Page 152 of The Elusive Billionaire

“Unfortunately, you’ll never be normal, Monroe. You can’t be.” I stiffen in his arms, then lift my legs back up, ready to curl into a ball again. “You can’t be normal because you were createdfor the extraordinary. You were made to stand out, to shine, so never settle for normal. You’re too valuable for that.”

My insides quiver, like the first crack of thunder before a storm. Emotions are building, ready to strike and cause damage.

No one has ever thought me valuable before—possibly not even myself.

It might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, and I don’t know how to release the overwhelming sensations that are boiling my insides.

Strong arms band around my chest, holding me tightly. His fingertips are cold, but his palms are warm.

My hands fall to his forearm, gently stroking his skin beneath my fingers.

“Thank you, Greyson. For seeing me. For…everything.”

His cock thickens at my back, and a spike of arousal attempts to pull me from exhaustion.

Water sloshes in the tub as he attempts to put space between his cock and my ass, but I push back against him.

“You never thank someone for caring—that’s not how relationships work.” His words are stunted. I’m pushing him when he’s trying so damn hard to be a gentleman.

I arch my spine, pressing my backside into his groin. The need for him to take control of my body is as essential as air. I can’t explain it—except I’m craving the freedom submission brings me.

I’m so tired of fighting for everything I have. Tired of treating every decision as if one wrong move will be the one to sink me. Tired of being alone.

“You’re an expert on relationships now?” I meant to tease, but my words are so breathy, it’s possible I’m only torturing myself.

“Not on all relationships.” His hand grips my hip beneath the water, holding me still. “Only on the one that matters.”

“What one matters?” I attempt to roll my hips, but he’s already taken control of them. A long, pained sigh escapes my lips as I melt into his touch.

“This one.” His husky tone has my pussy clenching for release. “What are you doing, Sav? Tonight is about taking care of you. It’s not about sex.”

“Please.” I whimper—it’s a sound that has never left my mouth before, and he tenses beneath me.

“Please what?” His words are strained. The hot air he expels lands against the sensitive skin of my neck, and I shiver.

“Please,” I say again. “I need you to…”

“Words, sweetheart. Use them. Someone hurt you today, and I’m not going to take advantage of that.”

My head thrashes on his chest. He’s going to make me say it—he needs me to say it.

He’s unlike any man I’ve ever been with.

“You’re not taking advantage,” I whisper. “I—I need you to touch me. To help me forget. I just want to feel, Grey, without guilt, sadness, and regrets tethering me to a life I had no control over.”

“Fuck, Monroe.” His arm bands tighter around my shoulders, and I feel his forehead drop to the back of my skull. “You need to sleep—I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“That’s just it.” I pull on his arm, and he drops it to the side of the tub, allowing me to move forward, then turn to face him. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. “I think, all this time, you’ve been the right thing…for me…and I’ve been too stubborn to admit it.”

There’s sadness in his eyes, but he smiles, and I realize maybe it isn’t sadness at all but hard-earned acceptance.

He reaches for my ankles, then pulls them to either side of his waist, meeting me in the middle of the tub before wrapping them around his back.

We’re nose to nose, chest to chest, and he cups my face on both sides.

“I love you, Savannah Monroe.”

Oh, God. I’m having a heart attack.