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Only that isn’t really true, though, is it?
I can’t steal something that’s already mine.
She spits in my face, and while I wipe it off, my brain empties of every single thought except one: I think I fucking love this woman.
“Did you fucking kidnap me?” One sentence I never thought I’d say.
“Think of it as protective custody.” His lip twitches in amusement.
“Because I chose to protect you over family—the previous most important thing to me—the Bratva will now be after you. They think I took someone precious from them, and now they will try to take someone precious from me.” “So, what now? I’m just going to be locked up in here with you like some princess in a tower.” “No, baby. You’re a queen.”
“What makes you think there wouldn’t be audio?” “In all the crime shows I watch, there never is audio for any surveillance footage.”
“This isn’t an episode of SVU.
“Keep making those sweet sounds and I really will fuck you on every inch of this counter.” “Keep kissing me like that and I might let you.”
“We’re endgame, baby, and if you don’t see that, you better put that bullet in my head right now because I’m gonna ruin all other men for you when I worship every inch of your body.”
“You belong to me as surely as the heart that beats in this chest belongs to me.”
I’m not a religious man, but goddamn if she didn’t make me want to drop to my knees in worship.
“You fucking roll your eyes at me again, I’ll take you across my knee and turn your sweet ass bright red. And you know I’ll enjoy every second of it, so go ahead. Call my bluff, baby.”
I don’t take orders from anyone, but if she asked me to crawl and lick her feet, I’d fucking do it.
“You’re mine, Harlow. My woman, my property, my queen, my fucking whore, if I so choose.”
