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“I wish I could actually torture you. Wish you could suffer for fucking with my head like I suffer.”

God, this new feeling is hell. Loathing. I loathe myself for the things I say. Acting as if the things we’ve done mean nothing to me.

They do mean something.

They shouldn’t.

This fascination with her has to stop.

“I hate you!” she screams in my ear. Tears at my hair. “What the hell is wrong with you? I hate you!”

You’re what’s wrong. Wanting you is wrong.

“We’re back to this again?” Thank fuck we are.

“You’re insane.”

I tighten my grip around her waist as she thrashes against me. As I loop the rope around the hook that hangs off the ceiling.

“Stop.” Ophelia’s screams have turned into agonized cries. Probably from how easily I tie her wrists together. “James. Please, stop. I’ll be good. You asked me to be good the other night, right? I’ll be good. I promise. Please.”

Hugging her. Filling her with babies. Stuffing her mouth with my cock.

Any of these scenarios would be better than what I’m about to do.

But then, she’d come out on top. She’d manipulate me.

“You say you will, but we both know you’re a liar, Ophelia.” We’re face to face. Her toes are up in the air. Makes it easier for her to kick me, despite her promise to be good. “You can’t help being bad.”

I graze her cheeks, the gentle touch of my knuckles on her soft skin is delicious.

“A temptation.” Before I lose myself to her, I let my rage win over. I pull on the rope, lifting her another inch off the ground. “Your plan to ruin me won’t work.”

She gasps. The urge to get her on her knees and have her suck me is strong.

I’m fucking stronger.

“What are you talking about?” Her eyebrows rise. “What happened?”

Playing innocent. She does it exceptionally well. Even her gaze seems confused.

Lies.

From the moment we brought her down here, Ophelia has been plotting against me.

She won’t win. I won’t get attached to her. I won’t change for her.

I am not weak.

“Have any idea why you’re here?” If she can play mind games, so can I. “Know who the last woman I held captive was?”

“Do I look like I care?” She kicks me. Wants to spit on me. I can see it on her face. But after I licked it off my hand—fuck, it tasted good—she stops herself.

I cup her cheek. I wish I could cup her pussy. Sink my cock into her.

I have to break her first, to snap this hold she has over me.

Only then will I fuck her. I’ll do it until she’s as miserable as I am now.

My phone rings in my pocket. Whoever the fuck it is can try again later.

This is important. Crucial.

It’s everything.

“You’re here—” I start.

The phone goes back to ringing. Won’t stop.

“Your empire needs you,” she spits out. “Mr. Sadist Captor.”

She’s beautiful when she submits to me. She turns me right the fuck on when she fights. I grab her chin. Yank her face to mine.

“Owner, Ophelia.” I lean in, licking the corner of her mouth. Her soft cheek. “I’m your owner.”

“What happened? Why are you like this again? ‘I-I don’t want y?—”

I glower at her. She stops to think before lying to me and herself.

“Things haven’t been horrible between us. I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to. And you haven’t been—you’ve been rational. You haven’t been this .”

“ Things haven’t been horrible .” Despite mimicking her, I know she’s right. I’d go as far as to say I’ve been enjoying myself. And therein lies the problem. “I told you there was a reason for your presence here. Exchanging orgasms? Your consent? That’s not it.”

“Consent. As if that’s ever been on the table.” She laughs, and it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Can properties consent to anything?”

The phone won’t stop ringing. Motherfucker.

I can’t leave her like this. I can’t leave her at all. My heart is about to pound out of my chest. If I stop now, if I take her down and walk away, I’ll lose my nerve. I’ll take her in my arms. Try to be human for her.

She growls when I shake her head.

“Why, then?” Her voice is louder than the incessant ringing of the phone.

“Be quiet.” I take my phone out. Her eyes light up. “Ophelia, I’m warning you. The smallest sound. Any cry for help. So help me, I will kill you on the spot. It’ll be so easy to snap your neck. So. Easy.”

I won’t kill her. Wouldn’t dream of it.

Ophelia, however, believes me. She pretends to be brave. The quickening of her breaths gives her away. “Will you untie me if I promise to be quiet?”

Fuck no. “I won’t end your life. Good enough incentive?”

Her teeth sink into her plump bottom lip. Eyes flaring. “Fine.”

“Good girl.” Damn it. I shouldn’t praise her, though I keep doing it every single time I’m here. Her taunting smile proves to me how wrong it is. I ignore her, taking the call without looking at the screen. “What?”

“Mr. Hawthorne?” Griffith’s timid voice comes on. “You asked me to call back when I completed the…uh…assignment you gave me. Your specific orders were to call you until you picked up?”

Sure as fuck they were. Because of her.

Another prime example of how Ophelia messes with my head just by existing. Why I’m being cruel so I could stop wanting her this bad.

“Is he happy with her?”

He. Alessandro.

While he looked genuinely pleased at the auction, I refused to leave anything to chance. Preferring to remain anonymous, I told Griffith—who’s still scared shitless of me—to call Starlee.

The anonymous buyer had another order from the auction house. A gift to Alessandro. Her best woman, no matter the cost.

Whoever she was, she should’ve wiped out the memory of Ophelia from his head.

I can’t risk having him search for her.

My girl and her deepest dark eyes. The woman who watches me as if she can’t decide whether she wishes me dead or if she needs my head between her legs.

My temptation. My ruination.

Mine .

“Very much, Mr. Hawthorne, sir.” A baby cries in the background. Griffith shushes him as if the sound alone would summon the boogeyman into his living room. “Your men are keeping watch, as per protocol. The woman is unharmed. Anything else I can help you with?”

“Report back to me if anything changes.” If Alessandro gets bored with the woman I sent him. If he sniffs around, looking for Ophelia. “Understood?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

“Good.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Haw?—”

I end the call. Shove my phone into my back pocket.

“Let me down.” Her pulse continues to beat wildly. I can tell, now that I have my hand wrapped around her throat. Her voice, though, is even. “Let me the fuck down.”

I ignore her. Ignore my throbbing cock. The need that’s burning me alive.

I pour metaphorical ice on my overheated body and face her.

“Ophelia. Now, where were we?”