Page 12 of Hers to Command

I raise an eyebrow. Looks like she’s been coming up with the same rationale as me. “And you?”

Her chin lifts a fraction. “I get my freedom. It’s mutually beneficial.”

I stand up slowly, moving toward her. She doesn’t back away. She never fucking does. But I can see the tension in her body, the way she holds herself as if bracing for something. I take another step closer until we’re only inches apart.

“Mutually beneficial,” I repeat, my voice dropping lower. “And what about us? You’re not naïve, Anya. You know a marriage isn’t just business. What else does this deal entail?” I shouldn’tfucking push this now, but I can’t help myself. Being near her has my mind reeling with all the ways and places I want to fuck her.

She doesn’t flinch, but her breathing shifts ever so slightly. “Itisjust business. Or at least, in our case, it will be.”

I can’t help but grin. “Right. So you want me to marry you but keep my hands off?” I shake my head, chuckling. “You’re something else, Anya.” My hand reaches out, and I brush my fingers against her arm, testing the waters. The tension between us snaps tight like a wire.

She doesn’t pull away, but her eyes harden. “This is a business arrangement,” she says, her voice like steel, even though I can see the fire burning beneath the surface. “I’m not for sale.”

“Sure.” I drop my hand, though the electricity from the brief touch lingers. “A business arrangement where we’re both getting exactly what we need.”

She nods once. “Exactly.”

I can’t resist pushing her just a little further. Call me the devil. “And what happens when the lines blur? Because I might not be able to buy you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you. And I usually get what I want.”

Her eyes flash, but she keeps her voice steady. “Is that so?” This time, she’s the one stepping closer.

“I don’t do halfway measures. If we do this, you’re mine. All the way.”

She meets my gaze, unflinching. “Fine. But then the same goes both ways. And no other women on the side. If you want to stake a claim, so will I.”

Her response is such a one-eighty that I almost blink at her. Luckily, I have enough boardroom experience not to do that, even as my dick is pressing for primary control of my brain function. The woman is full of surprises, and I’m fucking eager to dive a bit deeper into things. Literally.

“Then it’s settled,” I say, my tone final and not betraying my thoughts, which mirror that of a horny teenager who can’t believe his luck, which is not at all what I ought to be feeling at the prospect of getting married.

“Good,” she says, sounding like she wants to get the last word in during a disagreement in the schoolyard. It’s fucking hilarious.

“Normally I’d say we shake on it, but under the circumstances...” My hand moves to cup her nape. “...I think we can come up with something better.” My voice drops, the innuendo clear as I hold her gaze, daring her to back down. Because we’re not kids, and the things I want to do now are very much adult things.

Anya doesn’t move, but her chest rises, just a little quicker than before. Her eyes darken and I fucking love the way the air feels, charged with tension.

She smirks. A small, controlled flash of a smile. “And what exactly do you have in mind, Riccardo?”

Fuck. I like the way she says my name.

I move closer, just enough to brush my chest against hers, feeling the swell of her tits through my dress shirt. My hand lifts, fingers grazing her cheek, then her jaw, before I tilt her chin up just slightly. Her lips part, but she doesn’t pull away.

Just like last time, she looks at me, as if in challenge.

My cock gives a needy jerk.

“You already know,” I murmur, my thumb brushing across her lower lip.

For a second, I think she’ll push me away. I’m ready for it—the slap, maybe even the knee to my groin. But Anya leans into me, and that’s all the invitation I need.

No. You can’t buy a woman like Anya. But fuck me if I don’t get to taste her, anyway.

I close the distance, pressing my mouth against hers, and she responds immediately. Her lips part under mine, and I enter her with my tongue before pulling back and nipping at her lower lip, sucking it into my mouth and claiming it with my teeth. She tastes like fire and danger, and I want more—hell, I need more.

This woman is addictive. I knew that much already, but touching her is a whole different level of high.

My hands slide down her body, gripping her waist, pulling her against me as I deepen the kiss. Her nails dig into my shoulders like she wants to tear me apart even as she pulls me closer.

There’s no hesitation, no playing coy. It’s raw. Primal.

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