“Well, I don’t want you thinking I’m not grateful,” I retorted. I was grateful, dammit. He’d saved Emilio’s life. I knew I should be more gracious, but seeing him with Angelique had pushed me right over the edge. God, I was so fucking conflicted. Of course, Emilio should have been a priority. What the hell is wrong with you, Sasha? You should be thinking of your brother right now!
Yet, I’d flown from the backstage area, leaving a trail of startled assistants in my wake. The wardrobe manager had still been waving my street clothes at me as I hurtled past her. Standing in front of Prince in the ridiculous water nymph outfit and matching ballet pumps suddenly made me feel like an angry elf. And I’d seen red.
“Sure. It was a pleasure,” he said sarcastically. “And even better when I had to hear about you babbling backstage about the size of my bank account and how big my cock is!”
I felt myself go pale. “I never said that!” I replied. “That was the make-up artist – he put words in my mouth!” Damn Francois!
“Right. Because every professional conversation hinges on money and cocks,” he sneered. “Or were you sitting there discussing ways to extract more cash from me?”
“That’s not fair!” I said. “You offered to help!”
“What the fuck was I supposed to do, dammit? Leave him there to die?”
“I would have made a plan,” I answered. The words sounded hollow even to my own ears.
“Like the plan you made before? Because that plan kind of relied on me forking out money too, didn’t it?”
“You were the one who came to me with the deal, remember?” I could feel my voice rising again. “It’s not like I went knocking on your door! You were the one who offered me a million dollars to make you look like you were having the fucking time of your life without Angelique Delavigne.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, but didn’t deny it.
“Yeah, well, once you were in, you really went for gold,” he finally said. “You’ve been milking me since you walked into my world. What else have you got up your sleeve, Sasha? A sick grandmother? A pregnant sister? What other family member are you planning to rescue by touting that sweet pussy of yours?”
I sucked in a breath. “You bastard!” My hand was up again and swinging toward his face.
He caught my wrist before it connected. “Once was enough.” His eyes were cold and hard.
“So, you agree with her, then?” I hissed, getting right up in his face. “Your precious Angelique? You think I’m a whore?”
His jaw clenched. When he didn’t answer, I sucked in a breath. The rich woody of scent of him swirled around me, and that primal instinct was kicking back in. I reached a hand down to his groin and cupped the weight of his cock in my palm. He inhaled sharply.
“That’s all you wanted, wasn’t it? A whore to keep your cock hard like Angelique could?”
“Sasha…” It was a quiet word of warning, but I was too angry now.
“A whore who’d keep her mouth shut while you showed your ex how good your world was without her?”
“You’re wrong,” his voice was husky. I could feel him hardening beneath my touch. Inconceivably, it pulled at something in my core. I pulled my wrist from his grasp and fumbled with the buckle of his belt. “Sasha, stop…”
“Why?” I demanded. I’d yanked his belt loose and was working the front of his pants open. “Why stop? You’ve paid for it, haven’t you? Twenty million dollars’ worth of pussy?”His cock was throbbing-hot when I thrust my hand in past his briefs. He groaned low in his throat. And the sound made my thighs clench. “Everything I’ve done was to save my family. You know nothing about the world I live in! The hardest battle you’ve ever fought was trying to show your daddy you’re a real man. And now you think you own me, you spoiled, selfish bastard?” I snarled. “You don’t fucking own me!”
The next sound he made was more of a snarl than a groan. With a rough shove, he pushed me back against the bonnet of the car. I felt it hit the back of my thighs and then I was toppling backward as he grasped the frothy fabric of my dress and tore it open roughly. It shredded like fine paper, peeling away from the naked flesh of my torso. His eyes were glittering emerald fire as he ran them over my bare breasts and belly.
“Don’t I own you?” he hissed between clenched teeth. He ran his fingertips over the tiny triangle of white satin that covered my sex and then yanked it away from me. “Don’t I own this?” He thrust his fingers into me, and I yelped at the sudden invasion. They slid in too easily and I felt my cheeks burn. He drilled them deep, then pulled them out and trailed his fingers over my lips, slick with my own juices. Without thinking, I licked them.
“What the fuck do you want from me, Sasha?” he asked softly. His hips were wedged between my wide thighs and when he lowered his hand again, I sucked in air. “This?” I felt his fingers explore, spreading me wide. “Or this?” Now the head of his cock was sliding along my gaping slit, his fist around his shaft, guiding it firmly.
“Prince, I—”
He slammed into me with such force it knocked the wind from me. “Oh, God!” I choked out, my nails biting into his forearm where he’d rolled up the sleeve of his dress shirt.
He hooked my knees over the crooks of his elbows and lifted my hips up to meet him as he drove into me like a man possessed. I arched my back, breasts jostling with the force of his thrusts.
“I’d give you anything, Sasha,” he hissed as he pounded into me. “But you want me to prove I think you’re a whore?”
I bit out a strangled cry. I could feel each thrust in the pit of my belly, forcing the air from me. “Prince! Please!”
“Please what?” he ground out. “Please buy me? Please fuck me?”
