Destroyed

5

Hazel

My favourite saying was: the beauty in this world was hidden by filth and lies while evil was painted in beauty and smiles.

It had become a testament I lived by. A rule I never broke. Because I no longer trusted beauty and smiles. I learned the hard way.

I learned to scratch the surface and search for truth and realness, all the while protecting myself in lies.

But then a man, who was neither beautiful or a liar, made a proposition. With fear and stupidity, I sold myself to him. Sold myself to a fighter who could sense my lies as easily as a fox senses a rabbit.

I regretted it.

I revelled in it.

It destroyed me.

A second after I sold myself, a rush of horror smothered my heart.

What the hell am I doing?

I regretted it instantly, but I’d told Fox the truth. I would do anything for money, as money had the power to save Clara. She was the only thing worth fighting for. The only thing that would make me do such horrendous things.

If it meant she’d live another day, a month, a year—I would sell myself to countless men or work in a mine or even deal drugs out of my tiny apartment.

I sold my dignity. My body. My very fucking soul for money. All because I had no other way. No other assets, no hope apart from trading myself like some possession at a garage sale.

But with horror came relief. Half an hour ago I had no hope, but now I had two hundred thousand wishes to find a way out of heartbreak.

Fox stood tall, watching me warily. He seemed as shocked as I was with what happened between us. I hadn’t lied when I said he could’ve had me for free. If he’d been cordial and kind—I would’ve willingly gone on a date and even slept with him.

He’s an asshole but you like his arrogance, his iron-will, and demands.

I wanted to scrub my brain from such stomach-churning thoughts. I wasn’t a woman who bowed to the wills of men. I was a woman who shoved them down and trod all over them, leaving them in my dust. But Fox…he was angry but damaged. Scary but lonely. Demanding but requesting.

I couldn’t make sense of him at all. And that made me nervous. How would I know he would pay?

How will you stay for a month?

I gritted my teeth. That was one part of the bargain I would break. I wouldn’t stay for the month. I would sneak out and see Clara. I would find a way to see my sick daughter because I could never live with myself if she thought I’d abandoned her. And I wouldn’t put up with such stupid demands to keep me prisoner. A revision of the terms would be addressed, but not yet. Not until I gave him a little, so I could take a lot.

Cocking my head, I asked, “How can I be sure you’ll pay?”

His hands clenched as a burst of energy filtered through him. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his white-grey eyes. “I’ll pay. I promise.”

“You promised I couldn’t hurt you, but I did. Like I said, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” My eyes fell to his torn shirt, searching for the small cut I’d delivered.

“Alright, I see trust is a big issue for you. Just like I gave you back your knife in good faith, I’ll pay you half up front.” He raised an eyebrow. “Does that settle your nerves?”

Holding my head high, I said, “Yes, that would be appreciated.” The moment I had the cash I would take it home to Clara. As tempting as it would be to break the rest of the contract, I wouldn’t. I gave him my word.

My stomach fluttered at the thought of him touching me, thrusting deep inside. The money was for Clara, but the sex—I wanted that for me. I wanted to see what people wrote sonnets about. If the sparks between Fox and me were any indication, when he finally took me it would be worth the mild discomfort of accepting his money for a service rendered.

Fox came closer and I steeled myself against his overbearing presence. His scent of smoke and metal surrounded me, playing havoc with my thoughts. My knickers were damp from fighting with him, and my nipple still tingled where he’d cupped my breast.

His hand landed on my hip. A thumb circled my pronounced hipbone beneath the gossamer material of my dress. If I thought an innocuous touch on my wrist resonated with connection it was nothing, nothing, compared to the burst of hotness, the euphoria of his fingers stroking my tender flesh.

“I can’t wait to see you naked, dobycha.” His head bowed to run a nose through my styled hair. “I want your hair loose so I can hold it while I take you from behind.”

My core melted, my heart thrummed. I had nothing to retaliate with.

His gaze fell to my lips. “Don’t move.” Time slowed as his hand came up and cupped my braless breast again. “Tell me what you like so I can make this good for you, too.”

