Page 13 of Violent Cravings

Chapter 7

Laura

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. He’s kidding, right?

“Submit to you?” I ask incredulously. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

I have a pretty clear idea of what he’s talking about, but I’m not ready to admit it. The shock is still too new, too deep, for me to even consider having a normal conversation with him yet.

He reaches for his glass and nonchalantly takes another drink from it, seeming to ignore my outburst in response to his ridiculous offer. I’m boiling with indignation and frustration, and I can only imagine the expression on my face, but here he is, taking his sweet time to give me an explanation.

“It means that I want you,” he shrugs simply. “I want you to give yourself to me. For one night, just one night.”

“You want to fuck me,” I breathe, my voice trembling with hurt, and I’m sure tears are starting to form considering how my eyes feel like they’re burning.

He cocks his head to the side.

“That would be part of it,” he nods calmly. “But not all of it. A simple fuck is not what I want – need – from you.”

A tight knot forms in my chest, making it harder to breathe. I’m so appalled at his offer, so hurt and humiliated. Is that how little he thinks of me? That I’m so dead poor and desperate that I’d be willing to sell myself to him?

“I’m not a prostitute,” I enlighten him.

His eyes are set on mine, an earnest expression gracing his handsome face. He’s wearing a black suit and tie, appearing even more dressed up than he did on the evening of the event. Did he have another appointment before me, or is it just proper etiquette to dress up when negotiating with a whore?

“I know that,” he says. “And I’m sorry if I insulted you.”

He gives me a moment to react to his apology, but I don’t acknowledge it.

“But I still think you’re intrigued by my proposal,” he adds. “In many ways.”

I shake my head. “I don’t understand why you’d think that.”

His smile suggests that he’s not taking my refusal seriously.

“Why don’t you just ask me out like a normal person? Why this… proposal?”

He shrugs.

“Because that’s how it has to be,” he says matter-of-factly. “Miss Brown, I’ll be honest with you. I’m not looking to date you. This is not about roses, fancy dinners, and holding hands. It’s about one night. One night during which you’ll submit yourself to me, entirely and completely, and be mine.”

He pauses and leans forward then, reaching for my hand. I flinch, but don’t move my hand away when he begins intertwining his fingers with mine. His touch is warm and soothing, but electrifying at the same time. I want to pull away from him, but I can’t.

What does this man want from me?

“I’m sure you must have a lot of questions,” he says. “I’m ready to answer every single one of them, but you’ll have to speak to me.”

I glare at him. “What makes you think I’m even considering this?”

He shrugs, completely unfazed by my irritation.

“You’re still here,” he simply says, casting me a knowing look before he pulls his hand away from mine.

I catch myself involuntarily seeking to follow his hand when he moves away.

He notices my reaction, too.

Damn.

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