She. Can’t. Say. No. To. Me.
“From now on, you don’t leave this apartment unless I say so. You don’t speak to your patients unless I’ve vetted the file. You don’t even look at the door without wondering if I’ll let you pass.”
I circle her like a shark.
“Are you okay with being my little prey, Charlotte?” I murmur. “Because I have thoughts about chasing you. I want to see you run, knowing that when I catch you—and Iwillalways catch you—I will take you in ways that make you want to scream ‘no.’ I want to push you until you’re begging for mercy. And I’m not going to stop. The only thing that stops the monster is thatword.Yellow. Do you understand? Without it, I am the god of your body. I decide when you come, when you sleep, and how much you hurt.”
James Morelli’s ghost is standing in my boots, wearing my skin, breathing my air. I’m the monster in the cellar.
I wait for her to see the rot behind my eyes and scream. But Charlotte only nods. She’s breathing like she’s just run a mile, her chest heaving under the silk, and when I look into her eyes, I don’t see a victim.
I see a woman who’s starving.
She isn’t just accepting the leash; she’s handing it to me and asking me to pull. It makes my head spin. It makes me want to wreck her and worship her all at once.
“Go back to the living room,” I order my little prey around. “Now.”
She obeys. I follow her, watching the way the silk clings to her perfect fucking ass. The living room holds fifty bouquets of my desperation.
“Sniff them,” I say. “I want you to find the one you love the most. Tell me which one it is, and I’ll make sure your world smells like it for the rest of your life.”
I don’t just want to own her. I want to pamper her until she forgets there’s a world outside these walls. I want to buy her every diamond in the city, dress her in the finest lace, and feed her the rarest fruits, all while keeping her in a cage of my own making.
She moves from bouquet to bouquet, her fingers grazing the petals.
“This one,” she whispers, her nose over a bunch of blood-red peonies.
I grab a handful of the peonies and press them against her face. “You’ll have everything you ever wanted, as long as you belong to me.”
I slide my hand under the silk, palming her ass cheeks. I’m hard enough to ache, the pressure behind my fly torture. She presses a small peck to my lips, and even in the state I’m in right now, it makes the dead organ in my chest beat faster.
“Tell me again,” I growl. “Tell me you’re my prey. Tell me you want me to hunt you.”
She leans her head back against my shoulder, her eyes closing. “I’m your little prey, Valerio. Hunt me. Make me yours.”
“Run.”
Chapter Nineteen
Valerio
My blood is humming with anticipation. For me, this is religion. This is the only thing that's real. She’s a goddess, and I’m the devil that will own her.
“You know the rules,” I say, my voice a low growl that doesn’t sound like it belongs to me. It belongs to the thing inside me, the beast that only ever thinks of her.
“Yellow,” she whispers.
“Good girl,” I purr. “Now run.”
The flight instinct kicks in. She bolts. The sound of her bare feet slapping against the cold hardwood is the sweetest music I’ve ever heard. I let her get a head start. She needs to believe she can get away, right up until the moment my hands close around her.
I can hear her ragged breathing, the frantic thumping of her heart. This is my territory, my hunting ground, and she ismylittle prey.
She ducks behind the large velvet armchair, a pathetic attempt. I circle it slowly, letting the dread build.
I can hear her whimpering. God, that sound. It goes straight to my cock.
I grab her ankle. She screams as I drag her out from behind the chair. She kicks and thrashes, her nails scrabbling for purchase on the floor. Her fight is glorious. I haul her up with my arm around her waist. She’s so fucking small, so fragile. The power is dizzying.
