blurt out, desperate to somehow let him know how much I regret everything. “I should have listened to you. You were right, I was wrong. I thought I could handle it, thought I could handle him, and put myself in danger. You must have been worried, and I—”
“Worried?” he snarls, interrupting me. Leaping off the couch, he begins to pace. “Sabina, you are the most beautiful, fascinating, sensual, intelligent, infuriating woman I’ve ever met. From the first moment I saw you, I wanted you. To spend time with you, to get to know you, to protect you. You do things to me I can’t even…” He trails off and shoves a hand through his cropped black hair. “I tried to fight it because of what I am, because of how I am. And because I was afraid. It’s been a fucking century since I let myself love anyone because I knew I would not be able to handle going through that kind of grief and loss again. And then, when you sent me that text, when I got into the clubhouse and saw that fucker sprawled on top of you, I realized…”
He stops and I realize I’m leaning forward, clutching my still full glass, tears blurring my vision. “You realized what?” I whisper, my voice breaking.
“That it was too late,” he says, resignation in his tone. His shoulders are slumped in defeat. “I love you.”
I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. I get to my feet, realizing how watery my knees are as soon as they take my weight. Setting the glass down carefully on the coffee table, I approach him slowly. Once I’m within reaching distance, he turns and looks at me. His gorgeous eyes are sad, and guilt crushes me for causing him this kind of turmoil.
“I love you too,” I whisper. “I promise, if you give me another chance, I’ll never put you through that kind of worry again. I’ll always obey you when you warn me about situations. I know it’s crazy, because we’ve only known each other such a short time, but I can no longer imagine my life without you in it.”
Maximus reaches out, grips the nape of my neck, and yanks me to him, crushing his lips to mine in a breathtaking, torrid kiss. Instantly, every nerve ending in my body lights up but even as I try to relax into it, I realize I can’t.
After a few moments, he pulls away. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, blinking back the tears. “I feel so guilty,” I whisper. “I should have listened to you, Sir. I don’t feel like I deserve pleasure right now.”
A little frown appears in the center of his forehead as he considers my words. “Do you feel like you deserve to be punished?”
As he says it, I realize how much I do. How badly I want to atone for putting him through what I did. “Yes. But this isn’t about me. Do you want to punish me?”
“I’m not gonna lie, pet, even though I’ve calmed down, I’m furious with you. If I do punish you, it will not be the least bit pleasurable. But afterwards, I’d like to wipe the slate clean and start again. No more secrets. No more withholding things.” He caresses my cheek and I realize I’m trembling. “I want to know everything about you. Why you feel such a need to be strong and independent. Why you fight against the idea of letting a man—me—protect you. And yes, as long as you’re mine, I need you to obey me in all rules I set to keep you safe. No exceptions. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He leans down to kiss me again and this time I kiss him back with abandon, relishing the feel of his tongue against mine, the way he runs his fingers through my hair and tilts my face back so he can take it deeper. He tastes faintly of beer, and his delicious aftershave, as always, makes me weak at the knees.
After a long, long time, by which point I’m so aroused I’m barely able to stand upright, he pulls away. His expression is serious, his eyes searching. “I’m going to take you home now,” he says.
“Wait, what?” I’m stunned.
“It’s late, and you have work in the morning. We’ll go pick up your car, and then I want you to go directly home, have something to eat if you can, and go straight to bed.”
“I thought—”
“Don’t interrupt me, pet.”
I drop my gaze. His tone