I shuddered as he brushed a thumb over the highly sensitive nipple. I swayed forward, willingly giving him access. “I like that.” A strange kind of peace settled over me. Gone was the embarrassment at selling myself. I would get more than just money from this. I would unlock hidden desires I never knew existed. I’d done the right thing and fate hadn’t forgotten about me—it had listened to my screams for help. It had given me Obsidian Fox.

His grip suddenly went from caressing to possessing, and I bit my lip, swallowing back a moan.

He sucked in a heavy breath, pinching my nipple with strong fingers almost as if testing himself, pushing boundaries I didn’t understand. “Do you like that?”

My head was suddenly too heavy for my neck; my body too floppy to stand. I wanted to press against him, encourage more of the aliveness to filter.

.My cheeks heated at the thought of admitting I liked it rougher, but then I embraced the fighter he brought out in me and looked up through my eyelashes. “Yes. I like that.”

“As much as you fight, you like to be controlled.” His head dropped and the tips of his shaggy bronze hair touched mine. “I can’t wait to find out what else you enjoy.”

My stomach clenched, sending thrills of fear and need into my core. Shit. He did have a gift. Yes, he could sense things only a highly in-tune person could know, but he also had a power over me. His unnerving presence made me forget everything but him. He took over my world. He was an eclipse.

Dropping his hand, he murmured, “Get in my office. Now.” His gaze caused the swirling lust and temper to bubble once again in my blood.

He stepped back and the low illumination glittered on the silver of his scar. It ought to make him hideous, but it only made it that much harder to ignore him.

Taking a step toward the stairs, I said quietly, “I’ll come back tomorrow. Once I’ve given my excuses and packed.”

In one insanely fast move, he barricaded the stairwell. He moved like a black ghost—silent, deadly, just as unnerving. “You’re not leaving. You agreed.”

My forehead furrowed, battling the call from his body to mine. “I agreed, yes. But not starting now. I need to go and see my—” I cut myself off.

Don’t tell him about Clara.

I found him sexually potent and secretly craved the dangerous unpredictably he presented, but I didn’t want him knowing about something so fragile and innocent.

Never.

Iciness replaced the heat he invoked. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

A sliver of worry stabbed my heart. What if I left and he had second thoughts? What if he followed me home and found out I had a dying daughter? Buying a woman for sex was one thing, but it was an entirely different matter buying a mother.

Now the cash was in my reach, I wouldn’t give it up.

Fox shook his head, advancing toward me. My heart stuttered with his every step. “You’re not leaving until the month is up. Deal’s a deal.” He pushed me backward, not touching, just manhandling me by his sheer will. “I told you I wanted you. And I’m going to take you tonight. You’re nuts to think you can leave here without letting me sample what I’ve bought—especially after you made me work so hard to earn it.”

A trace of chocolate and smoky metal surrounded me—his scent was a contradiction. He wore authority like one would wear an aftershave—reeking of anger and power.

He’d already won the argument, but I loved the thrill of fighting with him. It made my dampness turn to wetness. It turned warmth to hot. It made me crave him. “You can’t expect me to stay here with no preparation. I have to arrange everything. I have to change my clothing. I need a toothbrush for heaven’s sake.”

He smiled, the scar on his cheek twitching a little. “I have a spare toothbrush that I’ll give you. As for clothes, what makes you think you’ll be wearing any? You said you’d give me a month. I didn’t say where you’d spend that month.”

My heart shot out of my chest and exploded through the ceiling. I wanted to squeeze my legs together at the indecent desire he conjured in my veins. But then images of being chained in some torture chamber bombarded my mind. Bondage and pain and submission. I was better than that. I wasn’t a submissive. I was his equal, and I wouldn’t—couldn’t—let someone abuse me.

I wanted him. But I wouldn’t give up my rights as a human being. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not agreeing to any torture, or pain-play. I’ll let you take me, and I’ll let you decide what I wear, but I will not let you bind me or hit me.” My breathing quickened in a mixture of lust and terror.

Fox slammed to a stop. His large shoulders rolled and he looked as if I’d said something blasphemous. “You have my word I won’t use whips or any other equipment on you. Unless you change your mind.” His face twisted with some strange afterthought. “However, bondage will have to be addressed.”

