“Perfect,” he murmured, turning back to the bed—and the dream of a woman who lay there. With her golden hair spread against the satin and her body bare except for the blindfold, she was an image of trembling readiness. He was ready, too. No turning back. He would claim her. Consume her. Conquer her. And when he was done, he’d never go through the agony of letting her go again.

With that resolve, he paced to the side of the bed. Attached to a leather tether was one of the padded wrist cuffs he’d requested. With rapid flicks, he opened the buckle.

“Arm.” He said it with steady calm, knowing the directive would be heeded. Sure enough, though goose bumps sprouted on her skin, she extended her wrist for the bondage.

After he cinched her other wrist, he moved to the end of the bed. When he clutched one of her ankles and dragged it out toward its own cuff, she broke into a whimper. He went still.

“Problem, sugar?”

Her throat undulated. “No, Sir.” Her murmur carried an edge of fear, though he looked at her nipples turn darker and tighter. Telltale dew drops appeared on the well-trimmed mound between her legs. Two streams of such different intent, flowing through her body. So mesmerizing. So fascinating. And arousing as hell. Nevertheless, he didn’t move his hand from its firm grip around her ankle.

“Do you still trust me, beautiful?”

“Y-Yes, Sir.”

“You know we have to do this.” His tone was gentle but his hold commanding as he fastened her ankle inside its cuff. “You know what I need to do here.” The clink of the second buckle coincided with another rush of shimmering cream to her pouting pussy lips. “You know this is necessary. I can’t fuck you if I can’t keep you safe. If I don’t know you won’t disappear again. If I’m not sure—”

You won’t die again.

He banished the terror with a determined grunt. She wasn’t going to die. She was here, buckled down for him, so wet and ready for him. Yes. Yes.

As he ran his hand up her thigh, he confirmed it. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you, Sage?”

She wriggled again and moaned. “Oh please…yes!”

Her mouth stayed parted after that, pulling in deep gulps to fill her chest, pumping in frenetic proof of her mounting need. Her fingers pulled at the leather tethers above the wrist restraints. Her legs shook as she tested the limits of the ankle cuffs. Her hips flexed and her ass bunched, joining in an effort to thrust her sex higher to him. Fuck, she was beautiful. A mixture of such striking textures. While her muscles flexed in taut frustration, the tender petals of her core bade him closer…closer still…

He mounted the bed, into the V between her legs. He rose high on his knees, using the vantage point to drag his stare over every inch of her again. Wherever his gaze touched, he let the crop follow. It wasn’t long before he dragged the leather fronds over the erect ridge of flesh nestled in the center of her sex. She gasped and threw back her head as he swiped her pussy again. More goose bumps dotted her thighs and arms.

“Now,” he stated, “I want you to tell me how much you want me again—and how you’ll gladly pay the price for my cock.”

Her entire frame succumbed to another shiver. But she wet her lips and stammered, “Yes, Sir. I do want your hard cock. And I will pay the price for it.”

“Good girl.” He gave her the praise just before whapping her rosy folds. She yelped from the spank but bit it short the next second, her chin set with the resignation that more were to follow.

“Again.” He slid the crop along the inside of her left thigh. “Say it again.”

“I want you, Sir.”

“Perfect.” He brought the flogger down on her mound more gently the second time, making her twist her hips with breathtaking abandon. “You have three more swats to go, sugar. After I give each one, I want you to tell me exactly what you want.”

He flung the flogger down again.

“Ohhh! Y-Yes! Please, Sir. I want your cock.”

Thwack.

“You want what?”

“You! Your cock!”

Thwack.

“Ooohhhh!”

Garrett didn’t let her come down from the adrenaline. He landed the fifth strike in the middle of her sob, yanking her cry into a scream and coaxing new juices all over her reddened, sensitive blossom. To make the sight more incredible, the insides of her thighs quivered, shimmering with her aroused perspiration.

Holy hell. She was spectacular. His cock reared. He couldn’t wait to detonate with her. His body already felt like a state fair fireworks finale. For the first time since he was a teenager, he didn’t know if he could contain his orgasm long enough to get inside her. On a ragged breath, he grinded his jaw. He had to make it.

