“Ride me and I might consider.” His voice dropped to a dangerously low whisper, the kind that crawled under your skin and nestled there, cold and suffocating. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear as he spoke. The hands on my body were invasively rough.
“Now let’s talk about my rules, alright?” he murmured, his tone soft yet laced with menace.
I could only nod, my breath caught in my throat, every instinct screaming at me to run, but my legs refused to move. Fear rooted me in place, binding me tighter to his will.
“I have some business to take care of. Till then, you’ll stay here, in this suite. Try to run,” he continued, “and I’ll hunt you down.”
His grip on my waist tightened, and I winced.
“Let any man near you,” he whispered, his lips brushed against my ear, “and I