“What? No. That wasn’t agreed—”

“Agreed or not you gave me your word. You’re bound now.” The way he spoke resonated with past emotion. As if he’d learned that the hard way. A contract was a contract. And in this case, unbreakable.

“I promise I won’t hurt you. Stop pissing me off by doubting me.” His eyes narrowed, delving deep into mine as if he could expose every lie I’d ever spun. I’d shocked myself when I told the truth about my ear. I hadn’t told anyone. But I had no choice. A man like Fox could smell a fib like a pheromone. He would’ve known.

Oh, God. That was another thing I’d suffer—not having the protectiveness of my lies. I couldn’t mask my sadness through fakery; I wouldn’t be able to gloss over the truth.

Sounds of flesh hitting flesh and grunts of violence rung in my ears from down below as a fight reached a pinnacle moment. The burst of noise stole me from the small world I’d existed in with Fox and reminded me he owned a place of fighting and encouraged blood to flow. If he loved to hurt others, how could I trust that he wouldn’t hurt me?

Regret and worry swarmed in my skull like angry hornets. There was no way out of this deal and no way I wouldn’t be stung.

Fox kept a careful eye on me and moved toward the wall to his right. He stepped elegantly through the shadows as if he was a shadow himself. Punching in a code on a keypad lock, he swung open a door I hadn’t seen, camouflaged by the black décor. Inclining his chin, he said, “Now that’s cleared up, shall we?”

The stairs were open and beckoning. I could run and forget tonight ever happened. But I’d never get an offer like this again. I’d always wonder just how alive he could make me—just how fierce he would make me become.

This was my only chance to help Clara—unless I wanted to rob a bank, or came up with some equally reckless notion.

Gritting my teeth, I stalked into his office with all the bearing I could muster. Fox didn’t move and his body heat scorched all my reservations to ash. My skin tingled as a slow curl of attraction rose. My nipple throbbed remembering his touch.

It’s been too long.

So long since I’d been touched and cherished. I shook my head. I was spinning lies—I’d never been cherished or adored. I’d been used and thrown away. I’d been shown the illusion of being desired for a very brief moment only to learn a valuable lesson: nothing was sacred, least of all my virginity.

Fox locked the door behind him and came toward me. I locked my knees together so I wasn’t tempted to step away. That would be a weakness, and I wasn’t weak. It also stopped me from doing something dangerous like demanding he touch me again.

He moved like a master—a man who knew how to fight and wasn’t afraid of forcing another to do his bidding.

What would he say if I told him I was a mother? Would he despise that I pretended to be a sexual creature, but really was practically a virgin? One prick to take away the title of inexperienced, and one prick to land me with Clara. Hardly counted as life-altering.

I captured my bottom lip between my teeth. I finally let myself be truthful. I was hungry. Really hungry for something true. A connection; a sexual awakening. My body wanted Fox while my mind wanted to fight him on every subject. The combination threatened to create an addiction that not even money could break.

“You’ve gone whiter than normal.” Fox leaned closer, nostrils flaring as if he could taste my panic. His eyes dropped to my throat. “Your heart is pumping wild, and your scent is stronger.” With a tentative hand, he brushed away the loose curls resting over my shoulder. The whisper of his skin against mine had me battling lust-heavy eyes, fighting the overpowering need. “What’s wrong?”

It didn’t matter if I was inexperienced. Sex was primal, instinctual, animalistic. I felt like a world-class courtesan. A woman who’d seduced men and been seduced in turn.

Fox was every erotic fantasy I ever entertained. And he’s paying to fuck you.

The thought should’ve turned me off, but it made me wetter.

Sucking in a breath, I whispered, “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

Fox cocked his head, frowning. “Remember, I can smell lies.”

I met his gaze—the icy grey made me feel as if I stood in a hurling snowstorm.

The more we stared, the more my body heated, the more I wanted. Until coming to this cursed club, I’d been satisfied. I didn’t crave a man, or need a pleasurable release. I had too many things consuming me without the complication of romance. But the moment I set eyes on Fox, I knew he was different. He was a man I could lust after.

