He Knows When You’re Awake: A Naughty or Nice Novel

by Alta Hensley

He’s gorgeous. Tall, with dark hair and eyes that seem to look right through me. But it’s not just his looks. There’s an aura of power around him, like he’s used to commanding every room he enters. And right now, those penetrating brown eyes are fixed solely on me.

“It’s not a trap if she wants to be caught.”

“If I were a serial killer, I’d have much better pickup lines than ‘Come live in my tower and make pretty things.’”

“This necklace makes me want to do dirty things. Raw, unhinged things,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “It makes me want to see what you’d look like surrendering. I think this necklace could unleash the inner beast in anyone.”

He’s been watching me, studying me . . . and I hate that I love it. That I crave his attention like it’s oxygen. That some part of me wants to belong to him, even when I know I shouldn’t.

“You do realize it’s slightly unsettling that you know my exact measurements?” “I know everything.” He pauses. “That sounded less ominous in my head.”

I want to watch the diamonds rest against your throat while you remember who put them there.

“What I want . . .” His teeth graze my collarbone. “Is to take you right here, surrounded by your sketches and scattered gems. To watch you come apart on this table where you create.”

“You’re mine,” he says again, his words threading through the haze of overstimulation. “Mine to claim. Mine to punish. And if you ever try to run out on me again, it won’t be just my finger in your ass.”

If he touches what’s mine, I’ll remind him exactly who he taught me to be.

His eyes darken as his grip tightens slightly. “If you want dark,” he murmurs against my ear, “I don’t have to kill anyone to make that happen.”

“Good girl,”

“Mine,” he growls against my pulse point, teeth grazing delicate flesh. “As long as you wear this collar, you are mine. In every way.”

“Because you’re mine now, Sloane. In every way.”