She blinked back the tears that were stinging her eyes. And she didn’t try that hard to hold them back. Her heart ached, her throat burning.
Because she didn’t know the answer to that question. If her husband could only ever give her this, what would it mean? If, after deciding to give it all, she could only get crumbs in return, what would she do?
It made her want to fold in on herself and start building new armor. To push him away. To retreat into a place where she was safe. From comparisons made by him, made by the media. From the deep fear that one day she would look into his eyes, searching for the truth of his feelings, and see nothing. From anything that might hurt her.
But she couldn’t do that. Not now. Never again.
“Then I will take everything you are,” she said, the words heavy on her tongue. The vow heavy in her heart, on her shoulders. Because in that moment she knew it was true. And she knew she couldn’t go back on it.
But as she looked into his dark, fathomless eyes she wished she could. She wished some other man had claimed her heart years ago so that she wasn’t so vulnerable to this one.
But there was no other man. There was only Ajax. It had always been that way, and she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it always would be.
* * *
Every muscle in Ajax’s body was locked tight, ready to release at any moment. To pounce on Leah, maybe? Or to run. That was the other possibility.
They’d driven back to the penthouse in total silence, Leah wringing her hands in the seat next to him, looking out the window and most definitely not at him. And he wondered if she was already regretting what she’d asked of him.
He was at war. He wanted her. Wanted her hands all over his body, her mouth on him. But he knew that if that happened, in one blinding moment years of hard-won control could be undone, and he might never get it back.
That he could become the monster he had always feared he was.
The beast he kept chained inside of him, was him. He knew it, had always known it. And it terrified him down to his soul. That if he ever let it go, those parts of himself would meld back together, and there would be no more separating it.
That he would become the thing he hated most. Oh, he didn’t think he would become a drug lord. But a man consumed by the desire for power? For success? At the expense of all else?
Yes, that lived in him. That horrible, conscienceless drive lived in him. Strong and black, seeking to devour whatever it could on the path to success. Not just success, to ultimate, unquestionable power, and damn who was hurt in the process.
He didn’t want that to have free rein. Ever.
But now he was standing in the bedroom at his penthouse, and Leah was looking at him with wide golden eyes, fringed with dark lashes. Her lips were painted red, her dress, a deep green, molded to her curves, and he stood ready to trade everything in for the chance to taste her with no limits.
To have her with no ties to hold her back.
Yes, that was what he wanted. So badly he ached with it. And he didn’t have the power to fight it anymore. Suddenly, having her seemed to be the most essential thing he could imagine. The embodiment of a dream, buried so deep, for so long, that unearthing it was nearly painful.
“Show me, Leah,” he said. “Show me what you want. Show me who you are.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“YOU FIRST.” SHE tilted her chin up, her hip cocked to the side, her eyes glittering. “I feel like I’ve been doing a lot of giving here lately. Not that you don’t...give admirably during our encounters—you do. But I feel like I’m the vulnerable one, so now it’s your turn. Get naked, Ajax.”
Her command felt like it was for more than skin. Like she wanted the kind of nakedness he was most afraid of. The kind that would reveal more than his body. The kind that would reveal what was left of his soul, and the state it was in.
But for her he would.
He started unbuttoning his shirt, then his pants, and he stood before her, naked. Shaking. She was unbound; she could do with him what she wanted. He was at her mercy, and he didn’t regret it.
She approached slowly, a low flame burning in her eyes, gold flickering in the dim light. She reached out and put her hand on his bare chest, nails raking over his flesh, lightly. The slight pain was, as it had been their first time, a welcome gift to help temper the pleasure that was holding him by the throat.
And then she kissed him there, her lips hot on his neck, her teeth grazing him slightly. A testament of her power. That she held him in thrall using no force, only touch.