It wasn’t his looks, or skill in the ring, that drew me. It wasn’t his scar or element of ruthlessness.

It was everything.

Obsidian Fox was so much male it was terrifying. Not only handsome, he wore his flaws for the world to see and offered no apology.

Breaking eye contact, I glanced around his office. The only light came from small LED strips highlighting more metal sculptures and artwork. I’d joked about his office being a dungeon, but it was close to the truth. Black painted walls, carpet, furniture, even light fixtures.

All black.

A large graffiti artwork of a fox, hunting under the glint of the moon, graced one wall.

Peering closer, I noticed a nasty scar deforming one side of the fox’s face, just like its owner. He seemed to love symbolism. Either that or he took himself way too seriously.

Fox inched nearer until the hairs on my arm stood up. Being so close made me yearn for his touch and fear it at the same time

I stifled a shiver as Fox stopped beside me, staring at the same graffiti. From this angle, his left profile was untouched. Smooth cheeks, smooth neck, angry desolate grey-white eyes. He held himself tight and alert. Primal, untamed, yet so disciplined and remote.

“Admiring Oscar’s handiwork?”

Oscar. The blond idiot who spoke about me like I was hooker trash. I bristled, hating that the douchebag had talent. Every feather and sweep from whatever method he’d used spoke of a true artisan.

“It’s good,” I muttered. “Talented.” I glanced at Fox. He looked wild as if he didn’t belong in manmade rooms—they were cages, no matter how he decorated.

I wanted to ask why he had an obsession with black. His club name, his furniture, even his wardrobe. Did he believe he deserved no colour in his life?

Fox made a noncommittal noise, his attention turned inward. The back of my neck pricked as his body tensed.

I fell deeper into the trap of wanting to know him. “Why do you try and hide where you’re from?”

His body locked down, eyes tightened. “Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answers to.”

His reluctance only made me more intrigued. “You can’t expect me not to ask questions in return for my secrets. I can tell you things I’ve sensed already. You never know…I might be as intuitive as you.” My voice was soft.

Fox glanced at me, his fists curled. “You’re confusing me with someone who gives a damn. I don’t care what you think about me. You’re mine to fuck, not to talk to and share my past.” He moved quickly, bringing the heat of his body close to mine. “Believe me, dobycha, you would not like what I have to say.”

I didn’t believe him. He wanted more than just sex. Cursing my rapidly thudding heart, I whispered, “You think I’m stupid, but I’m not. For instance, I know you use it as a weapon. Your scar.”

He scowled, facing me head on. His fingers twitched by his side.

“You were made to fight, that’s probably why you started this club, but you haven’t found peace yet. You’re angry and bitter and torn up inside and if you think you can pour all of that into me, you’re mistaken.”

He smirked, but it looked odd on his scarred face—an inhuman sneer that didn’t seem natural. “You think you’re smart? I’ll tell you something—you agreed to do the stupidest thing in your life when you accepted my offer. Not only do you think you can read me, but you’re silly enough to get swept up in the romantic notion that I’ll find redemption.”

He seemed to grow larger, more intimidating. His scar shone silver and weathered in the gloom. The air in the office thickened until it pressed heavy all around us, trapping me with a male who glared at me with hatred. “I don’t use the scar as a weapon. I use it as a warning.” His eyes flashed. “You may be able to hide your fuck-ups and mistakes, but I don’t have that luxury. My scar is a talisman. I don’t need to remember my sins—it’s visible every time I look in a fucking mirror.”

My stomach rolled as his energy buffeted me. His eyes locked onto mine, staring so hard I felt a twang deep inside when he plucked on my stupid heartstrings. “I’ll learn your sins before the month is out. But you won’t learn mine. And that’s a promise.”

Yet another promise you won’t be able to keep.

My lips parted as I sucked in an apprehensive breath. Violence tainted the air, turning it dark and smoky. It reminded me of a forest fire after it had incinerated everything in its path.

I had no intention of being in Fox’s path. His path to destruction.

