Page 70 of The Owner's Temptation

"Desire doesn’t live in what you give your contract—it lives in what they didn’t know they wanted until you offered it," I whisper quietly against her ear. "You made him desire you. How?"

My hand moves deliberately down the curve of her ass, slipping beneath the hem of her dress, tracing the line of her stocking where it ends on her thigh.

Her breathing is heavy, nervous yet unmistakably excited. She licks her lips before answering softly, "He wanted to be you."

A swell of pride mixes with my possessiveness. "Very good," I murmur approvingly before stepping back.

She moves as if to straighten up. "Don't move," I command sharply.

I retrieve my espresso, moving behind her to lean casually against the coffee bar, observing her. "Not only did you control the room with just your presence, but you anticipated what would change his mind. He thought, if he stayed, he might become me—withyousitting onhislap."

Her back straightens slightly at the praise, but I’m not finished.

“But even though you did well, you still failed."

She jolts, nearly standing upright. "Ah uh. Stay put.”

Frustration and embarrassment flash across her face, but she returns to position—legs apart, palms flat, hips pushed out. My hand clenches inside my pocket, restraining myself from touching her again.

"I said not to say a word to him the entire time. You told him your name."

She opens her mouth to protest, but I silence her swiftly. "Not a word means exactly that."

The silence hangs heavily between us. Her fingers flex impatiently against the desk, waiting for correction she undeniably craves.

She can’t sit still. Anticipating what may come next. Scared of it. Wanting it.

I glance at my watch. “Three minutes are up. You’re dismissed for the day."

She bolts upright, nearly stomping out before I call her back. "And Sienna?"

She pauses, fists clenched, turning slowly with fire in her eyes.

Her thighs press together subtly, and satisfaction curls through me. Let her ache. Let her wonder what would’ve happened if she disobeyed—or if I’d followed through.

"Don't be late again."

She storms out without another word.

* * *

Hours later, I stand alone in my office, adjusting the cuffs of my shirt and looking at the busy city as the sun sets and New York comes to life for the nighttime. A veil of darkness draping over the city that begs for its citizens to come explore it.

Sienna’s perfume still lingers, intoxicating and tempting.

I can’t get the feel of her out of my mind, and I need to fucking do something about it.

I’ve killed men for breaking my laws and here I am, a fucking hypocrite putting my hands on my own merchandise and loving it. Fucking wanting more of it.

But I’m starting to not care.

I’m starting to want to rewrite those fucking laws so I can have what I want.

She pushes me, challenges me in ways no other Ledger girl has dared. And fuck if I don't want to rise to every single challenge she throws my way—to teach her, correct her, and bend her to my will.

She’s going to test every boundary I have. And when she finally breaks one… a slow smirk crosses my lips as I unlock my phone and open the Ledger app.

...I’ll make her beg for the consequences.

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