That was all for him. Perhaps he’d made a mistake by not taking a submissive. Only now did he feel how hollow his other relationships had been. There had been a power exchange, but it hadn’t lasted more than a night. He would sign a contract with this woman. She would be his. His to fuck and play with. His to take care of. His responsibility.

He was surprised those last two words didn’t scare him in the least. The real revelation was how much he craved that responsibility when it came to her. Now that he understood who she was, where she’d come from, he intended to make these weeks with her special so she would know what she deserved from a man, to ensure she wouldn’t accept less ever again.

She was staring at him, her eyes boldly on his cock. He stroked himself, taking a moment so he didn’t simply fall on her and fuck her senseless. He wanted this to last, to make this first night something she wouldn’t forget.

Or maybe he wanted to make it so good she wouldn’t kick him out in the morning when she realized he had no intentions of keeping this relationship to the bedroom. How would she handle it when she found out exactly how in control he meant to be with her?

“Tu es la plus belle des femmes,” he said slowly as he moved on to the bed with her.

“The French stuff gets to me, Sir.”

Yes, he could tell. He’d always used the fact that his mom-mom considered English a barbaric language in his favor when it came to the fairer sex.

“It means you’re the most beautiful woman,” he translated as he moved between her legs, his palms on her knees. “It sounds better in French.”

She reached up to him, as though asking for his weight. “And the other? That thing you call me. Ma crevitte?”

“Ma crevette,” he corrected with a grin. He could feel the heat of her core against his cock. So much hotter than before. There was nothing between them, though there would be. He’d fished a condom out before he’d tossed his jeans aside. He leaned over, trapping her. “It’s a term of endearment. It means my little shrimp.”

“What?” Her eyes widened and she tried to push him off.

But that was why he’d trapped her. He couldn’t help but chuckle at her horror. He easily kept her where he wanted her and enjoyed how her struggles brought her pussy right where he needed it to be. “My pretty little shrimp. Well, you told me not to call you ma chère.”

She couldn’t quite keep the smile off her face. “That’s a terrible nickname. Shrimp?”