"You don't realize it." His voice is soft. "How much you could sway me if you wanted. How easy it would be for you to have the upper hand." He half-smiles. "You're not a good negotiator. I could teach you."
"Now that I've signed your contract?"
His laugh is soft. "Are you unsatisfied with the terms?"
The no love thing, yes. But that's not what he means. That's not something we can negotiate.
He'll fall in love with me or he won't.
No amount of money can change that.
"I would have agreed for a lot less," I say. "Maybe just the mortgage and Sienna's scholarship."
"I would have offered more."
"So we both lose?"
"We both win. It's fair."
"Then why should I take negotiation tips from you?"
He chuckles. "I'm not smart when it comes to you."
"Thinking with your cock?"
"Yes."
"Oh." My blush deepens.
"It's not usually an issue. At work. Even if I'm dealing with a gorgeous woman, or a woman I want to fuck."
"New York is full of gorgeous women."
"But there's only one Indigo Simms."
Do I mean that much to him? It's hard to believe.
But he did offer me ten million dollars.
And we do understand each other. We do have something special. Even if it isn't love.
He continues, "Negotiation is an exchange of power. It's never clear to all sides exactly how much anyone has. Even if everything is in the open. Say, I'm investing in a company. One with a set valuation. Other investors bought in at six million dollars. I have the opportunity to buy twenty percent. It should be easy math. Twenty percent of six million. One point two."
"You buy at one point two or you don't?"
"In theory. But what if the owner needs the money now? What if she can't risk a no? What if the company is the only one that will do?"
He's talking about us.
"No one can say what that's worth," he says. "No one can say who has the upper hand. And there's always the human factor. Something a person cares about more than money."
"And you exploit it?"
He dips the corner of his toast in egg yolk. No hot sauce. Just the perfect square half piece of toast and yolk. "I use leverage to get what I want."
"And us… this is an exchange of power."
"Yes. But I don't take it. You give it to me."
My breath catches in my throat.
"You're waiting. Because I asked you to wait. Because I say when I'll fuck you." His posture shifts. Into that other Ty. The ruthless man who gets exactly what he wants. "And you're waiting because you want to wait. You want to be under my control."
"Yes."
"Now?" His voice isn't a dare. It's an honest question.
And it's up to me to answer.
Am I ready to be completely under his control?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Indigo
"Yes," I breathe. "Now. Please."
He watches me for a moment, then he nods with understanding.
His posture shifts.
That other Ty.
The one who revels in every ounce of his power.
His voice drops. "Come here."
I move around the table.
He turns his chair so he's facing me. Then he beckons me with his first two fingers.
I move closer.
His hands go to my hips. He pulls me into his lap, so I'm straddling him, my legs around his thighs, my feet on the floor.
He brings one hand to my cheek. Pulls me into a slow, deep kiss.
Soft for a moment.
Then hard.
His hand trails down my neck. Slowly, he traces the neckline of my pajama top.
Slowly, he undoes the first button.
The second.
The third.
The last.
The sides fall open, revealing my breasts, leaving me topless in his lap.
He kisses his way down my neck. Over my chest.
His lips brush my nipple. Softly.
Then harder.
The scrape of his teeth.
"Fuck." I bring my hand to his chest. Tug at his shirt.
He bites me again. Harder. Hard enough it hurts.
"Ty—"
Again.
I hook my arm around his neck. Let my nails find his skin.
Again.
My hips rock against his. He's hard beneath me. So close to where he's supposed to be. Only this stupid fabric between us.
Again.
"Fuck."
Then harder—
Harder—
He's pushing me.
Daring me.
Daring me to ask him to stop.
But I don't want him to stop. I want that sweet, perfect pain.
He scrapes his teeth against me again.
And again.
Harder.
Harder.
The brush of his teeth sends a pang to my sex. The perfect mix of pain and pleasure. It hurts. But that only winds me tighter.
It only makes me achier.
He winds me tighter again and again.
Harder and harder.
Until it is too much.
I close my eyes. Try to take it. To focus on the feeling of his cock against my sex. His legs between my thighs. His hands against my waist.
Again.
Again.
Fuck—
"Azure."
He stops immediately. Looks up at me. Studies my expression. Waits.
I suck a breath through my teeth. "I still—"
"I know."
"But you—"
"Should I check in? Red, yellow, green?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He holds my gaze for a long moment, then he pulls me into a slow, deep kiss.
Again, he drags his lips down my neck. Over my collarbone. My breasts.
He bites softly.
Then harder.
Harder.
Until I let out a groan that's agony as much as it's ecstasy.
Then he stays there.
He toys with me with that same perfect pressure, sending pangs of pain and pleasure to every inch of my skin.
My entire body tunes to him.
The softness of his lips. The sharpness of his teeth.
His cock, hard, between my legs.
My hips rock of their own accord.
He groans against my flesh. But still, he toys with me. Mercilessly slowly, again and again.
Until I'm sure I can't take anymore.
And, still, he toys.
"Please." I rock against him. "Please, fuck me." Again. "Please, sir."
His nails dig into my skin.
It drives him crazy too.
But still, he's patient. He pulls back. Looks into my eyes. "Stand."
I do.
He tugs my pajama bottoms off my hips. Then my black panties.
I'm standing in his kitchen, naked, next to our used breakfast plates. A perfectly normal breakfast and now he's ordering me out of my clothes.
It's absurd.
It's absurd how much I like it.
Want it.
Crave it.
"You're beautiful, baby. Have I told you that?" His hand curls around my hip.
"Yes."
"I haven't said it enough." His fingers dig into the flesh of my ass.