A thin line of blood beads on my lower lip from her bite. I lick it off, never breaking eye contact. Her mouth is red and swollen, her breath ragged.
"I'm not for sale," she says, but her voice shakes. "And I'd rather die than sleep with you."
I lean in, placing my mouth at her ear. "Maybe, but you will sleep with me. It's only a matter of time, princess."
She shoves me away, finally breaking free.
This time, I let her go.
"Does Liam know that you're trying to force me to fuck you?"
"Liam is too busy to see what's right in front of him," I smirk at her. "It's not like he'd stop me if he knew. We both know he'd hand you over on a platter if I asked, Brielle." It's the truth. He's never once tried to stop me, no matter what I do to her. He bitches and complains and threatens, but he never follows through. We both know that's because she doesn't want him to follow through. As much as she claims to hate me, she can't let me go either.
She wipes her mouth, staring at me with raw, unfiltered rage. "My God. You're a monster."
"Maybe, but we both know you've always fucking loved monsters, now, haven't you?"
She rears back like I slapped her, her eyes wild. And then she bolts without another word, her heels clicking hard on the floor. The door slams, but I hear her pause outside, just for a second, like she can't decide if she wants to come back and murder me or cry.
I wipe my lip, staring at the blood on my hand, and smile wider. She may think she'll be able to refuse me, but in reality, I'm the only man she'll ever hate enough to let own her.
She'll be back.
She always comes back.
Three days is all it takes for her to crack. I expected it'd take a little longer, but there's a sick kind of joy in watching her cave faster than I expected.
She storms into my office at 10:37 in the morning on Friday, not even bothering to announce herself.
I'm in the middle of a call with the managing partner of a European agency I want. I see her out of the corner of my eye, her black hair wilder than last time, her eyes rimmed with a lack of sleep and mascara.
I don't acknowledge her.
She doesn't slow down, her heels slamming against the tile with enough force to shatter it. She stops on the rug at my desk and crosses her arms, waiting.
I keep talking, listening to her breathing get more ragged with every second.
"I don't care if it's his company," I tell the anxious voice on the phone. "I don't care if it's all he has. I care about the clients he's fucking over. Either you get him to agree to the merger, or I'll find someone who will."
The man on the other end starts to sputter, but I'm done listening.
I click the line dead.
Then I look at Brielle. She looks wild, cornered.
"I trust you had a productive morning, princess," I say, dragging a finger down the screen of my phone to erase everything on my schedule for the rest of the day. I won't be getting a fucking thing done now. "Has hell gotten too cold for you? Or did you come to add assault to your list of accomplishments?"
Her glare is molten. "I came to accept your offer," she snaps.
She's finally mine. And this time, there's no escape, and not a fucking thing stopping me from taking what I want. My heart doesn't skip. It detonates. But I don't move, don't let her see the effect she has on me.
"Of course you did." I give her a smile that's all savage amusement. "Didn't take you for a beggar, but here we are."
"Let's not pretend I'm the only one desperate here, Asher," she snaps, bristling.
"I'm desperate, huh?" I arch a brow. "Please enlighten me on how you reached that conclusion."
She stares at me, unflinching. "You could have had me years ago. But you pushed me away and ruined my life instead, like a coward. Now you can't have me, and that scares the shit out of you because no one tells you no. So you're trying to buy me with threats and a job offer, just so you feel like you're still in control here."
