Page 61 of Captive Prize

Not because of her perfect tits. Though they were perfect—firm, perky and just big enough to fill my palms or smother my cock as I slid it between them. What caught my attention was the dark red-purple bruise on her shoulder.

“Who?” I asked, staring at the molten colors, trying to control the fire burning through my veins.

Whoever had dared to touch her was going to face my wrath.

My heart stopped as I thought about the way we had fought in her office.

Fuck. It was me. I was the one who’d bruised her.

I hadn’t been gentle.

I didn’t know I had to be.

If I had known that she had a bleeding disorder, I would have?—

My thoughts were interrupted when she rolled her eyes at me. “Don’t flatter yourself. It wasn’t you.”

“Then who was it?” I asked again, getting really tired of repeating myself.

“It was from getting myself out of that fucking chair,” she said as she got to her unsteady feet.

My hands ached to reach out and steady her, but I didn’t touch her.

What if I hurt her again?

“Does it?—”

“No.” She answered my question without me having to finish it. “I was a little worried about internal bleeding because I hit that floor hard, but with the medication the doctor gave me, I’ll be fine. It’s going to last in my system for several hours. For a while, anyway, I’ll bruise just like a normal person.”

“Good to know,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest again and waiting for her to unbutton her pants and drop them.

God, she looked good.

Practically edible, even with bruises adding marks of toughness to her. Proof that she was a warrior who was every bit as formidable as I was. Even if her explanation didn’t completely ease the tension in my shoulders.

She stepped out of the pants and took a shaky step toward the shower.

“All of it, Zoya.”

Her shoulders slumped as she raised an eyebrow at me.

“All of it,” I repeated, my voice husky with restraint. “I want to see what belongs to me.”

She pushed back her shoulders, sticking out her chest as she reached behind her.

Any other woman would either be trying to seduce then fuck me for my money and my power or hide from me because they were afraid of me.

Zoya did neither of those.

She stared me down as she unhooked her bra, daring me to look, daring me to take her all in.

I did. God, I did. Her tits were flawless—flushed and tipped with pale pink nipples already taut and begging for my lips. My cock twitched at the sight of her panties damp against her thighs. She was pretending not to want me, but her body didn’t lie. It never did.

Then she slid her hands to the waist of her simple black cotton panties and pushed them over her hips. They dropped to the floor on top of her pants.

“Happy?” She cocked her brow at me.

“Thrilled,” I said, taking a step closer to her.

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