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“I got a full scholarship, but it didn’t include housing. So, I found somewhere I could afford,” I confess, telling him just enough to answer his question but nothing more.

“And your family?”

Swallowing thickly, I shrug, “I grew up in foster care.”

“Are your foster parents from Montana?”

“No,” I admit, giving him nothing more, unwilling to spill my tale of woe to him.

“How long do you have left on the lease on your apartment?”

“I’m not sure why you need to know that,” I say confidently, or as confidently as I can muster with his fingers still caressing my jaw.

“Because I want to know how much of a mess I’ll have to handle when I move you in.” His words, voice, and tone are so even, so calm, that it takes me a moment to process what he’s said.

“What?” I blurt. “No. I. No…what?”

“You’re mine, Kitten. I know this might seem fast, but I can’t let you live somewhere that’s not safe.”

“Yours?” I question like an idiot.

“Yes, Kitten. All mine. Mine to protect, to adore, to own…” His voice trails off until his next words are barely audible. “To control.”

Shaking my head, I search for the right words. “Anders, this is…no.”

“It’s a lot…I’m a lot. But we can figure this out, Kitten. This is right, and I know you feel it too.”

“Feel what?” I question, exasperated and bewildered.

“What’s happening between us,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Before I can try to muster a reply, his lips are on mine, softly taking a kiss from me.

Frozen, my mind blanks, and I falter. This is my first kiss, but Anders isn’t the type of man you should learn to kiss with.

Despite my blatantly obvious lack of experience, he doesn’t pull back. Instead, his lips slowly, gently coax me to mimic his movements. After a few awkward moments, some kind of instinctual knowledge clicks into place inside of me, and I start to tentatively kiss him back. His fingers are still on my jaw, but when his other hand curls around my throat, I gasp, parting my lips just wide enough for him to push his tongue into my mouth.

A soft, shocked sound burbles from my throat, and I melt into his touch, reacting to his hand on my throat like he just shot me with muscle relaxant. Why does his palm gripping my Adam’s apple feel so freaking good?

Heat is pouring from him into me, and without my permission, I lean forward into his touch, unsure what I’m asking for, but needing more. When his fingers grip me more firmly, my hips twitch, grinding my dick into the air.

“Good boy,” Anders growls, dragging his lips from mine and pressing them to my chin, my jaw, then lower, moving down toward where he’s collaring me with his huge, roughly calloused palm. “My Kitten likes that, don’t you?” he rasps, his voice low and gravelly, the sound vibrating against my skin.

“I…” I pant, unsure how to speak.

“My Boy…my Kitten, you like being held in place. You like feeling my control over you like this, don’t you?” Still talking, his lips travel back to mine, and this time when he kisses me, I instantly part for him, desperate to taste his tongue, while my entire being submits willingly into his hold.

“Such a good boy,” he praises again, slowing the kiss until his lips are only pressing barely there nips against my mouth, like he’s trying to stop but can’t quite make himself do it.

By the time he pulls his lips away from mine, putting a small amount of space between us, my dick is an iron rod in my pants,and I know that if he kisses me again, I’ll come. It doesn’t matter that his hands haven’t moved lower than my neck. It doesn’t matter that we’re both still fully clothed. I’m desperate; he’s made me desperate.

Blinking my eyes open, I stare up at him. His mouth is barely three inches away, and I part my lips, ready to ask…to beg for more, but before I can speak, he tightens his palm around my throat, and I explode.

A guttural groan bursts from my throat as my butt lifts from the couch without my permission. Humping the air, I grind my hips against nothing as cum explodes from my cock, soaking my boxers.

Anders’s eyes go wide, and his gaze drops to my lap. Mortification consumes me, and I know without looking that I’m as red as a tomato, heat billowing from me as embarrassment coats my arousal, turning it into instant shame.

“Oh, Kitten,” Anders whispers. “I didn’t know you were so needy.”