I wanted to retort that he wouldn’t know my sins, but I knew the truth. He would. Normally, that would terrify me—to have another know absolutely everything about me—but in Fox’s case, even my worst sin probably wouldn’t compare to his.

A small noise sounded in my throat as Fox splayed a large hand possessively on my lower back and jerked me closer. I shivered as my hips connected with his hard and fast. The hot steel in his trousers branded my belly only for a moment before he pushed me non-too-gently away.

Grabbing my wrist, he yanked me across the room. “We’ll discuss the fine print at my desk.”

I slammed on the brakes.

I had a good mind to scream and kick him. I hated the way he manhandled me. How he expected me to obey implicitly. He proved he had no concept of how to treat a woman at all.

Rules.

“We need rules. You need to know the dos and don’ts around me, and I need to know them for you.” My eyes narrowed. “Rule number one. I don’t appreciate being corralled or forced to do something I don’t want to. It never worked for anyone in the past, and it won’t work for you.”

His silvery eyes glinted with interest. “Sounds like we have more in common than I thought.” Giving me a small nod, he let me go and rounded the desk to sit in the black chair behind. “Rule number one for me. Don’t disrespect me. If you have something to say, be eloquent. I don’t respond well to profanity or ridicule.”

Crap, he was right. We did have things in common.

I fumbled for my next rule. “Rule number two. I’m not a belonging you just stole and have the right to treat like dirt. If you ever pull a knife on me again, you won’t be a man anymore. You’ll be a eunuch.” My hand holding my blade reached up and re-secured the clip into place.

His lips twitched. Placing his palms on the desk, he leaned forward. “Rule number two for me. If I ask you to do something, you’ll do it. Think of the next month’s pay as a salary for being my employee. It doesn’t matter that sex is in involved. I want more from you than just the pleasure of sinking between your legs.” His voice roughened, eyes glowing with white hot lust.

My stomach flipped at the mental image of him taking me. Fucking me. Despite my best efforts to remain aloof, a tingle darted to my core, and I had the sudden urge to sit down. Clearing my throat, I sat in the only chair in front of his desk.

Tension curdled as Fox stayed frozen, watching my every move. I crossed my legs, pressing my thighs together against the throbbing desire permeating the room.

Announcing our rules had suddenly become more than just talk about business, it’d become layered with unspoken attraction and frightful uncertainty. I’d never had to fight my body’s reaction before. I’d never come across a man who I wanted to strip to the bone and discover everything he kept hidden.

Not even Clara’s father.

Not that it would be considered a love affair. He’d taken my virginity behind the toilet block in Hyde Park. It’d been messy, awkward, and a little painful. It wasn’t rape, but it wasn’t exactly consensual either. I’d been a stupid, reckless fifteen-year-old who thought she could tease and not pay the consequences.

Fox shattered my reminiscing. “Rule three for you?”

The stress in my body returned, mirroring the anxious strain in the room. Fox never took his eyes off me, effectively pinning me against the chair. I no longer focused on my surroundings. This man had the power to steal my every thought.

“Rule three,” I began, my voice huskier than before, “umm, I expect you to treat me as more than just a sex toy. I need mental stimulation and would appreciate if you spoke to me kinder rather than like a giant gorilla who thinks he’s top authority.”

My mind raced between the threat of sex and the allure of money.

What sort of mother am I?

Fox’s lips flickered into a quick smile before he smoothed his features.

He tilted his head in vague agreement. “Rule three for me, I’ll give you the mental stimulation you need, but in return I expect everything. I ask a question—you give me the truth. I ask you to do something—you do it.”

Snapping his fingers like I’d seen him do on the fighting floor, his voice darkened. “While you’re in my house under my protection, you’ll forget about the outside world. Your friends, your family, your entire life no longer exists. Just me.”

My heart bucked as true fear rushed back and doubt crept in. I’d learned how to sneak and stay hidden from my childhood—I just hoped I could use those skills to disappear at night to see Clara. Fox would never have to know, and I could hug and kiss my daughter while making sure she stayed happy and well.

I nursed my own deception even as I accepted his rules.

“Do I need a medic to run a sexual health test on you? Are you on the pill?”

