Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
"So, there's nothing between you two anymore?" I found myself asking, damn curiosity getting the better of me.
“Nothing of importance. Selena understands her place. Or she will.”
“Why did it end?”
His gaze fixed on me, intense and unnerving as ever. "I used Selena at the Pleasure House because I couldn't tolerate my wife," he replied, his voice void of remorse. “I used her in every sense of the word. I enjoyed it to an extent, and then she was discarded in a generous manner.”
I struggled to process his words, something akin to disgust and that same slippery feeling from earlier churning in my gut. The thought of him selecting Selena, as if she were an object and because he was unhappily married, didn’t sit right with me. And now, here I was, another woman under his roof.
“I’m not sure what to say to that. I thought...or more like assumed you wouldn’t be unfaithful,” I ventured, instantly regretting my choice of words.
He tilted his head, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. I quickly tried to correct my blunder. “I mean, not to me specifically—I was talking about your wife. Or wives?”
His answering grin made him as pretty as the devil. Just as quickly as it appeared, it shifted into something more serious—darker. “I’ve told you, you’re all I want. There will never be another woman. You’re far more than enough. I’ve no reason to build you up just to watch you fall because I mishandled your heart.”
“How can you say that to me?" I asked quietly. "How can you even mean it when we've just met?"
“Lolita, if you're under the impression that I hadn't known you before now, then you haven't been listening to me at all," he said, his tone holding a hint of ice. "I didn't need to speak to you to learn who you were. I've watched you, observed you from a distance. I did everything and anything to know the tiniest details about you. You’ve always been more to me than a mere stranger, and now that you’re here with me, you’re beyond what I thought I wanted."
He almost made stalking sound romantic. If I were to be fully honest with myself, I’d admit that Alexander didn’t feel like a complete stranger. It was as if he had woven a part of himself into the tapestry of my life without my knowledge, waiting for the moment to claim what he believed was his.
“So long as I get down and worship you, right?”
“Lola.” He reached over and placed his hand over mine. “The only time I want to see you on your knees is in your adoration of me, be it with those pretty lips wrapped around my dick or as I fuck you from behind.”
My cheeks burned and I barely withheld a scoff.
I wasn’t a prude by any means, but I hadn’t ever been subjected to someone making vulgarity sound poetic. And Lola? No one called me that. I removed his hand from mine and reached for my glass of water.
“You’re really hung up on that, aren’t you? Showing your husband, the love of your life, how much you appreciate him?”
“I don’t recall getting married, and there isn’t a ring on my finger. Therefore, there’s no husband to appreciate.”
“You have a ring,” he replied without missing a beat. “You’ve got two. In fact, I’ve had your rings for years.”
“That can’t be true.” I shook my head, denying the plausibility.
“I won’t lie to you, deliciae. Especially about something as important as that.”
“But you…you were wearing a ring when we first met.” I eyed his hands, noting they were still absent of that particular piece of jewelry.
“That was more for me,” he acknowledged. “I wanted the world to know I was taken.”
I half snorted, covering my nose and mouth when he laughed. “Do you think a ring would stop women from wanting you? It definitely wouldn’t prevent a man from…”
“Fucking other women?” he finished with a smirk. “I’m well aware, but the difference between men like me and men like that is I have impeccable self-control and only desire one woman.”
“Right.”
“I mean it. I promise you here and now, I will kill any woman that dares to touch what is yours. And if it pleases you, I’ll make sure they die slowly.”
“I don’t want a promise like that!”
“Too late,” he quipped, slicing off another piece of steak.
Was he being sarcastic? It was hard to tell. He had a disturbing sense of humor and an equally disturbed personality.
“Are you being serious?”
“I wouldn’t make that kind of a promise and then take it back as a joke.”
I idly speared a piece of asparagus, finding myself at a loss for words. Alexander wasn’t a child unaware of the concepts of right and wrong. In fact, it seemed as though he relished the thought of taking a life. It horrified me. Every instinct screamed that this was wrong, that I had yet another reason to be repulsed by him.