“Like a person. Someone you can’t live without.”
I straighten my spine. He’s the only man I’ve ever craved. I choose my words carefully.
“I don’t think so.”
I trace his chest. He grins and grinds against me.
“So you’ve never craved anyone?”
“Maybe.”
“It’s okay to admit you crave me, my princess.”
He fucks me harder, pinning my wrists above my head.
“You can’t hide from me. It’s written all over your face.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure.”
“I don’t crave you. You’re insane.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t need to convince me.”
“I’ll be right back.”
I slip out from under Irvin, rush into the bathroom, lock the door, and step into the shower—hoping the water can wash the panic out of my chest.
Irvin
Istare at my princess across the room as she sticks out her tongue and highlights lines in her notebook. We’re supposed to be studying together, but all I can think about is what she’s hiding. She’s been acting differently toward me since yesterday. I want to know who put fear into her. I’m going to find out soon enough.
She scrunches her nose as she chews on the end of the highlighter. She looks so pretty with her curly hair pulled into a ponytail, and the way her nose crinkles when she’s thinking.
I set my laptop on the coffee table, then scoot closer to her. Her eyes dart to mine, but she swallows thickly and tries to move away.
I want Lilac dependent on me—fully, emotionally relying on me. I want inside her beautiful mind. I want her addicted to the high I give her. She’s attached to me; I know she is. The way she looked when I asked her to suck my dick and then left—the frown, the sadness, the longing in her gray eyes. The way she answered my questions about someone kidnapping her fromme. The panic in her gaze. I asked those questions to see how she would respond, to gauge how attached she is to me. I want her obsessed with me, as much as I am with her.
I take the notebook from her hand and set it on the table. She frowns. Her hooded eyes lock on mine.
“What are you doing?”
I lay her on her back. “I want you to admit that you have feelings for me.”
She laughs lightly, then covers her mouth. “Are you high? Do you really think I have an emotional connection with you?”
She presses her hand firmly against my chest, but I don’t budge.
“Yes. I do.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Just because I admitted that I wanted you, doesn’t mean I have an emotional connection.” She grins.
I cock an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”
“You and your arrogance. You think my life revolves around yours. You misconstrue everything into an emotional connection.”
I remove her sweatshirt, her leggings, then her panties. I focus on her pussy—beautiful, pink. I slide my finger inside her—warm, mine. She needs to tell me she has feelings for me.
