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181 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 17, 2012



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"I’ve given myself to a man who hates me. This isn’t what girls dream of when they grow up. They imagine falling in love and giving themselves to men whose love matches their own. "

“I don’t ever want this to be easy for you. Not you.” “But I will always be here after they’re finished with your body, to reclaim every inch of what those disgusting men take from you. You belong to me.”
"/>"I want to see him, taste him, and I'm not sure what that means. He terrifies me, but I'm also drawn to his beautiful, strong body and his dark, intimidating eyes."
"For a man that terrifies me, I certainly do find the idea of touching him and tasting him extremely intoxicating."
"But I will always be here after they're finished with your body, to reclaim every inch of what those disgusting men take from you. You belong to me."
"Oh God, Derek." He moves up my body, his own arousal still straining against his jeans, and when he leans toward my mouth, he speaks in a husky voice. "God, I love the sound of my name on your lips when you come."
"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you when you needed to hear it most, but I do love you. I want you to have more than I can ever give you. I want you to have better than I can ever be. Please forgive me."
“I forgive you.” They’re the only words I can give him, and I pray desperately they’re enough.
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“You and I … we’re nothing to one another.”
And there’s my fury. My mouth scrunched up in a mad grimace, I reach up, hitting him hard across the face with my open hand. The slapping sound is loud, and
instant shock registers on his face.
But for all his kind words that are meant to sound endearing, he disturbs me. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t
know that I’m sweet, so why should he call me “sweetie”? He’s never touched my body, so how does he know he’s going to make me “feel so good”? He has no right
to be romantic with me because he hasn’t earned my adoration. He has no business telling me how good he’s going to treat me when he hasn’t earned my respect. I
hate him for his words, and wish I could tape his damn mouth shut and make him shut up, and when that mouth kisses mine, I struggle not to cry. When his tongue
enters my mouth, I struggle not to bite it off.
“But I will always be here after they’re finished with your body, to reclaim every inch of what those disgusting men take from you. You belong to me.”
And then he starts yelling, and my body freezes at his outburst. “I was in love with you! And I sold your body to another man to fuck. How the fuck should I feel
about that? That I was doing my job? I loved you, and I still did it!”
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As a lone tear breaks free
from my suddenly moist eyes, he asks, “Will you marry me, Ash?”
I nod, saying nothing at all. My tears are flowing freely now, and he pulls me into his arms as I continue to cry. When I finally calm enough to pull from him, I look
to his eyes. I still owe him an answer after all. “Yes.”




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"Whatever little glimmer of humanity this might symbolize, I’ll take it. It’s enough. He feels. It doesn’t mean he’ll compromise; hell, it doesn’t mean he’s capable of ever fighting past his over-restrained soul tucked away and hidden from the world. What it does mean is there is a light buried somewhere deep inside, a light I desperately want to find."