My body heated with intrigue. Sometimes she asked to sleep with me, and that always cost her a button. I didn't want to share my bed with her, but I desperately wanted that button. It was a small price to pay to fuck her throughout the night. Did she want something different now?

My thoughts immediately kicked into overdrive until I came to a conclusion. It got me hot all over the place. What if she wanted to hurt me the way I hurt her? What if she wanted to tie me up and whip me until I bled all over the floor? I'd never let a woman do that to me before. It never crossed my mind. But the idea of this woman doing it to me...sent me to the edge with insanity. She was strong and ruthless. She would whip me with such brutality I wouldn't have to egg her on. She would do it all on her own. "What do you want, Button?" I kept my tone steady, hiding the excitement in my voice. My cock was hard in my trousers, and I resisted the urge to adjust it.

"I want more."

More pain? More flogging? "More what?"

"I want you to take me to a show and dinner."

My mind immediately went blank when I heard what she said. I wasn't even sure if I heard her correctly. Maybe my fantasies got the best of me and interfered with what she said. I stayed quiet, hoping she would clarify.

"For two buttons."

So she did say what I thought she said. "Is this a joke?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, holding her edge. "No."

When my fantasy was shattered, I was left with irritation. "I'm not taking you out on a date. I already told you, I'm not your boyfriend."

"I never said you were."

"Then we have an understanding."

She tapped her finger against her arm, thinking. "Five buttons."

Five was a lot. That was the usual cost for a night with her tied to the headboard.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." She repeated my own words back to me. "But this is what I want. And the more buttons I spend, the longer you get to keep me."

My intrigue piqued at those final words. If I took her buttons, she would have less in her jar. And she would be forced to stay here longer-possibly indefinitely. Maybe a date wouldn't be so bad after all. "Ten." I was getting as many buttons out of this as I could.

"Five. The number is non-negotiable."

I knew ten was a steep push. Flogging her cost twenty buttons, and it would be ludicrous to charge ten just for having dinner with her. "I have a few questions."

"I'm listening."

"What do you get out of that?" She spent plenty of time with me. In fact, we had dinner together nearly every night. Then I fucked her into the mattress every night. Her lips were always kissed with my mouth. Why waste money on this?

"I get a lot of out of it, actually."

I still didn't see the benefit. Then it hit me right in the face. "You want me to take you to a city so you can run." I was stupid for not reaching that conclusion right off the bat. "Not gonna work."

"I'm not going to run."

"Really? I thought we didn't lie to each other."

She leaned over the table, staring me down. "There's no point in me running. I have no money and no papers to get on an international flight. The only way I can ever go home is if you help me."

I couldn't argue with that reasoning. "You could go to the embassy."

"I have no idea where it is. And I don't want to take my chances searching for it when Bones could spot me. I would much rather stay here with you than return to that psycho."

My suspicion faded away. "I still don't understand."

"You're my only friend, Crow. I like being with you even when we aren't fucking. I just want more from you. I need affection. I need attention. I need something."

Since she was a woman, I tried to understand her needs. She'd been cooped up in the house for months. Our conversations were minimal. We spent most of our time screwing. There wasn't much more to it.

"And the reason doesn't matter. I still don't completely understand why you enjoy hurting me so much. Why your cock is so thick inside me after you whip me. But I don't ask because it doesn't make a difference. This is what I want. Take my buttons and give it to me. Or don't."

When she laid it on thick like that, I couldn't object. She was right. Whatever her reason was, it didn't matter. I either wanted her buttons or I didn't. "I agree to your terms."

"Thank you."

The more buttons I took from her, the less she would have.

And she would be mine forever.

Lars greeted me at the entrance. "Sir, do you have any preferences for dinner tonight?"

"No. I'm going out."

"Out?" I was a well-known recluse that preferred solitude. It was very rare for me to eat dinner outside the house. And Lars couldn't hide his surprise at the statement.

"Yeah. Button and I are going out."

"Oh, that sounds nice." He gave me a quick nod before he returned to the kitchen, probably to tell the cooks they had the evening off.

I walked to her bedroom on the second floor and tapped my knuckles against the door.

"Come in."

No matter how many times I knocked, I never got used to it. I wanted to barge in because I owned her. But she would give me hell if I did. I stepped inside still wearing my suit.

She stood at the window, looking across the fields.

I knew she loved the view because the window was always open. Whenever the alarm was set for the night, I had to disregard that window. I could never tell her to shut it. She would give her two cents on the matter. "Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

She finally turned her gaze on me, her interest non-existent. "Sure."

I should have phrased my question better. "Would you like to have dinner with me in Tuscany? I thought we could go wine tasting afterward."

Her eyes immediately filled with light, her excitement undeniable. She abandoned the window and gave me her full attention. That joy in her eyes was something I'd never seen before. She never looked at me like that. The only expressions I received from her were disdain and lust-with the exception of when she cried in vigilance of my sorrow.

I tried to block it out.

"I would love to." She placed her hands tightly together in front of her chest. "When?"

"As soon as you get ready."

"I'll need twenty minutes."

I extended my palm, my fingers stretched outward.

