Page 32 of Prized Possession

As soon as we get home, it’s game on!

The journey to Marcus’ penthouse seemed to be over in a flash. We sat in deafening silence, neither wanting to be the first to speak. Instead, I shuffled around on his ridiculously comfy leather seats and stared out at the passing scenery.

All manner of thoughts were rushing through my head. While I’m fucking annoyed as hell that yet another decision has been taken away from me, and I’m being treated like an object being passed around, I can’t say I’m entirely upset by the situation.

After all, this is exactly what Marcus promised he’d do. I may not like his methods, but I’m out of my parent’s house for a while, and my wedding has been delayed, which was all I wanted.

It just fucking irritates me that Marcus, of all people, was able to get me out of the mess I was in. I’m also not entirely sure what to expect from this little arrangement.

According to Jake, Marcus owns me for the next sixty days. I have to do whatever he tells me, no questions asked—that alone makes me grindmy teeth in frustration. I may have been raised to follow orders, but it doesn’t mean I fucking like it.

Also, I hate how much my stomach sank when Jake clarified that nothing sexual would happen between us. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t exactly thrilled that my brother was whoring me out after losing a bet, but I can’t deny my mind went to a very dirty place—one I quite like the thought of.

Ever since that night at Caged, to say Marcus and his dirty words have been on my mind would be a fucking understatement. His words have been echoing through my head so often that I could probably recite them. I don’t even want to think about how many pairs of knickers I’ve ruined thinking about him, dreaming about him.

It wasn’t just the sexual chemistry that pulled me in. Yes, him calling me a slut did stupid things to me, but the promises he made meant more. He said he could give me back the control I’ve been longing for—something I stopped hoping for a long time ago.

Initially, I was convinced it sounded stupid, like something a guy would say to get a girl into bed.‘Be my slut, do as I say, and you’ll feel like the one with all the power’.

Then I remember how I felt in the alleyway. When Marcus looked like he was struggling to control himself, that made me feel powerful. He’s the most put-together, controlled man I know, yet he was struggling to do the right thing because of me.

In truth, I want nothing more than to claim back the control that was taken from me a while ago, but I also want him. No matter how much I tell myself I don’t, there’s something about Marcus Morelli that draws me in. He’s forbidden and dangerous, that one guy you know you’re not supposed to like, so of course you do.

Even when he’s pushing me away, being the perfect arsehole I’m supposed to hate, I still like him.

He doesn’t treat me like I’m fragile. He doesn’t baby me the way my family always has. He’s not afraid of telling me things I don’t want to hear, because he knows it won’t break me—I’ve survived much worse.

So why did it hurt so much when he said nothing sexual would happen between us?

As soon as he said I’d have to beg him, I saw red. The slutty side of me was on her knees, begging already, but the girl fighting to claw back some semblance of control held firm.

I told him I’d never beg him, and the responding look was pure sin. I saw the challenge, and I didn’t know what the hell to think.

The confusing swirl of words and emotions have been on repeat in mybrain, and I’ve reached the point where I have no idea what to expect while I’m with him.

Honestly, it’s driving me crazy, which is why I’ve decided to confront him as soon as we arrive at his penthouse. I just hope I can hold my nerve.

Although Marcus and Jake have been friends nearly my whole life, it occurs to me, when we pull up to the tall high-rise building, that I’ve never been to Marcus’ penthouse, despite it being across the road from Jake’s.

I’ve been to Morelli Manor, the large stately home his father lives in, where Marcus grew up, but I’ve never been here.

We pull into the underground parking garage, and after being let in by security, Marcus pulls into a spot at the very end of the row, nearest the lift. As soon as I climb out, I’m overwhelmed by the amount of ridiculously expensive cars. I don’t have to be a petrolhead to know that there’s a lot of super cars here.

He catches me staring, and looks like he’s about to say something, but instead, he turns and starts walking towards the lift.

I stand near the boot of his car, and when he realises I’m not following, he looks over his shoulder at me in confusion. “What? Do you not like lifts?”

I roll my eyes and point to the boot of his car. “All my bags are still in the boot, remember?”

He shakes his head with the look of confusion growing to the point you’d think I had a third boob. “Someone will come and collect them. They’ll be in your room before I finish giving you the tour,” he states, sounding more posh than usual.

“I didn’t know you have staff for that sort of thing,” I state bluntly.

Obviously, his family has money, as does mine. In fact, Morelli Manor is even bigger than our house, with way more rooms and land. His father has staff that work at the Manor, but other than the security staff Marcus always has with him, I didn’t know he had his own staff at the penthouse.

Marcus just shrugs his shoulders like it’s not a big deal. “I don’t really. I have security staff that are responsible for keeping me and this place safe, and they usually help out with things like this. They won’t go through your bags, but they will scan them to make sure it’s safe before taking them to your room.

“I also have a woman who helps take care of the place. She does all the cleaning and sorting, but that’s it.”

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