“No.” She holds out her hands and smirks. “Carry me.”
A surge of warmth spreads across my chest, cracking the ice around my heart. I’ve never met a woman who so perfectly combines so many traits I desire. Innocence, obedience, open-mindedness, and spontaneity. She even has a keen interest in business and finance.
If I had met Phoenix during my undergraduate days, I would never have needed anyone else.
I scoop her up in my arms and grumble into her hair. “Enjoy being treated like a princess while it lasts.”
She places a palm over my heart, melting away the frost. As I carry her down the hallway, she mumbles, “You’re just like the charming prince of Wonderland.”
“Are you mixing your fairytales now?” I ask with a smirk.
“I wish it was you who took my virginity,” she says with a wistful sigh.
Flames of jealousy coil around my gut. I breathe harder, faster, silently urging her to continue. My jaw tightens so hard that my face aches.
Her sexual history is none of my business, so why do I feel a sudden urge to kill?
Every submissive I’ve played with has been a professional with her own varied history along with a roster of clients. I’ve never felt an inkling of possessiveness toward those subs.
But Phoenix isn’t a professional—she’s mine.
Mine.
My teeth clench. My vision fills with dark spots. I continue on wooden legs into the master bedroom.
Moonlight shines in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing its white interior in silver. Phoenix glances from side to side and gasps. From her point of view, the crystal chandeliers, ivory furniture, and silver antiques must look magical.
I could be the charming prince Phoenix desires, the one who guides her through the wonders of her sexuality.
I could mold her to my desires and make her my perfect match.
But that won’t happen if I frighten her away with my murderous instincts.
The hand over my heart snakes up my chest, over my collar. Her fingers ignite the flesh on my neck with bolts of electricity that go straight to my cock.
I continue toward the king-sized bed and ignore the ache.
“You wouldn’t just take what you wanted and fucked off,” she murmurs.
My nostrils flare.
Say nothing.
Demand nothing.
Do. Not. Ask.
As I lay Phoenix on the mattress, her tawny brown spills across the pristine white quilt. The moon accentuates her loose waves and amber highlights.
My heart clenches.
Now, she looks like a fallen angel.
My veneer of calm shatters, letting through my protective instincts. I snarl, “Who do I need to castrate?”
She huffs a laugh. “Would you really cut off his dick?”
“And watch him bleed to death.”