"Just... just use me... however you want."
The surrender hung in the air, heavy and absolute. Vivienne lay flattened against the cold mahogany, her ass hiked high in the air, trembling not from the draft in the room, but from the terrifying, exhilarating realization that she had just handed him the keys to her sanity.
"However I want?" Alex repeated, his voice dangerously low.
Vivienne felt the words vibrate through the floor, through her ribcage, settling somewhere deep in her chest.
His hand touched the small of her back. The contact burned... not painful, but searing with significance. That single palm, flat against her spine, somehow felt like a brand. Like ownership.
"Be careful what you wish for, Mrs. Vanderbilt."
He began to move.
His hand slid down... agonizingly slow... mapping the curve of her spine like a cartographer claiming new territory.
