Page 91 of His Twisted Game
Those words sunk into me. How could I expect her to feel any differently? Her distrust of me was well-deserved.
She reached for my hand, a warmth surging through my arm, straight to my heart.
“But I want to try,” she said. “We were both being stubborn.” She tilted her head. “Maybe one of us was more stubborn than the other, but sometimes we don’t know what we’re doing until we’re already halfway through it. Trust me, I know.”
Her copper eyes sparkled with light, and I knew that this was where I was meant to be. Gazing into her eyes, knowing I could feel something other than the desire for power.
The desire to protect and cherish her.
“You know I love you, right?” she said, like I had said to her by the lake. “I mean, I just killed for you, so I can’t really deny it anymore.”
I grinned, scooping her into my arms, kissing her harder than I ever had.
“I love you so damned much,” I said. Then I carried her across the farm, to my car, leading her back to my penthouse.
***
A few days later, when our swelling had gone down and Fiona was up to it, I took her to the library. It was still closed. After what had happened, reopening it was the last thing on my mind. And I wanted Fiona to have that honor.
“You’re putting me to work?” she asked. “Already?”
“Who the hell is going to run this place?” I asked. “You killed our potential manager.” She forced a smile but clearly did not approve of my joke. “Check your desk.”
She picked up the dice, rolling them around in her palm. “Another game?”
“If it’s even, you win. And if it’s odd, I lose.”
She wrinkled her brows. “That means I win either way.”
“Check your drawer.”
Her hand clenched around a manila file. As she scanned it, her cheeks reddened.
“What is this?”
I came closer, then spun her around until she was nestled in my arms. Then I placed the document on the desk in front of her, arranging her body until each hand was on either side of the file.
“Here’s another game. One you’re familiar with.” I breathed onto her neck. “Read it aloud. Sign it. And when you’re done, I’m going to make you come so hard you’re always reminded who owns your pussy every time you see this desk.”
She sucked in a breath, then began to read: “This purchase agreement, for the real property described below between Sawyer Feldman and Fiona Ross as described in Section—” She turned to me, her eyes wide. “The library?”
I put my mouth on her neck, licking her sensitive skin, goosebumps emerging all over her. My hands wandered, squeezing her breasts through her button-up shirt. I pointed to the purchase price of one dollar.
“Can you handle that?” I asked, skimming my hands down to her pussy lips. She still wasn’t wearing any bra or panties. My dick throbbed for her.
She did it for me.
“Sawyer,” she whispered.
“I’m not going to do anything until you sign it,” I said. “Then I’m going to fuck my librarian.”
She quickly put her pen down to the signature and scribbled her name. I pressed my lips to hers, and she quaked underneath me. She was determined. Ambitious. An intelligent mind with one hell of a heart. And I didn’t deserve her, but somehow, she was giving me a chance. And there was nothing in this world that I wouldn’t do to make sure she was mine forever.
My brilliant librarian. My angelic plaything. My good girl.
I smacked her ass over the pants. She yelped, a giggle escaping her throat, and I growled. I loved that sound. I pulled down her pants, then smacked her ass until her cheeks were a beautiful bright red, sprinkled with purple dots, and I rubbed her warm skin.
“Please, Sawyer,” she whispered. “Please fuck me.”
