Page 111 of Twisted Proposal

Today, the way he kissed me, kissed my body, wasn’t exactly gentle.

Gentle wasn’t really something Artem was capable of.

It felt more like he was worshiping me, not using me.

Every single touch seemed to be charged with meaning, with reverence.

Like he was trying to show me the things he couldn't say.

Or maybe he was trying to show me the things that he knew I would never believe if he only told me.

When I left, I didn't believe I was in danger. I thought it was a lie, a ploy to keep me complacent while he played his little games. It could have easily been staged, some kind of manipulation to make me behave. It wasn't until I saw the video...the men in the woods…that I believed him.

I couldn't be sure, but the way he held me in that bed, the soft light dancing over his skin as he fell asleep holding me was...comforting. I could blame the hormones and the pheromones all I wanted, but it didn't change the facts.

Artem was tearing down the walls I had spent years building.

He wasn't taking them down brick by brick.

He was crumbling the very foundations.

That made him dangerous.

When I woke up, the sun had set. The room was completely dark except for a single candle on the bedside table. Under it was a note.

When you wake up, there is a dress for you in the closet. Meet me for dinner?-A

There was a question mark.

He wasn't demanding...he was asking.

Did that mean I could refuse? At what cost?

I took my time getting ready. A long, hot shower felt amazing, though there was the strangest pang of regret as I washed his scent from my skin. The water sluiced away the evidence of our lovemaking—was that what it was now?—leaving me clean but somehow empty.

Once I dried off, I dressed in the elegant and sophisticated black dress he'd left for me. It had a modest neckline but hugged my curves, and a low back that I felt sexy in. It was perfect and fit me like it was custom designed for my body, but then everything Artem had given me fit like that.

I kept my makeup simple; a smoky brown eye, and my fingers grazed the usual mauve nude I wore most days. It was the perfect lip for the look, classic, demure, and sophisticated. It spoke of a woman who was confident, poised, and understated.

Then I remembered how Artem looked when he watched me put on a red lip.

More importantly, I remembered how I felt wearing the aptly named shade. Unbreakable.

Artem had something up his sleeve and I needed to stay strong, especially when so much of me wanted to give in to him. It was far too tempting to surrender to his touch, his demands, and be the kept pet he wanted.

Stepping out of the bedroom was surreal. All the lights were off, the hallway illuminated by the soft glow of candles. I followed the path to a formal dining room to find Artem leaning against a wall scrolling on his phone. I paused a moment to take him in before he noticed me.

It wasn't fair. A man that controlling shouldn't be so handsome.

Strong features. Broad shoulders that tapered down to his trim waist. I knew every single inch of his body was wrapped in hard muscle and ink.

He was temptation and desire personified.

I just hated how controlling he was.

Yet that same power was also what drew me to him.

Artem wasn't weak in any sense of the word.