Yours Tonight (Reign 1)

“I kissed him.” My eyes met his. He knew this, but this word play was getting to me. The brink I was teetering on was a narrow one. Deep in my gut, I had a feeling I could lose Jack, or keep him, for however long he’d have me…it just depend on these next few moments.

“I realize that.” He handed me the glass of liquor. I cupped the smooth tumbler in my hand. “What I’m more interested in is if this hope he makes you feel is something that I can’t work around. I don’t share. Not a single part of you, including your desires. When you’re on my time, that’s what you are: mine.”

His admission cut straight to the bones of me. He was honest, in such an intense way it was like a warning

. He took the notion of want to a new level, and I wanted to be his. So much so that, yes, once again, it made my chest hurt. Truth was, I didn’t want to share Jack either.

“I understand,” I said, with as much confidence as I could muster.

His dark eyes stayed on mine, silently asking me to continue. Instead, I took a moment and downed my liquor. This was going to take the kind of courage I didn’t quite have yet.

“Nothing like this has ever happened me. Cal may have been at the bar too, but I didn’t see him. I met you, then him. I was confused.”

“Like you said before, there were no commitments. I’m offering one now.”

I nodded. “Why do I feel the need to explain myself? Like I’ve done something wrong or wasn’t loyal.”

A flash of softness hit his expression. “You are a painfully loyal person, Lana.”

“How could you know that?”

“Because of how you move. How you interact with people. You keep your promises, and I saw the look in your eyes when Cal walked in. It was an unexpected and difficult situation to be instantly put in. But you gravitated toward me, yet kept him in your view. As if you didn’t want to upset either of us.”

I shook my head. “I don’t. I keep telling you, I’m not that girl. I barely know how to handle a single man.” And that was being generous. Jack was the majority of my intimate experiences.

“Let me absolve you of any guilt or questions you have.” He took the empty glass out of my hand. “What happened before my office is not your fault. You did nothing wrong. But from here on out, we move forward.”

I nodded. “How?”

“Simple.” Though the gleam in his eyes was anything but. “You agree to be with me and give me what I want, which is you. To fuck, to hold, to pleasure. I won’t be gentle or soft or relaxed. I will expect you to obey and respond to me. I want your trust and I want your body and you will enjoy it. If you desire anything, you come to me. Just like I will come to you. You will likely be nervous.”

He paused, and his grin shifted, because we both knew what “nervous” meant when it came to him. It meant hot.

“Understand one thing: I will push your limits, but I will never hurt you.”

He raised his chin, waiting for my response, which was nowhere to be found. I was too busy processing everything he’d just said. Everything he’d said at the bar. Everything he’d done in his office.

Yes, he made me feel nervous, strong, scared, and so pathetically needy I couldn’t walk away. Didn’t want to. He wasn’t a soft man. I didn’t need his admission to know that. But he was observant. In tune with me on a level that was like nothing I’d ever felt. He seemed to know what I needed to be comfortable. From giving me his jacket the first night I met him, to handling my body in a way that didn’t make me think of pain or past tainted memories.

He was in control, and would remain so. That was clear. It was also clear that there were reasons for that. Reasons I wanted to know, but that would take time. Figuring out earlier that he was learning me with every interaction would help with my goal: knowing him.

I wanted to know Jack. I was getting glimpses, but I really wanted to know him so intimately it was a need that rivaled the one I had for his body. But it would take time.

I frowned when that word repeated in my head: time.

“For how long?” I asked. “You make a lot of demands, but give no end date. How long do you want me as your captive?”

“Captive…” he put his hands in his pockets and looked at the ceiling, a slight smile playing over his face. Damn that thing. I’d only seen one full-blown smile, and it was on the night we met. It was a vision. “I like that. Lana Case: My Captive.” He looked back at me. “Why don’t we take this one day at a time?”

“So, you want all this commitment from me, and at any moment, you can discard me and—”

“I won’t discard you. We’re adults. We’ll have a conversation if our relationship shifts.”

“Why does this feel like an arrangement more than a relationship?”

“It’s both. I want to be clear with my brand of needs. Entering into any kind of relationship or arrangement without being up front would only give room for false expectations.”

“And you realized I’m not experienced with your brand of…”