Page 15 of Shane: His to Possess

Mia let out a low groan as he spilled himself inside her, triggering her climax. “I hate you, Shane O’Mara.”

“You fuck like it, baby.” He thrust shallowly to prolong her release.

She closed her eyes, unable to meet the smug, knowing gaze above her. As ecstasy washed over her, shame and repulsion joined in the mix, leaving her nauseated and shaking. When she shoved him away, he moved voluntarily, but didn’t leave the bed. Mia turned from him and burrowed under the blanket. His lips were like a splash of ice water on her shoulder when he pressed a tender kiss to the exposed flesh.

“If you keep hating me like that, I’ll die a happy man.”

“I’d like to kill you.” She meant it sincerely. If she had the means, she wouldn’t hesitate to end his life and free herself from this torture. “But I’ll settle for you going away.”

He laughed, sounding sated and relaxed. “Good night, baby.” He kissed her shoulder again before he climbed from the bed. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“I’m calling in sick. The idea of sitting across from you while I try to swallow anything makes me feel ill.”

He laughed, his suggestive tone husky when he replied, “Maybe we’ll test your swallowing skills tomorrow night, Mia.” The bed dipped as he rolled off and got up. “Join me for breakfast.” The words were a command, even though he still sounded pleased.

Sadistic bastard. She’d love to join him for breakfast and stab her grapefruit spoon through his eye. Refusing to respond was the only way she could keep from disintegrating to an illogical, screaming mess. Relief surged through her when she heard the door close a moment later, followed by a bewildering surge of disappointment. What the fuck was wrong with her?

5

After tossing and turning for hours, Mia had fallen into a deep sleep that remained dreamless. When the familiar nudge of a furry face against her cheek penetrated her consciousness, she was certain the last two days had been nothing but a nightmare. That hope dispelled as soon as she opened her eyes. The green eyes of her black cat, Clovis, were the only things that were as they should be. The rest of the room was nothing like the room she shared with one of her roommates at her apartment.

It hadn’t been a nightmare. Everything Shane had done to her—and she had done to him—had actually happened. He’d kidnapped her, turned her into a lustful animal, and he’d stolen her cat.

For some reason, the idea of him abducting her cat made her angriest of all. Mia suspected it was because being faced with the reality of Clovis perched on the bed Shane had installed her in was a harsh dose of reality. Slowly, she lifted her head, groaning when she recognized some of her possessions were scattered throughout the luxurious suite.

He was clearly trying to make her feel at home. Was it thoughtfulness or a less-than-subtle message that she was here to stay for however long he wanted her? Fuck.

In frustration, she pounded the pillow beside her, eliciting a startled yowl from Clovis. With an indignant glare, he hopped down and padded into the bathroom. A moment later, she heard the scratching of litter.

Her cat seemed to have adapted well enough, but Mia couldn’t say the same. The shame of the previous night pressed down on her like a physical weight as she tried to get out of bed. With a long sigh, she settled for curling onto her side and wallowing in misery.

The door opened a few minutes later, and she braced herself for a confrontation with the Latina maid or Shane. Neither prospect was delightful, but she couldn’t imagine anyone else entering her suite without knocking.

She was positive Shane would have forbidden his henchmen from coming into her room except under the direst of circumstances. He wouldn’t want any of them to see her undressed or in a compromising position, since he considered her his personal property. She didn’t know much about him yet—and didn’t have a desire to learn more—but she knew Shane O’Mara wasn’t a man who shared his toys, and he considered her the newest, shiniest toy in his collection. For now.

As soon as she saw Shane, Mia groaned and covered her head with the comforter. Even the enticing aroma of bacon couldn’t make her lift the covers to face him just yet. She was vaguely aware of him tugging at the blanket but was determined to ignore him.

Her resolve weakened when an unexpected prick of a needle in her arm made her yelp. She jumped up, clutching the blanket to her chest. “What the hell was that?” Had he drugged her? For what purpose? Her stomach dipped as she imagined several scenarios, and none of them were pleasant. The most likely seemed to be he planned to move her to another location. More remote and even less likely to offer escape? Nausea twisted in her stomach at the thought.

He rubbed the spot he’d injected before capping the syringe. “Calm down, Mia. It’s Depo-Provera.”

She frowned. “That sounds familiar.”

“The birth control shot.”

Mia glared at him. “How dare you.”

He arched a brow. “You want to have a baby?”

“No, of course not, especially not with you.” She scowled. “For all you know, I’m already taking it or on the pill. You could have given me cancer with the extra hormones.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re adorable when you’re looking for a reason to complain.” Shane held up his finger. “There weren’t any pills in your purse and no reminders in your phone for inserting a new ring, getting a shot, or anything else remotely birth control-related.” He lifted another finger. “The handy app on your phone indicated today was the last day to take the shot, since it’s within five days of your period starting. Glad that’s over, by the way.”

Her mouth gaped open. “You went through my purse and my phone?” A different sense of violation swept through her. “You’re disgusting.”

Holding up a third finger, he continued as though she hadn’t spoken, “Also, you were a virgin, which strongly indicates you had no need for birth control. Giving you the shot was a safe bet.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You could have just told me what it was.”