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And we can do it here, or in your bedroom, or your bathroom, I don’t care—I just want you. Now.

Her lips part as her breath hitches and her breathing quickens.

Oh, that sound is beguiling.

You want me, too, baby.

I know it.

I feel it.

She backs up against the kitchen island with nowhere else to go.

“I’m still mad at you,” she asserts, but her voice is tremulous and soft. She doesn’t sound mad at all. Wanton, maybe. But not mad.

“I know,” I agree, and give her a wolfish grin. Her eyes widen.

Oh, baby.

“Would you like something to eat?” she whispers.

I nod slowly. “Yes. You.”

Standing over her, staring into eyes that are dark with desire, I feel the heat from her body. It’s searing me. I want to be wrapped in it. Bathed in it. I want to make her scream and moan and call out my name. I want to reclaim her and wipe the memory of our breakup from her mind.

I want to make her mine. Again.

But first things first.

“Have you eaten today?” I need to know.

“I had a sandwich at lunch.”

will do. “You need to

really not hungry

are you hungry for, Miss Steele?” I lower my face so that our

think you

when I said she’d have to beg. She has to tell me what she wants. She has to vocalize her

me to

She inhales sharply. “Yes.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

be a bit more specific than that. I told you I’m not going to touch you until you beg me and tell

“Please,” she pleads.

to make this easy on

“Touch me.”

“Where, baby?”

She reaches for me.

No.

and grips my throat with its claws. Instinctively, I step back, my heart pounding as

touch me.

Fuck.

“No. No,” I mutter.

why I

“What?” She’s confused.

this. I told her yesterday. I have to

know what she intends. The darkness stabs at my insides, so I take another step back and hold up my hands to

I beseech her, “Look. Ana…” But I can’t find the

touch me.

Damn, it’s frustrating.

should find a

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