She gasped, and he marveled at the sight of her pulse beating in her neck. He tossed the crop aside in order to lean over and slide two fingers along that hammering artery. Her heartbeat sped up. Heat surged through him. Goddamn. This was what pure power felt like. No wonder the high could corrupt men. But he didn’t feel corrupted. He was floored. Humbled. Grateful.

“Mine,” he whispered. “You’re mine, Sage, and I’m never letting you go again.” He moved his whole hand across her neck, stroking the cream of her perfect skin, savoring the strength of her strong, aroused pulse. “Say it, Sage. Tell me you belong to me…forever.”

Her lips parted.

But no sound came out.

Her throat constricted, as if choking off a sob. “I…love you,” she finally rasped. “So much…so much…”

As her voice curled through him, her body dissolved beneath him. Turned into blackness…just like the long, empty months he’d just been through without her…

“No.” His head reared back as the sound grated out of him. “No!” he roared.

He reached for her. Ripped the blindfold off, seeking the brilliant life in her huge green eyes.

But they weren’t green.

They were black. And viscous.

Their sockets began to writhe. Worms, taking over her lifeless body…fading back into the mud of a dark velvet jungle…

* * *

He jerked back to consciousness. Back to reality. To the revelation it brought, slicing straight into his gut, searing with nauseating force.

I’m not a fucking Dominant.

And I’m the Prince of Persia. He dragged a bleary stare up at Zeke and belched.

“Lovely,” Z drawled.

“Thanks, Your Highness.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” His head throbbed, but strong instinct dictated it was only the start. The throbbing music in the air only made shit worse. Katy Perry crooned about the pitfalls of playing with dark magic. Well, no fucking shit. “Damn. Why are they blasting that crap so early?”

“It’s almost lunch time,” Z replied. “And it’s only the radio.”

He didn’t know what to give back but a stunned grunt.

As if the sound had pulled her magic bell, Gia reappeared. She smiled with the serenity of a Madonna, leaning over to wipe his face with a warm wet towel. Garrett yanked it from her, finishing the job himself. The last damn thing he wanted right now was sympathy or tenderness.

The last damn person he wanted to be right now was the monster living in his skin.

Way to pull down the impressive stats, Hawk. One fucked-up vodka haze. One disgusted best friend. One abandoned woman, waiting in your bed at the base. And oh yeah, one cock that can still drill through the side of a tank.

And zero points in the decent human being department.

“Gia?”

The woman stepped back over with the grace of a duchess. “Yes, Sir?”

“No,” he growled. “Not ‘sir.’ Just Garrett.” He steeled himself, forcing his gaze to stay focused on her while the room spun. “Garrett…who badly needs a shower. You have one of those around here?”

“Of course—though I must warn you, the ‘hot’ is only given when the gods feel very generous.”

He snorted. “That’s fine. Right now, I’m not interested in the ‘hot.’”

Chapter Six

Sage gave as many details as she could to Rayna, though she deliberately glossed over the grittier stuff. How did one talk to their friend, even after what they’d been through together, about feeling the way she did from Garrett’s behavior? Hey, Ray, I know you were pinned in that cave and had your body altered against your will, but can I tell you about how wet I got when my fiancé held me down and smacked my pussy? Did I mention how it made me think of nothing but begging him to tie me up and then fuck me until thinking became impossible?

God help her, it still sounded like heaven. She’d done more thinking in one year than most people could handle in a lifetime.

She still stuck to the basics with Rayna—which still got weird when arriving at the part about Garrett’s invasion-of-the-body-snatchers exit. Luckily, Rayna wasn’t able to ask too many questions by that point, because everything turned back into a mess of sobs. True to form, her friend held her through every tear. It was easy to feel the trembles in Ray’s own frame too. Both of them needed only one hand to count how many times they’d allowed themselves emotions like this over the last twelve months. When survival was more important than feelings, breaking down simply wasn’t an option. Maybe they needed to make up for lost time now.

Lost time.

The words jolted her like sunlight breaking through clouds.