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That’s when the realization hits. Holy everliving fuck. He’s taking me back to Exeter House.
He parks the car and gets out, coming around to my door and yanking it open. I step out, my heels clicking on the smooth cement as he shuts the door behind me, grabs me by the wrist and pulls me to a bank of five elevators. We take the first one, and with his key, he hits the button for the top floor. We stand in awkward silence as the elevator climbs several floors, before spilling us out directly into a huge, contemporary-style penthouse. It’s all smooth white planes, steel, and glass.
It’s absolutely stunning.
He doesn’t bother showing me around. Instead, he leads me up the massive staircase—it’s a spiral, all white, with curved glass windows overlooking the ocean.
Without pausing, he pulls me down a long hallway. His strides are long and urgent, and I struggle to keep up with him. At the end of the hallway is a pair of double doors. He throws them open and strides inside, tugging me along with him.
I take in my surroundings. We are in an en suite bedroom, which is decorated in white on white. There’s a huge bed, a fireplace and a couple of upholstered chairs—all in a slightly off-color of white against a snowy carpet. Everything is simple yet elegantly so. So that it’s clear that he paid a fortune to have it decorated, everything designed to give the impression of incomprehensible wealth.
My fists knot at my sides and I fidget while he removes his jacket and tosses it across the back of one of the chairs, then unbuttons his sleeves and rolls them halfway up his powerful forearms. “So…why am I here? I thought you didn’t bring women up here.” I could guess at the reasons, but I want to hear what he says.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he whips around to face me and says, “What the fuck was that tonight?”
I startle at the white-hot anger burning in his pristine blue eyes. Have I crossed the line? I’m oddly excited at the thought of pushing the always-in-control squillionare too far.
“I was just out blowing off some steam with my friends. If you’d bothered to check in with me this week, you’d know that I have something worth celebrating.”
“I know damn well about what you have to celebrate,” he grits out between clenched teeth. “And I intended to take you out for a celebration of my own. But you refused to see me. Have you forgotten so soon?”
I open my mouth to reply hotly but stop when he begins pacing the length of the room, his fists knotting and then relaxing at his sides. He won’t look at me. I can tell he’s getting more frantic, more unhinged, with every stride. “That guy had his hands all over you, for Christ’s sake.”
“Keith is just a friend. Seriously. Evan—”
He snatches a vase off the mantle, and he smashes it violently against the wall. It explodes into a million little pieces, scattering across the plush carpet like confetti, and I jump about six feet out of my skin when he does it. Fuck. “No one touches you, Madeline. No one.” He turns to me, breathing hard, and I swallow, thankful for the respectable distance between us. “Only me.”
I’m frozen, my eyes glued to the tiny bits of glass strewn along the carpet, glistening under the recessed lighting. Fear knots tightly in my chest. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
I take a deep breath and release it, thankful for his silence. “Evan—“
But he rides over me, holding up his hand to stay my words. “I’m giving you one chance—one out. You leave now and walk out that door. The contract will be dismissed. You’ll stay in the house until you can find another place to live and with my support, as agreed upon in the contract. But you will never see me again.” He takes a deep breath and appears calmer, his fists relaxing. “Or you can choose to stay. But if you do, you agree to obey me in all things. You will be mine, no questions asked. Mine to do with as I please. And you will not question or refuse me again.”
I blink, stunned by his offer, my mind swirling with the possibilities. He’s offering me my absolute freedom—including freedom from financial difficulties. I can go out when I please, spend time with whom I please. But…I’ll never see him again. That thought brings an ache right down to my toes, and it shocks me to realize how much I need him. How much I crave him. I squeeze my eyes shut. Mine to do with as I please. I have no idea what that means, but I have to admit that the thought of it excites me. His domination excites me, and it has from the very beginning. I sigh, realizing that I’m already in far too deep.
I search his face but say nothing, trying to puzzle out his unreadable expression. “Well?” he barks. “What’s it going to be?”
I swallow, trying to force away the unmistakable feeling that I’m stepping over a precipice. “I’ll stay, then.”
His eyes narrow, and a faint, knowing smile teases the edge of his lips. It’s suddenly clear. This was all a bluff or maybe a test. Perhaps he never would have let me go. “Then you agree to obey, unequivocally. And not defy me.”
I nod.
“Speak it, Madeline. Say the words.”
Heat rises up my neck, and my fists knot tightly. My brain is screaming in protest, but my mouth forms the words. “I will obey.”
“And not defy me,” he repeats.
“And I won’t defy you.”
That smile increases, like a pleased pet owner rewarding a dog for performing a trick. “Your body is my property. To use as I please.”
A long, charged silence while he stares at me expectantly. “My body is yours to use…as you please.” Much as I hate to admit it, his claim over me is fucking hot. I’m already wet and aching.
Now he’s smiling such that his even, white teeth are showing. He reaches for his belt and unbuckles it. “Good girl.”
I lick my lips and hesitate.
