Bound to Cruelty - Page 31

She stiffens and shivers but keeps her attention solely on Emmanuelle. “I understand you might think you want me in your bed, but I assure you, you don’t. I won’t be able to give you the submission you want, and you won’t be able to make me feel safe enough to even attempt it. Sex is a vulnerability for a woman in power. It’s a lesson I’ve learned over and over again. Look at your own head councilwoman if you need an example.”

Emmanuelle reaches out and clasps Selena’s hand. I’m about five seconds from ripping them apart, only holding myself in check so I don’t draw attention to us in the middle of the restaurant. He glides his thumb over her knuckles gently. “Who said I need a submissive woman in my bed? The one you saw me with before is no more submissive than your own little friend here.”

I don’t call him out on his dig. Instead, I tread my fingers up the back of her neck and into her hair again. The heat of her seeps through my suit coat, and her eyes go heavy-lidded.

“Is that it?” Emmanuelle whispers, clutching her hand in both of his now. “You have to be forced into submission to enjoy it. I can do that for you if you need it. Give me a chance to show you. We could be good together, in and out of bed.”

She narrows her eyes and shakes me off, so I let my hand fall to the back of her chair, keeping my eyes on the councilman. “I don’t need anything, and no one forces me into anything. These are my terms. Are we still in agreement?”

Emmanuelle flicks his eyes to me, and I hold his gaze, challenging him. How badly does he want this? Enough to agree to a complete sham?

Instead, he rises, pulls the ring box from his pocket, and sets it on the table between them. “I have much to consider and will be in touch. For now, though, I expect you to wear this.”

Her jaw tightens, and her eyes spark, something I can see even though I’m monitoring her in profile. “You can expect it all you like. We’ll see how I feel once things are settled.”

With those words, he buttons his coat, slides me a cold look, and walks out of the restaurant. I follow his back until I can’t see him in the crowd beyond the opening to the casino floor.

She spins to glare at me, grabs the box, and jams the ring onto her finger. “What the fuck was that? Are you trying to ruin this? He probably wouldn’t have even added sex to the deal if you weren’t sitting there like a jealous lover about to be cast out of my bed.”

The waiter brings a breadbasket, and I snag a roll to chew on, anything to calm me down and keep me from throwing her across the table and fucking her in front of a room full of strangers. After I swallow, I shove my hair away from my face and narrow her a look. “One, watch your fucking mouth. You don’t speak to me like that unless you really want me to shove my cock in there and teach you a lesson.”

She gasps, her hand coming up to clutch at her chest. “Wh-what?”

“Second, I wasn’t ruining anything. The bastard wants you even more now that he knows there’s another man interested. Call it fucked up male bullshit, but he does. He’ll agree to your terms because he thinks he’s good enough, or handsome enough, to seduce you despite what you’ve told him. He’s all ego in a pretty suit.”

“And you are, what? Anger and venom wrapped up tight in Armani?”

I wipe my fingers on my napkin and stand. She watches me closely as I toss money on the table, grab her by the arm, and haul her out the backdoor of the restaurant, down a short flight of stairs, and into the tunnels which lead off into the basement.

She stumbles quietly behind me until I drag her into an office, my office, and close the door behind us. It’s dark, and she’s breathing hard. Hard enough that I can hear every inhale, every exhale and how erratically her heart is beating beneath that sinful little dress of hers.

I pick her up and drop her on the desk. She clutches at my arms, thrown off balance because she didn’t see me coming at her. It’s the only reason I can rip the ring off her finger and toss it away into the darkened room.

That’s his ring. His mark. And something inside me won’t allow it to be on her skin. Not when I haven’t even marked her for myself yet.

“What the fuck?” she grumbles but staying exactly where I’ve sat her. “Why are you so fucking crazy?”

Tags: J.L. Beck Romance
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