The limousine sped through the rain-slicked streets of the city, but inside, the air was suffocatingly hot. I was pressed into the corner of the leather seat, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard it hurt.
Kai Fox sat across from me. He had unbuttoned his waistcoat, and his white dress shirt was stretched tight across his muscular chest. He didn't look like a CEO anymore; he looked like a predator who had finally cornered his prey.
"Why me?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "There were dozens of women at that auction. Why pay three hundred million for me?"
Kai didn't answer immediately. He reached for a crystal decanter and poured himself a glass of amber bourbon. He took a slow sip, his dark eyes never leaving mine. Then, he set the glass down and moved.
In one fluid motion, he was across the seat, pinning me against the door. His massive body was a wall of heat. He grabbed both of my wrists and shoved them above my head, his grip like iron shackles.
"Because Marcus told me you were pure," Kai growled, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that sent a traitorous shiver down my spine. "He told me that despite three years of dating, he never touched you. He kept you like a trophy on a shelf, waiting for the right price."
My breath hitched. It was true. Marcus had always said he wanted to wait until our wedding night. I thought it was respect. Now I knew it was market value.
"He lied to me," I choked out, tears blurring my vision.
"He did," Kai murmured, leaning down until his lips were inches from mine. "But I don't believe in waiting. I'm a man who takes what he pays for. And I paid for the highest quality."
His free hand traveled slowly from my waist, sliding up the silk of my dress until his palm rested over my heart. He could feel it racing. A dark, cruel smirk touched his lips.
"You're terrified," he whispered, his thumb grazing the underside of my breast. "But your body is reacting to me, Amara. I can feel your skin burning. I can see your breath hitching."
"I hate you," I hissed, even as my core began to ache with a heat I didn't understand.
"Hate is just passion with a different name," Kai countered.
He suddenly grabbed the collar of my dress and ripped. The sound of silk tearing filled the small space. My chest was exposed to the cool air of the AC and the hot, hungry gaze of the man who now owned me. I gasped, trying to cover myself, but he held my wrists tighter.
"Marcus was a boy who played with toys," Kai growled, his face dipping into the crook of my neck. He didn't kiss me; he bit the sensitive skin there, marking me as his. "I am a man who breaks them. Tonight, I'm going to erase every memory of his touch from your mind. I'm going to make you scream my name until you forget you ever belonged to anyone else."
He lowered his hand, his fingers tracing the lace of my silk panties, his touch possessive and demanding. I let out a soft whimper—not of fear, but of a desperate, twisted need that I couldn't control.
"Beg me," Kai commanded, his eyes burning with a dark, obsessive fire. "Beg me to show you what a real man feels like."
I bit my lip, shaking my head. "Never."
Kai's grip tightened, and he leaned in, his lips finally crashing against mine in a kiss that tasted of bourbon, dominance, and a promise of a very long, very explicit night.
"We'll see, Little Fox," he murmured against my mouth. "The night is young, and you have so much to learn about submission.