Page 72 of Stolen Empire
My face burns.
"That was part of the deal. Something I had to do to purchase my freedom."
"Was it?"
He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
"Or did you want it as much as I did?"
I slap his hand away.
"Don’t touch me."
"You don’t mean that."
He leans closer, his body crowding mine.
"You want me to touch you. You want me to take control. You want me to make the decision so you don’t have to admit you want this."
"I don’t want this," I hiss, but my pulse is racing.
God, I want this, and I want him to make me say it.
I just won’t admit that to him.
"Liar."
We stand there, locked in place, the air between us crackling with tension.
My heart is pounding so hard, I can hear it in my ears.
"You're scared," he finally says, "of what it means if you admit you want to stay. Scared of what it means if you admit you want me."
"I don’t want to stay," I say, my voice shaking.
"I want my freedom. That's all I have ever wanted."
"Then what happens after?" he asks.
"You walk out that door and go back to stealing and conning your way through life? You go back to hostels and one-night encounters and never staying anywhere long enough to be seen?"
I swallow hard.
"That is my life."
"It doesn’t have to be."
He cups my jaw, tilting my head up so I have no choice but to meet his eyes.
"You could stay. You could work for me. You could belong here."
"I don’t belong anywhere."
"You belong to me."
His thumb brushes over my cheek.
"You've belonged to me since the moment I caught you in that stall. And if you break my rules again, if you take risks without my permission, I may not let you go."