I should’ve been prepared for that question. Of course, he wouldn’t want to wear condoms for a month. But I hadn’t rehearsed my answer.

Old pain rose as memories tried to cloud me.

Fox sat forward. His eyes narrowed, sensing my reluctance.

I dropped my gaze. My fingers swooped up to fiddle with the matching star necklace Clara and I wore. The familiarity of the silver helped calm me.

I’d been eighteen. A struggling mother with a bratty two-year-old, working all hours of the day to support us. I’d been so wrapped up in my worries, I hadn’t heard the footsteps behind me.

“Give us your money, bitch.”

One moment I stood on two feet, the next I kissed asphalt.

Four pairs of legs surrounded me, all male, all young, and full of something to prove.

Without a word, I fumbled for my bag and gave the thirty dollars and twenty-five cents that I had in cash.

“That’s it? Where’s the rest of it?”

What followed hurt too much to relive. I’d been lucky, I supposed. I wasn’t raped, but there were only so many kicks to the stomach that a young body could sustain until infertility occurred.

I’d spent a week in hospital while my precious toddler had been looked after by an elderly woman who lived above us.

“Tell me. What are you thinking?” Fox growled.

A chill eased through my blood, helping me remain cool and unfeeling. “I’m clear from diseases, and you don’t need to worry about contraception.” My voice hardened. “I’m not going to sleep with you until I know your history, too. As part of my rules, I need to know you’re clean.”

His shoulders tightened and jaw ticked, but he nodded slowly. “I’m clean. You have nothing to fear from me.” Darkness shadowed his eyes for just a moment followed by a flippant hand gesture. “I’m taking sleeping with bastards for cash is a new thing for you?”

My mouth hung open. “There you go again. I thought we’d made progress—that’d I’d judged you too harshly, but nope. You’re still an asshole.” Swiping a hand through my tangled hair, I snapped, “I’ve already told you I’m not a whore, and I’m not answering anything that’s disrespectful. I promised I wouldn’t disrespect you, so don’t do it to me.”

His body rippled with energy, everything about him poised to attack. Slowly, he rolled his shoulders, dismissing the build-up as quickly as it’d come. “You’re right. At least we have the formalities out of the way.”

My legs itched to stand up and walk out the door. Everything about this agreement was wrong. But the bribery of two hundred thousand kept me glued to the chair like a puppet, and his mystery kept me from hating him completely.

And your desire for him makes you wet.

I shifted, feeling cheap.

He ran a forefinger over his bottom lip. The lighting in the room didn’t illuminate much, leaving me with the sensation of being cut off from everything. Alone in a private world with this scarred stranger.

“I’ll have Oscar arrange the first payment and send it to wherever you want, but if you leave without my permission you will owe me every cent.” The leather of the chair creaked as he sat higher. “Don’t expect a generous lover in me. I plan to take everything you have to give.” His voice came out low, husky, almost inaudible.

Nerves fluttered in my stomach. His eyes captured mine. “That’s hardly fair.”

He spanned his hands. “That’s the deal. I’m buying you for my pleasure. Don’t forget that.”

“How can I forget?” I muttered.

Fox sniffed at my flippant remark.

I said, “You won’t let me leave for a month, but you’ll let me use the phone. I need to call someone.”

His forehead furrowed. “One phone call.”

“One?”

I can’t believe this. It’s like being in jail.

“From now on, you have to ask permission to do anything. You’ve handed over your rights to me.” Fox smiled grimly. “Welcome to my world, dobycha.”

Goosebumps spread at the foreign word.

Sighing, I thought about what I’d agreed to. For someone who’d never had to answer to anyone her entire life, it would take a lot of getting used to.

“And the other fine print?” I asked.

He stood and came around the desk to face me, trespassing on my personal bubble. “You let me do what I want to you.”

I held up my hand, ready to cut him off, but he snapped, “Let me finish.”

“I have free reign over your body. You let me treat you like a possession, and I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Questions flew wild in my head. He was asking me to give up my freedom, to bow to him, to relinquish all thoughts of belonging to myself, and obey his every whim.

