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His hand is around my throat and my back to the wall again before I can process what happened. My hands fly up to his wrist, but the muscles I so love to admire keep me effectively pinned. I know the move I could do to get free from this but settle for digging my fingers into the tendons of his arms. His face twitches, but he doesn’t let go.

“Don’t you fucking get it,” he hisses, his face only inches from mine, “IknowI don’t fucking own this body, though god I fucking want to. Why do you think I’m so fucking angry?”

His thumb brushes against the side of my throat and he leans forward so his lips are close enough to my ear to feel the breeze.

“What I got? What I gave? That was just a fucking taste,” he whispers before pulling back so our eyes meet. “And Echo?”

“Yes?” I reply, more breathless than I’d like. The corner of his mouth turns up.

“When I own this body, it will be mine, and only mine. And that’s a fucking promise.”

He lets go of my neck and steps away, not stopping until he reaches the table. With his back to me, he puts his hands down flat. The tension across his shoulders is visible, even through the fabric of his shirt.

I swallow, bringing a hand up to my neck. I’m not hurt at all, quite the contrary.

That little display? That was fuckinghot.

But monogamy? Fuck. That’s never been my bag.

I’ve never had a relationship that didn’t stem entirely from sex, and already the hints of feelings I have for Killian scare the tits out of me. I walk over to the kitchen and grab a bottle from the cupboard, slamming a few inches of it. Liquid courage in hand, I raise my eyes to meet his.

“I haven’t done this shit before,” I admit, my teeth clenched.

He steps up to the opposite side of the breakfast bar.

“And?”

I feel myself flush.

“And I don’t know how.”

He gives me an exasperated look. “It’s pretty simple, Echo. You just say no to everyone else. Not that complicated.”

I swallow deeply. His face softens, and he steps around the bar, taking my hand in his. I’m pissed to see it shaking.

I can kill a man with a straight face and steady hand, but a real conversation about relationships has me shaking like a leaf.

“You’re exactly the type of woman that mothers warn their sons about,” he begins. His eyes look at our entwined hands, his thumb rubbing absent circles along my palm. “And since we met, I knew who you were. The persona, at least. I know there’s a lot more to you than that, though.”

His eyes meet mine.

“I know I shouldn’t want you, but I can’t help it. Since I saw you that first night at Eternity, you’re all I can think about. I don’t pretend to know the shit you’ve done, but if you’re willing to let me keep my past secrets and skeletons in the closet, then who the fuck am I to ask you to do otherwise.”

My jaw is practically on the floor.

“Echo?”

I nod, mouth still slightly agape. His hand comes up and rubs my lower lip, a hint of a smile on his before his expression gets serious once more.

“I want you. For real. I don’t care what you did before or who you fucked. I don’t even care if you want to dance for men. You’re fucking gorgeous and amazing at it. I will spend my days worshipping you, giving you all the fucking orgasms you want.” I let out a small giggle. “I will help you get your revenge and make them all pay. But this body, it’s mine and only mine. You. Are. Mine.”

I want to push him away. To tell him to fuck off, he’s got the wrong girl.

The old me wouldn’t have listened to half of this before flipping him the bird and walking out.

But I’m not that woman anymore.

“I don’t know if I can,” I reply, my voice small and shaky.

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