“I like seeing my mark on your neck, I might keep it there so everyone else can see it too. Once I’ve taken your virginity, I’ll finger your pussy while I bite down on my mark until you come, then I’ll do it over and over so often that the moment my teeth scrape across that spot, your body will spontaneously orgasm.”

His voice is barely above a whisper, so no one but me and him can hear what he’s saying to me. I shudder in response, revulsion with the tiniest hint of desire. Nothing he’s said or done should appeal to me and mostly it doesn’t. Except there’s a little tiny part of me, a part so small I might have gone my whole life without ever knowing it exists that preens at his words.

I might only be sixteen years old, but I understand feminism. I was raised by a badass, albeit slightly erratic single mother. I’m more than aware that I don’t need a man and that I never want to be in a position where I’m beholden to one.

If I ever have a long-term partner or get married, I want my relationship to be equal and balanced by mutual respect and love. But there’s also that hidden fantasy perpetuated by fairy tales and Fifty Shades of Grey that makes me crave a man to sweep me off my feet, to look after me and save me from anything, from puddles to big bad monsters. That’s the part of me that’s a little excited by his dominance and the way he’s managing me.

I’m grateful for the distraction when a server arrives at our table, placing a plate of food at each place setting and two in front of me and Sebastian. “I didn’t order anything?”

“I ordered for you,” Sebastian says.

Scowling, I turn to glare at him, all my resolve to just behave and get away from him as soon as possible gone in an instant. “I told you I wasn’t hungry.”

“And I told you, you need to eat, you don’t take good enough care of yourself.”

“That’s—”

Sebastian shuts me up by grabbing my chin, turning me toward him and slamming his lips to mine. His tongue forces its way into my mouth while his fingers tease at the underside of my breast. I wish I could say I don’t respond, that I sit there like a wet fish refusing to participate, but that would be a lie and by the time he leans back, separating us, I’m panting and squeezing my thighs together to quell the ache that’s formed between my thighs.

“Eat,” he orders, pressing a soft peck against my lips and dragging the plate containing a delicious-looking deli sandwich toward me.

8

SEBASTIAN

She’s perfect. Even when she’s fighting me, she’s still everything I’ve ever wanted. She’s feisty and high strung, she’s a challenge that I can’t wait to conquer. She thinks she won a battle with me at lunch, but what she doesn’t realize is that I don’t mind negotiating with her to ensure she does as I ask. Letting her ride home with her friend was an easy concession, especially because I plan to follow her home, wait for her to change and then bring her back to my place again anyway. Not that I told her that, I gave her something she wanted and I got what I wanted. Everyone’s happy.