" He pins my arms down, and his face is inches from mine. “You’re not an object to me. You’re not a possession, but I own you in a way I’ve never wanted to own something before. I don’t want you on display or on my shelves for others to look at. To touch. And I sure as shit don’t want to sell you to someone else.”
“Then what do you want from me?” I ask, hating the tears that threaten to fall from my eyes.
He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Fuck, Mic, I want you. "

― T.M. Frazier , Pike (The Pawn Duet, #1)