The silence stretches between us until I can’t stand it anymore, and I gather what’s left of my courage.
“What are you going to do?” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “About... claiming me.”
Xavier’s fingers pause their lazy exploration of my skin. “That’s an interesting question.” His voice carries that familiar edge of danger that both terrifies and excites me. “But I think the more important question is what you want.”
“What do I want?” I echo.
“Mmm.” His free hand slides up my thigh possessively. “Do you want me to walk away tomorrow? Let you return to your mundane life, your pathetic existence, living only for journalism?”
Each word lands like a slap. I open my mouth to protest, but he continues.
“Or...” His thumb traces the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, making me shiver. “Do you want my cock splitting you open every night for the next year? Do youwant to belong to me completely—body, mind, and that stubborn little soul of yours?”
The crude words should offend me. It should make me recoil and remember who I am and what I stand for. They don’t, though, they send heat pooling between my legs, making its own demands known in no uncertain terms.
“I—” I start, then stop because I don’t know how to answer. Don’t know how to reconcile the independent woman I’ve always been with the creature he’s turned me into.
“Tell me what you want, Mira.” His voice drops to that low, commanding tone that makes my brain go fuzzy as it fills my mind with the possibility. “Do you want me to claim you? To own you? To make you mine for an entire year while you pretend you don’t love every second of it?”
My hands tremble where they rest on the table. Around us, the other hunters and their prey continue their negotiations, but the sound fades to white noise. There’s only Xavier, only this impossible choice he’s forcing me to make.
“I...” The word comes out in barely a whisper. “I don’t know.”
“Liar.” His thumb presses against my clit through the silk, making me gasp. “You know exactly what it is you want. Do we need to play a game of truth or consequences?”
He releases my throat and pinches my nipples through the thin silk, hard enough to make me archagainst him. The sharp sensation shoots straight between my thighs, and I can’t suppress the whimper that escapes my lips.
“You want to know what it would mean if I did? It means bringing you here every single night. Three hundred and sixty-five nights of spreading your legs for me while everyone watches.”
He twists my nipples harder, and I bite down on my lip to keep from moaning. “I’ll fuck you on every surface in this place,” he continues. “That stage where you first challenged me—I’ll bend you over it and make you scream my name while the entire club watches. The bar where you served drinks—I’ll lift you onto it and eat your pussy until you forget your own name.”
My breathing becomes ragged as his words paint vivid pictures in my mind. I should be horrified; I should be fighting against this twisted fantasy he’s weaving.
“The private booths, the dance floor, my office—there isn’t a single spot in Purgatory where I won’t have had you.” His teeth graze my earlobe. “And when I’m done with you. When you’re trembling and dripping with my cum, I’ll make you watch while others perform for us. You’ll sit on my lap, still filled with my cock, and we’ll watch other couples fuck. Women and men will be dominated and used while you’re displayed as mine.” His free hand slides between my legs, fingers pressing against the damp silk. “You’ll get wet watching them, won’t you? Just like you did tonight.”
The truth of his words makes my cheeks burn withshame. He’s right—watching the others had aroused me almost as much as his touch.
“Every night for a year,” he whispers against my ear. “Owned, fucked, used. Is that what you want, my little exhibitionist? To be my personal fucktoy while all of Ravenwood Hollow watches?”
The words should horrify me, but they drown me instead—his filthy promises washing over me as his fingers weave dark magic between my thighs.
I want it.
God help me. I want every depraved thing he’s describing. The thought of being displayed for his pleasure, of belonging to him so completely that my own identity is stripped away by his ownership—it sends fire racing through my veins.
My resolve is growing weaker by the second, overpowered by the throbbing need between my thighs—the dark hunger Xavier’s awakened in me.
I can’t form words. Can’t bring myself to voice the desires that should shame me. So, I nod, the motion barely perceptible but enough.
“Good,” Xavier purrs against my ear. “Because that’s exactly what you are getting.”
His fingers press harder against my clit through the silk, and I have to bite down on my lip to keep from moaning. The possessive timbre of his voice makes my stomach flutter with a long-absent sensation that feels dangerously close to happiness.
“Every night for a year,” he continues, his breath hotagainst my neck. “You’ll be mine to use, to display, to fuck however I want. And Mira...”
He pauses, his fingers stilling between my legs. When he speaks again, it’s to profess a dark promise that makes my heart skip a beat.
“I can’t promise I’ll give you up after that year ends.”
