me. I wasn’t the first girl you had in this house.”

He cocks his head and snorts. “Oh, you mean previous sinners.”

I gulp as the thoughts swirl through my head about all the filthy things he’s done to my body and just how much I enjoyed them.

“I have fucked some of my guests previously,” he says. “But none since you came into my life.” With the back of his hand, he strokes my cheek. “But that isn’t really what you’re asking now, is it? You want to know if we’re exclusive. Because you’re jealous.”

My eyes widen, and my jaw drops. “I am not!”

That infuriating smirk reappears on his face, and I’m about this close to just smacking him. “You don’t have to fight over me, Angel. I’m all yours. Have been for a long time.”

“Stop,” I hiss, trying to shoo the blush from my cheeks. “This is not about that.”

“Then what is it about, hmm?” he muses, that same insufferable smirk still lodged firmly on his face. “Because it seems to me like it is.”

He’s so close now that I can feel his breath on my lips, and my eyes instinctively close. “Remember when we were under the shower at your place? How desperate you were for more kisses?” he whispers. “How desperate you were for me to fuck you?”

I gasp when our lips touch, and my breath hitches in my throat. How does he so easily subdue me? Does he know so well how to dominate me, with all those thick muscles and those dirty smiles? Or is it because I succumb so easily to a man who offers me just a whiff of an escape?

“Let me love you, Amelia,” he whispers, his words tugging at my heartstrings.

And within seconds, his mouth lands on mine.

At first, his kiss is soft as his lips swipe gently across mine. Like he intends to show me he can be sweet, and that he wants to take this slow to get me used to the idea. He never kissed me like this before, so full of emotion, as though he wants nothing more than for me to love him back.

But I can’t. I can’t love someone who does this to people. To me.

“I can’t,” I whisper, but it’s futile against his lips. “I can’t give up my freedom.”

His hands find their way up my arms until he cups my face with both hands, desperate for more kisses.

“And I can’t give you up,” he says between kissing me.

His tongue swivels between my lips until they part, and he claims my mouth too. I can’t stop this onslaught of polarizing emotions swirling through me. I hate him. I hate him so much for what he’s done to me, yet at the same time, I can’t even say no, can’t push back and deny him because my own body wants him just as badly as he wants me. Lust is threatening to overtake me, but I don’t know if I really want to stop it.

And soon, his hands find their way down my neck to my back, where he fumbles with the zipper. With a grunt, he tears the dress down, setting my body on fire, while never taking his lips off mine.

“Let me take you,” he groans against my lips. “I want you all for myself. I need you, Amelia.”

I’m torn between hate and lust, between never wanting to see him again and wishinghe would kiss me and fuck me until I forget who we truly are and stop thinking about the fact he’s the one who stole my freedom away.

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