Two hundred thousand suddenly wasn’t enough.

The word ‘no’ danced on my tongue. He might intrigue me, seduce me, and offer a chance at saving my daughter, but a month was a very long time.

In a lightning move, Fox grabbed my arm and hauled me upright. I teetered on my stupid heels, cursing the pinching pain of blisters. My eyes came to his mouth, and I gulped as he licked his lips.

“Your first order is to put your hands behind your back.” His breath tickled my eyelashes, smelling faintly of chocolate and mint.

I frowned.

“Do it,” Fox demanded.

Slowly, I brought my arms behind my back and linked my fingers. The moment I’d locked them against the small of my back, he hooked his finger into the dip in my dress and dragged me forward. My chest collided with his—my breasts against his hard muscle. My stomach rose and fell, brushing against his chiselled one.

“Don’t unlock your fingers.” His voice acted like fuel to the fire already licking my core. I shivered as his fingers trailed from my hips up to my waist. The pads of his thumbs tickled the sides of my breasts as he worked his way upward.

Slowly. So, slowly. Softly. So, softly.

My vision darkened; I went lightheaded all thanks to the heat he invoked inside me—turning my craving into a lunatic obsession.

I needed his touch. I needed to be petted and pampered and adored. I’d never been a sexual creature, but now I understood why people hungered for it. Why the thought of being taken and worshiped had such maddening appeal.

Shamelessly, I felt wetness building between my legs.

Fox bowed his head, his eyes never leaving mine. Green to grey, vivid to colourless. My lips parted on their own accord; my breath grew shallow as my legs shook.

Inch by inch he came closer, bringing with him the scent of smoke and metal.

I tensed for a fast kiss. A hard kiss. But Fox held himself still, hovering over my mouth only a fraction away from touching. My lips tingled and ached; my tongue wanted to dart out and lick him.

If he was using my body against me, it was working.

A small noise sounded in his chest, and I looked harder into his eyes. Instead of raw passion there, I saw utter confusion. My heart stuttered and once again my protective instincts rose. He shouldn’t be confused. I would kiss him in that moment even if I had to do it for free.

I’d never know who crossed the last millimetre of distance, but I moaned the instant his lips touched mine. Our eyes snapped shut, and nothing else existed but taste.

I kept expecting him to break. To drag me closer and plunge his tongue into my mouth, but he did the opposite. With perfect pressure, he coaxed my lips apart and the very tip of his tongue entered my mouth. His taste intoxicated me, and I strained forward, rubbing my breasts against him.

He stiffened, but didn’t stop kissing me, keeping up the maddening softness, exploring deeper with a gentle tongue. My head swam as I forgot to breathe; my fingers loosened until my hands fell to my sides. All I could think about was touching him, dragging him closer, forcing him to be rough, to end his infuriatingly slow assault.

Something switched in him and his lips pressed harder. Confidence filled his touch and he dragged me closer, hips thrusting just enough for me to feel the hard heat in his slacks. I tipped my head, allowing him better access, wanting him to kiss me deeper.

But he didn’t take advantage.

Slow and soft and coaxing.

It was the best kiss I’d ever received, but also the worst. It sparked lust and need in every inch of me. My lips wanted more, my tongue wanted savagery. My skin wanted to bruise because he needed to touch me so badly.

All my thoughts disappeared as I nipped at his bottom lip. He flinched, but a second later he copied, his sharp canines piercing my oversensitive flesh.

I moaned.

I couldn’t take it.

My hands flew up and gripped his shirt. Yanking him toward me, fireworks whizzed in my fingertips; my heart galloped toward exploding with lust. I’d never been so drunk on someone before.

Then I landed flat on my back.

The crack of my skull jangled my teeth. The thick carpet did little to cushion me. My eyes flared wide and I grunted in pain. Fear, hot and terrible, swamped my lust in a dampening wave.

“Top rule. Unbreakable rule. Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me.” Fox kneeled on one knee beside my head, breathing hard. His hand noosed my throat, pressing my spine into the carpet. His eyes were cold and lifeless, looking like a hunter intent on blood.

