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“Those women are a buffet. But you? You’re a delicacy. I’ll eat you slowly with attention to every bite. I’ll drink you like fine wine, savoring your taste, inhaling your scent, letting you own me for as long as you’re in my mouth.”
“I’ll swallow all of you, but you won’t realize it until it’s too late. Until you’re a part of me,” he said. “That’s what you sold me. That’s what I paid for.”
“This is about you, not me. Tonight, you’re my queen.” He made sure she was looking him in the eye when he added, “And that makes me your king. If you’re worried about making love, don’t be. I’m going to fuck you too.”
“I don’t want any misconceptions. I’m going to make you uncomfortable. I’m going to worship you. I’m going to dominate you. Any man who just has sex with a woman like you is a fool. I want to make art with you—dirty, impossible, fucked-up, beautiful art.”
“When you’re nice to me, it makes me want to kiss you,” he warned. “What about when I’m mean?” She allowed herself a playful smile. He palmed her lower back and drew her close to his side. “It makes me want to be mean back.” He slid his hand over the curve of her backside but stopped. “Your patience is admirable,” she said, hoping he didn’t notice her slight gasp between words. “My patience is thin.”
“If you’re fighting against the wrong thing, the only person you’ll hurt is yourself.” The
“I’ll fuck you within an inch of your life, but it won’t hurt. It will calm you. Your only job is to do what I say. And, of course, enjoy yourself.”
“Don’t protect him,” Beau said. “He didn’t protect you.”
The price of a million dollars was not her body. It was glimpsing what could’ve been and wondering for the rest of her life if she should’ve been in that car. It was the seed of doubt planted in her mind that could potentially grow many different branches.
