I stare at Isabelle, wondering if I heard her correctly. It’s possible I didn't. Quite possible, considering my unreasonably sudden lust for her. Ever since she walked in, I’ve wanted her closer. Close enough to touch. Is it any wonder I doubt my own ears when she offers herself to me, mine for the taking?

"I'll be your servant for one year if you'll forgive my father's debts," she says, raising her chin defiantly.

Ah. Disappointment follows that addendum. Even though I doubted, is it any wonder my mind immediately went to the gutter when she offered herself as payment? She's beautiful in a way other human females aren't. Naturally, effortlessly. I sincerely doubt a surgeon's scalpel has every touched her face or body. Her fine-grained skin lacks the sheer, slightly plastic, pore free finish holograms give. Her chestnut hair shines in the light, thick and luxurious, mirroring the warm brown of her large eyes. Her lightly tan, perfect skin glows, her plump lips an invitation I almost can't ignore.

Her body is just as much a temptation. My hands itch to run over curves hidden by her simple clothing. Jeans and white blouses are not the height of fashion, but the very fact that they are so far from fussy only interests me more. She could be dressed in rags and I'd still find her intriguing. I want her, badly, and what I want, I get. But if I scare her, it might dissuade her from her foolhardy endeavor to have me forgive her father's debts. I need to go about this negotiation delicately. I do not wish to frighten her but if I tip my hand and show her just how much I want her, she'll have too much power.

"One year doesn't even begin to repay the amount I am owed," I growl, attempting to look unimpressed by her offer, though the thought of that much time in close proximity to her has me salivating. "Five years," I counter harshly.

My cock is throbbing, the hard length of it making my pants uncomfortably tight. It urges me to forget negotiating. I want her now. Right here. But I carefully hold on to my patience. Now is not the time to give in to what I want.

She narrows her eyes, crossing her arms. "Two years," she spits out. "That is more than fair."

She is correct. I would take six months but I haven't gotten to where I am because I'm fair or reasonable. I take a step closer and her eyes widen a fraction but she holds her ground as I loom over her. I'm close enough the heat from her body radiates between us, her breath catches in her throat as I inhale her sweet scent. She has no idea how dangerous it is for her to be so close to me.

"Four years," I say, fascinated by the golden striations in her eyes. Pretty. Just like everything else about her.

"Two and a half," she says, her tone quieter as I deliberately invade her space.

She is lucky I do not simply pull her in tight against myself where I want her, every inch of her body against mine. Against every inch of my hard cock. Her defiance only stokes my desire, inciting the urge to show her who is dominant. To show her that resisting me isn't a good idea. I let my leash slip, but only slightly. Growling, I swiftly cup the side of her neck and she freezes, her eyes wide, breathing shallow.

Careful. I almost have what I want. Isa is like a small animal, caught in the grip of a large predator and hoping to not draw attention, to still somehow escape. It is a false hope. There will be no escape. I cup her cheek with my other hand and she flinches slightly, though again, she doesn't try to move away. As if she senses it will only make me chase her. My movements are fast, but even though my beast is rising, flexing against the restraints I have imposed upon it, my touch is gentle. I do not want to hurt her. Far from it.

"Three years," I snarl. "Three measly years, a steal for your father's library and home," I growl, my hands still holding her in a gentle yet inexorable grip. "Yes or no. This is my final offer." I go still inside, waiting for her to agree. She must agree.

She inhales, her gaze still daring me, not cowed. Not at all. My cock throbs with desire. Her defiance just makes me want to make her submit. Submit while I give her pleasure like she's never felt before, until she is drunk on it, until she only wants more.

"Three years," she agrees, even her acquiescence somehow a taunt.

My beast growls inside, wanting to show this soft female that it is not to be trifled with, that its teeth are not simply for show. I tighten my jaw as I fight the urge to bend her over and take her, plow into her until she admits my dominion, until she submits to me as she should. Careful. Not yet. I let go, one finger at a time, each loss of contact like a punch in the gut. I inhale harshly as I take a step back. Her cheeks are flushed a healthy pink, her hair mussed from my handling. She looks like she’s been worked over, as if she just rolled out from a tangled nest of sheets. Soon. Soon.

"Fine," I say, once I regain some semblance of control. "You have two days to wrap up your affairs then you will report to me to begin your service. Every day, every hour, every second of your time will be mine for the next three years." Her face pales as I lay that out. Good. If she agrees, she must know what I expect. "If you renege, either now, or a day before your time with me is up, I will collect on the debts owed to me. Your father will lose the library and his home. Understand?"

She swallows, the clicking of her throat harsh in the silence.

"Isa," her father entreats, his fear of me clear. He is a smart man. "Do not do this! I beg you!"

She turns to hug her father, but her eyes remain on me over his shoulder. "I understand," she says softly, finally looking away and breaking our link. The loss of it sharp. No matter. She will be in my care soon enough.

I leave as her father continues to try to convince her not to take this devil's deal. I smile to myself at the phrase. It’s an apt description. I may not quite be the devil, but there’s no denying I have just gotten much more from buying those debts than I ever dreamed I would. Much more indeed. I close the door softly behind myself, still unable to fully catch my breath simply from being in the same vicinity as Isabelle Stone. My cock pulses again as I remember the softness of her skin, her luscious scent, the warmth of her body so close to mine, so painfully close without actually touching where I wanted her to touch me most. Where I wanted her soft hands to caress me.

I groan. I have never had such a strong reaction to a female, especially not when we were both fully clothed and upright. Not even a kiss exchanged. I adjust myself roughly as I step down, my pants tighter than they have a right to be. I've just bought three years of Isabelle's time. Three years of this madness, of my beast bucking at the faulty reins of my control. I consider the reality of that, the possible consequences. I finally have room to be concerned, now that I'm not completely blinded by desire.

Perhaps it is not only she who should be wary of the time to come. Perhaps I should have taken more time to consider this deal.

What have I done?