Page 51 of Dirty Damage

Sutton snaps her attention back to me. Her face is pale, eyes narrowed. “You trying to say you own me, too?”

Only if you let me say it while you’re bound and blindfolded beneath me.

My cock strains against my pants, and I leash down the beast in my chest. “I’m saying we should both remember why we’re here.”

“Happily,” she snaps. “For starters, I may have signed your damn contract, but you do not own me.”

Our eyes hold again—the same heat from the kitchen flaring between us.

“That depends on how you look at it.”

“No matter how you look at it, you don’t own me.” She squares her shoulders, fire flashing in her blue eyes. “I have my reasons for accepting your offer. And I’m sure you have yours for offering in the first place. But I’m not willing to be your possession or your plaything. I expect respect. And freedom.”

“You’ll be respected. But freedom comes with conditions.”

“Then it isn’t freedom.”

“For as long as our contract holds, you will be loyal to me.”

“Is this about the NDA? Because I signed that.”

“That’s part of it.”

She studies my face for a few seconds. “You mean, like, sexually?”

The word sets off a blushing firework display. Color paints her cheeks and her neck, and I want to know how far it goes. I want to trace the heat across her skin, feel the way she responds to me.

Fuck me, I’ve never been harder in my life.

I drop my napkin in my lap as if that is going to do anything to help the throbbing.

“Yes. Sexually.”

“Agreed.” She leans closer, her scent hitting me like a drug. “But I expect the same in return.”

“You want me to be faithful to you?”

She shrugs. “I don’t like double standards, Oleg. If you think you can fuck me while also screwing other women, we can tear up that contract right now.”

I almost laugh. Like the thought of having her—only her—for months would be some kind of hardship.

“No need for that. I agree, princess.”

Her eyes go wide. I can really appreciate that aquatic blue. So calm, so serene.

And yet, I can sense the storm lurking beneath the surface.

I almost wish it would break, just so that I have an excuse to tame it.

“I prefer ‘Sutton.’”

“‘Princess’ suits you better.”

She rises to her feet, taking her plate with her.

When I do the same, she breaks off from whatever snarky comment she was about to make at my expense. “What are you doing?”

I want to seal our contract. Take her here, now.

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