Nicholas

"You won't...hurt me," Sinclair uttered. His chest tightened at her words.

Never!

He would sooner cut off his right hand than hurt even a single strand of her hair.

"You are right. You will always be safe from me, sweet. Always." His eyes darkened, watching her approached him timidly, he prayed for patience. Her cheeks tinged with a natural pinkish glow and she was breathing deeply. "But you need to know, to feel. You are mine. Come here." He patted his lap in an illicit invitation.

Approaching him slowly, he saw her eyes darted to the locked doors. "Don't even think about it, Sinclair. Running from me is futile....