He let out a soft, mocking hum, his hand sliding from her chin down to her nape, his fingers tangling in her blonde hair to pull her head back just a little further, exposing the long, elegant line of her throat.
"You want a man who makes you forget your own name," he whispered, his voice dripping with a dominant, almost cruel confidence. "You want a man who doesn't ask what you want but tells you exactly what you're going to feel."
"You don't want to be the one 'using' a friend... you want to be the one who is entirely used."
"You want to be the woman who begs, Ellie."
"You want to be the one on her knees, desperate, breathless, and completely at the mercy of someone who actually knows how to handle all of this."
He glanced down at the swell of her massive breasts, then back to her eyes, his gaze possessive and unyielding. "You want to surrender..."