I gasped, struggling to breathe. I couldn’t unfog my brain.

“Never touch me.” His hands tightened, crushing my windpipe.

He’s going to kill me.

Hot terror erupted and I scratched at his grip. Scratching, prying, trying to unlock his incredibly strong fingers. Clara flashed in my mind, bringing hot tears to my eyes.

He bent further, squeezing harder. “What did I just say?”

I thrashed, needing air. My eyes felt too big for my sockets; my ears roared with blood. I need to breathe!

My thoughts were scrambled, but one thought trumpeted: Don’t touch him.

Stop touching him!

It took all my strength to obey. Every instinct boycotted when I forced myself to let go—to allow him to willingly strangle me.

Dropping my hands to my sides, I locked my elbows, keeping them dead straight. I shuddered uncontrollably, battling the instinct to fight back.

Only once I’d gone completely still, with no threat of touching him, did he unlock his fingers and stand. The instant he let me go, I rolled onto my side and hacked and choked, dragging oxygen into greedy lungs.

He stood staring, his face black and terrifying.

I thought I knew what I agreed to, but I hadn’t. I hadn’t factored in his volatile mental state. He was more than just an asshole. He was unhinged—deranged—and every agreement we’d made seemed incredibly idiotic.

He groaned under his breath, sounding like a wounded animal before dragging hands over his face. He paced away, stalking from one end of the room to the other.

By the fifth or six lungful of air, I sat up. But I was too afraid to stand. I liked being down here, away from his murdering fingers.

Fox prowled, muttering under his breath. His eyes flashed from deadly to contrite to weary. Stopping behind his desk, he snarled, “I didn’t mean to do that.” His fists opened and closed with unspent energy. “You provoked me. At least now you know what happens. Don’t disobey me. Next time, I might not have the strength to stop.”

His mouth tightened into a grimace. Anger rolled off him, buffeting me across the small distance between us. My heart raced, and I couldn’t look away. He entrapped me with his stare, wreaking havoc on my emotions.

I flushed, dropping my gaze. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. Nervously I climbed to my feet, kicking off the stupid heels to stand barefoot on the silky strands of the carpet. Better to run. Better to flee. “I didn’t mean to disobey.”

I wanted to curse him for hurting me rather than apologise, but his remorse was real. It echoed in the room, vibrating in his muscles. He watched me warily as if I’d run at any moment. It was his fault for kissing me so sweetly, so gently. For a man who wore violence as his true identity, my mind couldn’t come to terms with how softly he’d kissed me.

Running a shaky finger over my bottom lip, I tried to forget. Tried to ignore the awkwardness, the strange determination, and sweet eagerness that’d been on his tongue. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that it’d been his first kiss.

Testing, learning, figuring out how to do it.

My eyes widened, staring at Fox. The concept of him never kissing anyone seemed completely absurd. This male didn’t kiss. He plundered and took.

So why did I kiss a completely different man than the one standing in front of me?

Once again my heart popped with little bubbles of despair. The tenderness of a motherly instinct rose quickly. I wanted to tear through his inner turmoil and give him a person to confess to, lend an ear and nod in concern—to share his burden.

Because he was burdened. Heavily.

His gruffness and scar didn’t scare me. He spun a lie and the stench of untruths never worked on me.

Flashes of emotion appeared in his eyes.

My heart raced, bashing against my ribs. Taking a careful step forward, ignoring the bruising around my neck, I asked, “Are you alright?”

His eyes popped wide and he laughed. “You’re asking if I’m alright? Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

I shrugged. “We all have triggers. I believe you when you said you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

He froze, staring as if I confused the hell out of him. “If we all have triggers, you must have one. What’s yours?” His voice stayed deceptively quiet.

I wasn’t being baited into revealing more of my secrets before I was ready. Shaking my head, I said, “That doesn’t matter. What matters is I promise I won’t touch you again. I can see it’s an issue for you. I’ve learned my lesson.”

And I’ll figure out the reason behind it.

Fox gritted his teeth. For a second, I wondered if he’d order me to leave—that he no longer wanted to buy me.

Finally, he nodded. “In that case, let’s proceed.”