Page 42 of Stolen Queen

Fuck.

The implication of Ava’s words hangs heavily in the air between us. I want her. God, do I want her. But I still can't shake the feeling that I'd be taking advantage of her vulnerability. No, she’s not drunk. But she’s young. She’s my hostage. Except no… she just agreed to stay with me. To let me protect her.

Fuck. When did I grow such a conscience? Not that I go around taking advantage of women, because I don’t. But I never concerned myself with their situation. If they wanted me and I wanted them, that was all that was required. So why am I hesitating now? Especially since she’s haunted me from the moment I met her six months ago when she was introduced to Elio. Her innocence, her fire, her beauty have combined into a potent mix that's consuming me.

I've tried to fight it. God knows I've tried. I've thrown myself into work, but nothing helps. No matter where I am or what I'm doing, Ava's always there in the back of my mind. Her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes flash with defiance when she's challenged.

She's seeped into my soul, becoming a part of me I can't shake loose. It's more than just physical attraction. There's something about Ava that calls to me on a deeper level. Her strength, her resilience in the face of her father's cruelty. The way she refuses to be broken, even when the world seems determined to crush her spirit.

I want to protect her, to give her the freedom she's never had. But I also want to possess her, to make her mine in every way possible. These conflicting desires war within me, leaving me feeling raw and exposed. It's not a good feeling.

Now, with her standing so close, looking up at me with those innocent eyes, I'm at a crossroads. Everything in me screams to take what she's offering, to finally give in to the hunger that's been consuming me for months.

But she doesn’t know me. Not really. I’m sure of this as she looks up at me like I’m some fairy tale prince come to rescue her. If only she knew the darkness that lurks within me, the things I've done. I'm no hero. It's almost painful to realize what a precious gift she's handing over, completely unaware of how undeserving I am to receive it.

I reach out to cup her cheek. Her skin is so soft, so pure. She's nervous, but eager. Curious about the passion she's only glimpsed in her dreams.

“You don’t have to do this. That's not why you're here,” I say, my voice rough, filled with need. But even as I say the words, I'm leaning in closer. Her scent envelops me, luring me closer.

“I know.” She tilts her chin up, lips parting slightly in invitation.

God help me. I want to devour her innocence, claim every part of her as mine. My lips hover just inches from hers. Her breath mingles with mine, the anticipation crackling between us like electricity. One small movement and I’ll taste her sweetness, lose myself in her warmth.

But I know myself too well. I'm not a gentle man. Not in my work life and not in bed. The things I enjoy, the intensity I crave, they're not for someone as innocent as Ava.

"You should find someone better."

Confusion flickers across her face. "But you've been so kind to me.”

"Don't mistake necessity for kindness. I've been careful with you because I had to be. But that's not who I am at my core." I have no idea what I'm saying.

I step back, putting some distance between us. It's for her own good, even if every fiber of my being screams to close that gap again.

"The things I want to do to you…" I trail off, shaking my head. "They'd scare you. Hurt you, even. And I can't bear the thought of that."

Ava's eyes widen with a mix of fear and curiosity. "What do you mean?"

I run a hand through my hair, frustrated. How can I explain the darkness inside me without sending her running? The rough way I like to fuck, the pain I enjoy inflicting and receiving. It's so far removed from her sheltered world.

"I'm not a gentle lover, Ava. The things that get me off, they're not for someone like you. Someone so…" I gesture vaguely at her, encompassing her whole being. "Pure."

“You like your ladies in skimpy clothes instead.” Pain and disappointment radiate off her.

Fucking hell. She’s finding offense in being called pure. “This is part of my protecting you.”

“Just be honest. You don’t like me.”

“Dammit, Ava! That’s not it.” The tether on my control frays as I take her hand and press it over my dick.

Her eyes widen as her fingers close around me.

I let out a groan and tug her hand away. “See? It’s not a matter of not wanting you. You can feel that I do.”

“Then what is it?” Her eyes are filled with fire, anger and irritation directed at me.

“You’re not ready?—”

“What is the point of my leaving my father’s control, only to have another man decide what I want or don’t want? What I feel or don’t feel? To make decisions on my behalf?”

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