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I couldn’t sleep. She was curled up, mouth slightly open, resting peacefully like she wasn’t the reason my head was pounding. The reason my chest ached like I had unfinished business.

Why didn’t she call me? Why didn’t she try to contact me? She changed her number. I had to steal Sebastian’s phone just to call her, so she could hear what he really thought about her.

I laid there, naked, dick heavy against my thigh, body still humming from being inside her.

I was trying to figure out in my head what happened next.

How did I keep her? I could lock her up.

Keep her somewhere safe. Somewhere where she could only be mine and she'd be out of danger. She’d probably kick and scream for a while.

But she’d settle. And if she didn’t—it didn’t matter either.

Restless, I sat up slowly, swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My muscles were tight, still high off her scent. I wandered around her room. Clean. Modest. Quiet. Her drawers were half-stuck. I tugged one open and found a blunt. Old, but intact. I laughed under my breath, held it to my nose.

I was nearly fourty, I hadn’t smoked weed in nearly twenty years. I grabbed the lighter from her drawer and lit it anyway.

The flame touched the tip, and the burn filled my lungs.

I dropped into her desk chair and started clicking through her emails. Overdue bills. Past due student loans. Donation receipts from when she had it.

She stirred behind me.

"You're nosey," she said in this honey-coated voice that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

I groaned to myself. She could ask me for blood in the right tone, and I’d give her access to my vein. Two nights. That’s all it took. I was pussy-drunk. Mind gone. Spine bent.

Weaknesses were not things I could afford to have. Not when my enemies shared a bed with me. But for her, I’d betray God and kiss the devil’s ring.

"I paid for your sister's rehab. Why do you have past-due bills? Student loans?"

"None of your business," she said simply. There wasn’t any inflection in her tone.

"Then answer me this." I finally turned, eyes dragging over her relaxed body—she was tangled in the sheets.

"Why didn’ t you contact me? I know you felt what I felt." Thinking about her after that night had ruined my sleep. My focus. She was in my blood by the third time she let me in her. How could she not be as affected? How could she act like that night was nothing?

I stood and began pacing. Her silence hadn’t made sense. "Are you gonna pretend it was nothing? Just a night that—"

I stopped mid-step, mid-sentence. Blunt pinched between my thumb and forefinger. "When I saw you walk in with him tonight... I could’ve killed the both of you. I wanted to."

Her eyes widened, fear flickering just for a second. Good. If she was afraid of me, she’d be easier to control.

But then— She sat up, sheet falling, exposing her pretty titties, there was defiance written all over her face.

"Mr. Vale. I don’t owe you nothing, let alone my life. Matter of fact, you owe me. You said once and my debt was paid. We did it way more than once."

I smirked and took a long drag. She had a mouth on her. I liked that.

Bang! Bang! The knock at the door came right on time.

"Stay." I pointed in her direction.

I left her in the bedroom, walked to the door naked. My guy stood there, not even blinking at my undress—he knew better. He just handed me the duffle.

I closed the door. He knew what else to do. I walked back in, tossed it on the bed.

"What’s this?" she asked.

"Pay your bills. Move out of this fucking trash neighborhood. Somewhere with security."

She opened the bag. The sheet dropped, exposingthe rest of her perfect fucking body. She was as soft as she looked. I licked my lips and watched her.

She sorted through the money, too fast to count it, then looked up at me, her head tilted like she was trying to figure out what my agenda was.

"You’re watching me like you expect me to give it back to you?" she asked, voice light but not playful.

I shrugged. "Most women put up a fake fight. Say it’s too much. Say they’re not that kind of girl."

She gave a dry little laugh. "I won’t."

"You understand what this means?"

"Yes," she said simply. Then, "What about your wife?"

I stepped forward, scooped the bag off the bed. It banged against the floor. Fifty thousand dollars had weight to it.

"Leave worrying about her to me. I’ll give you security, pleasure, and anything money can buy. In return, I expect peace, your loyalty, and your body when I want it."

I wrapped my hand around her throat, pressing her back into the mattress until the breath hitched in her lungs.

I climbed between her legs. She let out a sharp yelp when my teeth caught her bottom lip, and in that split second of surprise, I took her—my lips claimed hers, tongue sliding deep into her mouth, while my hips thrust forward, driving into her slick pussy.

I felt her heart trip under my palm, fast and terrified.

Mine did the same, syncing to hers and I thought, yeah, that’s right.

This is how this is supposed to feel. She would be the closest thing to heaven a man like me ever touched.

So I would find a way to make her mine. To keep her.

I’d break her open and crawl inside her.

My grip tightened on her throat as I sank in deep as I could go. She was so warm inside and soft outside.

The tension that’d lived in my spine for months snapped clean in half. This woman was my release, my sin, my fucking salvation. And for a moment, everything quieted—the noise, the rage, the whole damn world.

All the trouble she was going to bring... The paradise between her thighs made it worth it. Her scent. Her softness.

She moaned for me, a whine that sounded like her soul was slipping out through her mouth. Her walls gripped me like she didn’t want me to ever leave.

I wouldn't ever leave.

She was mine now—flesh, mind, and bone. And I wasn’t letting go.