Page 65 of Savage Hearts

My perfect little doll.

“Last I checked, you belong to me. That hasn’t changed. I think I’ll hold onto you for a little while,” I said, wanting the fire back. I was the kind of man born in the destruction of fire, how badly I wanted hers to ruin me.

She shifted to a sitting position on the bed and scowled at me.

There it was.

That fucking fire.

I gazed at the black shirt she wore to bed. Black suited her.

“Are you always such an asshole so early in the morning?” she asked.

I laughed. “Pretty sure you called me an asshole two nights ago.”

“So you’re an asshole all the time. Got it.”

“Yes, but especially during the afternoon.”

Her eyes widened as she caught on to my words. Reaching over, she grabbed my wrist and checked the time.

“I slept in?”

She seemed surprised at that.

“Oh, God. I never sleep in!”

I stilled her when she made a move to get off the bed. “Relax. It’s not like there is somewhere pressing you need to be.”

A weird look crossed her face. Was she thinking about her own predicament right now? And when did I start to feel so uncomfortable in the face of it?

Not uncomfortable enough to let go, though.

I shifted slightly. “You must be hungry. Come on. It wouldn’t do for me to neglect my property. Let me feed you.”

“I'm not your property,” she said menacingly.

I grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her toward me. She landed softly against my chest before righting herself.

I wrapped my arms around her waist, keeping her to me—where she fucking belonged. The sooner she learned that, the easier her life would be.

“That’s where you're wrong. Remember this. I own you, little monster. Now and for-fucking-ever.”

She seemed shocked at my heated declaration.

I gathered her in my arms and stood without saying anything more.

I was just as shocked at my statement, but I didn’t want to psychoanalyze myself—especially now, under those curious eyes of hers.

She wrapped her arms around my neck but smartly kept her mouth shut. Her unnerving eyes roamed over every feature of my face, as if she was searching for a chink in my armor.

She would learn soon enough that there was none, although I could admit quietly to myself that her stare affected me more than it should.

It went through my skin.

I brought her to her room and dropped her off in front of the walk-in closet, full of all the clothes I’d bought for her. A strum of satisfaction moved through me, and I realized I loved providing for her. Seeing her in clothes I had picked out and bought with my money. Fuck, it had never felt this good to spoil someone else before.

My hands moved over all the pretty dresses, the fabrics soft and light.