Page 54 of Oblivion

I see his lips curl into a smile as my eyelids flutter closed. In the darkness, I hear him move and feel the distance he puts between us as he leaves, then comes back. The next thing I hear is a metallic click.

My eyes snap open to find him in front of me, a smug, self-satisfied grin spread boldly over his face. His hands are in my hair, and for a second, I worry that he’s cut it, but instead he’s carefully lifting my hair from my neck. That’s when I feel it. The soft thud of something landing in the hollow of my throat.

Instinctively, I lift my hand, and my fingers hit cold metal. “What?” I question, curling my fingers around the pendant. I can’t tell what it is from touch alone, and the chain it’s attached to is too short for me to be able to see it when I look down.

Stepping away from him, I go into the bedroom and stand in front of the full-length mirror, leaning forward so I can see the necklace Evan just put around my neck. The chain is fine, but a tight link that feels strong and sturdy. Holding it together at the base of my throat is a small padlock. Just like the anklet Evan put on me a week ago, the chain doesn’t seem to have a start or an end, with only the padlock joining it in the middle.

The lock itself is small but thick and surprisingly heavy. Sucking in a sharp breath, I lean in a little closer to the mirror, lifting the padlock off my neck until I can read the engraving on the metal. Just like the tiny padlock charm on my ankle and thetattoo on my finger, the padlock is branded with the letters E and M tangled together.

“Take it off,” I whisper, turning to look into the living space where Evan is waiting.

“No,” he says, shaking his head.

“I want to take it off.”

“It doesn’t come off.”

“It’s a lock. Locks have keys.”

“This one doesn’t. It doesn’t need a key. It’s permanent. The moment I clicked it locked it became permanent.”

“Take it off, Evan,” I say, my voice rising.

“You’re mine, Sammy.”

“You chained me, like a pet,” I hiss, my voice breaking.

“No. I claimed you, like a man claiming his woman. I had a second one made for me too. When you’re ready, I’ll happily wear your lock around my neck for the rest of my life. We’ll claim each other, Sammy.”

“I don’t want to be claimed,” I choke.

“Don’t lie to yourself or to me. You were desperate to be claimed, panting to be owned and belong. And now you do.”

“Where are my pearls?” I question, fear spiking inside of me that he’s taken the string of pearls that have been in my family for generations.

“They’re in your jewelry box.”

A relieved huff of breath bursts from my lungs. “I can go to the admin offices on my own.”

“We’ll go together.”

“Are you planning on attaching a leash to this and leading me around campus, so everyone knows that you think of me like property?” I growl, finally feeling all the anger that has been absent until now.

“That’s an interesting idea, but I’d need you to be naked, and I’ll never let anyone else see you like that. But I’m more thanhappy to treat you like my unwilling slave in the privacy of our room if you think you want that. Maybe when we get back later, I’ll strip you naked and have you kneel at my feet while I hold your head down on my cock with your leash wrapped around my fist.”

“Fuck you, Evan,” I growl, furious and hurt and horny all at the same time, although I’ll never admit it.

His amused laughter only aggravates and elevates my arousal even higher. “Oh, I’ll definitely fuck you, little Wild One.”

Fighting tears, I do my best to blink them away, turning from the mirror and stomping back into the living room. Not taking anywhere near as much care with my beautiful new bag as I should, I shove the laptop and supplies inside, then head for the door.

Curling his fingers around my wrist, Evan stops me, dragging me into his body. “I know you think you hate me right now. But you don’t. I bet your body is on fire, feeling the weight of that lock at your throat. I bet you’re dripping thinking about everyone seeing the physical proof of my ownership around your neck. You can pretend to fight this, Wild One, but I know how much you love it. How much you crave it.”

“Can we go?” I say, fighting to stop my voice cracking with emotion, because he’s not right. He’s wrong. So incredibly, wrong…Right?

“Do you have something to say to me? I thought you loved your gifts?” he asks, his voice taking on a taunting tone.

“Are you serious?” I shriek.

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