Page 42 of His Dark Pact

Where was her dignity?

I don’t want to leave.

She gripped the edge of the tablecloth, accepting that, even though she despised it, the answer was honest.

She wanted him to take her wherever the hell he usually fucked women and screw her into the furniture. But one thing was for sure—she wasn’t going to fucking beg him for it.

“Eat.” His voice was insistent.

“I told you, I’m not hungry.”

Not for food anyway, not anymore. Whatever had remained of her appetite had faded with his touch, and now the only thing she yearned for was to recapture that exquisite sense of capitulation as she yielded.

There was a power in it, a strength in turning inward and accepting her desire with a complete lack of judgment. She’d sensed the potency as she’d swayed to the wordless rhythm of his body and known it as she relaxed at his touch.

It was where she found her heaven.

That was what Kyle could offer her. Aside from the money and the accommodation, he seemed to have silent dominion over her attention. She could use that power to dismiss the layers of shame she’d buried deep in her soul and justbe.

She wanted to justbe Amy.

“Youwilleat, Amy.”

The edge in his tone convinced her that he meant every word and that, in some gloriously agonizing way, he would make her eat something. Briefly, she considered digging her heels in and discovering what that way was. No doubt she would feel it. His every action and inaction seemed to command her feelings.

“I’m sorry.” She inched her plate away. “I also dislike waste, but all of this has robbed me of the urge to eat.”

“So, you’re choosing to be stubborn?” Kyle shook his head.

“No,” she countered. “I’m being honest.”

“Does everything have to be a fight with you, Amy?”

“What? No.” For some ludicrous reason, her already taut nipples beaded at his criticism. “I’m not fighting. I’m just overwhelmed.Thisis overwhelming.” She signaled around the room, trying to quell the motion of her breasts as she moved.

“I’m sure it is.” He cut another piece of meat. “But you’re not here to starve. If you insist on behaving like a child, then rest assured I shall find ways to treat you like one.”

She didn’t even want to know what that meant, though the pulse between her legs said otherwise. It indicated its preference to find out and revel in the meaning.

“Eat the duck.” His attention flitted to her plate. “Your body needs the protein, and you have a long day of attending to my needs tomorrow.”

His needs.

Was that the only thing that the fucked-up dynamic was about?

“Like this, sir?” She glanced down at her nakedness.

“Maybe.” His lips twitched. “Would you mind?”

“Would you care if I did?”

“You know the deal.” He shrugged, as though the piece of paper on the table between them in any way justified the way he was exploiting her.

Or the way I’m loving it.

“You mean, if I want the money, then I stay and comply.”

Fuck, why did that sound so damn alluring?

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