When she eyed it, the happiness in her eyes dulled. She retrieved the five buttons from the jar and dropped them onto my extended hand. Then she crossed her arms and waited for me to leave.

I pocketed them and walked out, knowing I'd fucked up the mood.

She met me at foyer half an hour later. She came down the stairs in a skin-tight black dress. It was simple, hugging her hips and waist and showing a good amount of cleavage. A golden necklace hung from her throat, something Lars picked out for her.

I eyed her as she made her entrance and noted the soft curls of her hair. It was pulled over one shoulder and long, trailing past her chest. Her makeup was heavier than she normally wore. Her eyes were dark, sexy.

She looked fuckable.

She watched my reaction as she approached me. She tried to read my expression like she always did. She hated the fact I understood her so well but she didn't truly understand me.

But she didn't need to bother. I gave her answers when she didn't ask-sometimes. "Button, you're perfect." I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her to my side, loving the feel of her perfect tits against my chest. When we finished our evening, I would fuck her hard into the mattress and come all over those gorgeous tits.

"Thanks. You look handsome too." She ran her hand up my chest, feeling my gray collared shirt. The top button was open and her fingers touched my bare skin at the gap.

Maybe I would fuck her in the car.

"Let's go." The sooner we got this over with, the sooner we would be home. And I would be between her legs, moving through her slickness, just where I belonged.

I drove my special edition Audi through the hills as we headed to town. I preferred the glorious landscapes with the wide open spaces. I loved the smell of the olive trees. Summer or winter, Tuscany was beautiful. I'd traveled to many different places but nothing was as remarkable as this country.

Her eyes were focused out the window as I drove, treasuring the false feeling of freedom. She'd been locked up in two different houses since she'd been kidnapped. This was the most alive she must have felt for a long time.

I knew she wouldn't run. The thought didn't enter my mind after we discussed it. I didn't bother bringing my gun because I wasn't concerned. There was always a pistol in the car but it wasn't loaded.

"I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful place..." Her eyes followed the hills as we moved.

"Because you haven't."

She turned back to me, her eyes pretty. Her lashes were long and extended, and her lipstick was ruby red.

I pictured the color smeared around the base of my cock.

Her hand moved to the gearshift where mind rested, and I immediately grew suspicious of her actions. Was she trying to take over the car? She was a fighter so it wouldn't surprise me. Instead, she placed her hand on mine.

I eyed it, unsure what she was doing.

She looked out the window again, her hand finding comfort on top of mine.

Normally, I would pull away. I wasn't an affectionate man. Unless things led to sex, I wasn't interested. But she told me what she wanted and paid for it. If she could be whipped and spanked, then I could do this.

I could give this to her.

I turned my hand and interlocked our fingers together, holding her like a lover.

She eyed our joined hands but didn't react. A minute passed before she looked out the window again, her hand still tucked into mine. Soon, her thumb brushed across my knuckles, feeling the hard and calloused skin.

The touch soothed me. But that realization made my body tense in irritation. Affection was hard for me to give and even harder for me to receive. It burned in my blood and turned me into a hateful person.

But I could do it.

I'd done unspeakable things to her and she played her part. If this what she wanted, if this was her fantasy, I could do it. She needed to be my slave for as long as possible.

And holding her hand would make that happen.

She sat across from me at the dinner table and stared at the menu. Her eyes scanned back and forth before she pulled out a folded piece of paper from her clutch. She glanced through it before she turned back to the menu.

I eyed her in interest. "Button, what are you doing?"

"Deciphering the menu. The whole thing is in Italian."

I gestured for her to put it down.

"No," she said quickly. "I want to figure it out on my own." She waved me off and kept using her notes to figure out what she wanted to order. "I really don't want to end up ordering snails."

The corner of my lip upturned in a smile. "That's French, not Italian."

"Oh...I still don't want anything like that." She ran her fingers through her hair absentmindedly, and she had no idea how sexy she looked as she did it. Diamonds flashed in her ears, sparkling by candlelight.

She was the most gorgeous woman in the room, no competition. In fact, she was the most beautiful woman in every room I walked into. When I first laid eyes on her, I didn't find her impressive. I'd been with a long line of beautiful and exotic women. But I felt differently now. I noticed the small freckles on her cheeks when she didn't wear makeup. I noticed the way one side of her mouth would lift slightly higher than the opposite side when she smiled. I noticed how long and lean her perfect legs were. Every scar attested to her strength, making her invincible. And even when she cried with blotchy cheeks and red eyes...she looked stunning.

I'd never been more obsessed in my life.

Her spirit attracted me like a moth to a flame. Even when she fell into a depression, she was still stronger than I'd ever been. She looked fear in the eye without blinking. She stood up for herself because she understood no one else would. She made a life for herself, starting with nothing and becoming an independent and powerful woman.

She deserved my respect.

And she had it.

"Okay, I think I know what I want." She folded up the paper and returned it to her clutch.

I didn't realize how far my mind had drifted. I sat there for five minutes and pointed out every quality she possessed. My internal thoughts were raging when I normally didn't think about anything at all. "And what did you decide on?"

"The lasagna."

My chest rumbled with a quiet chuckle. "It won't be anything like that American shit you're used to."