Just my ragged breathing. Just the wet sounds of his fingers sliding free. Just the two of us in this white room where sanity had finally, completely disappeared.
“Yes.” Rook pressed soft kisses to my inner thighs, my mound, the crease of my hip. Each one felt like a brand. A claim. A promise of more to come.
“You’re such a good lover, Beloved.” When he finally pulled his hand away, his fingers were drenched—glistening with my release in the soft light.
“Look at that.” Rook held his fingers up and let me see the evidence of my total surrender. “So perfect.”
Then he put those fingers in his mouth and sucked them clean. The whole time his eyes locked on mine, and his groan of satisfaction vibrated through the silent room.
"Mmmm. Exactly as I imagined." He crawled up my body, settling beside me on the bed of straitjackets. "Sweet, warm, andmine."
I was trembling—from the aftermath of pleasure, from the heat still simmering in my blood, from the terrifying knowledge that one orgasm had only made the craving worse.
"That was—" My voice cracked. The words wouldn't form.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "That was just the beginning."
I shivered. “Y-yes. . .”
His hand stroked my braids, gentle, tender—the same hand that had just been inside me, the same hand that had killed.
"I could knot you right now, Beloved. I can smell how empty you feel. How badly your body craves being filled. How much your pussy still yearns for relief. Your heat is rising."
A broken moan escaped my lips.
Yes. God, yes. Fill me. Complete me. End this aching emptiness. . .
"But not yet." His thumb traced my cheekbone. "I want you to remember this night. When I finally knot you, when I make you mine in the way that can never be undone, I want you clearheaded enough to feel it all. The stretch. The fullness. The moment your body locks around mine and we become one."
Fresh heat pulsed through my exhausted body. The orgasm had barely taken the edge off—if anything, it had made things worse. My body now knew what pleasure felt like, and it wanted more.
Demanded more.
"Rest now." He pulled me against his chest, and I went willingly, too wrecked to resist. "Let your body recover. Let the bond settle deeper."
His lips brushed my temple. "We have all night before the next part of my plan, Beloved. And I intend to use all of it."
“What plan?”
“Aww, Beloved. It is better that you experience it.”
My eyes were already heavy, the combination of heat exhaustion and orgasmic aftermath pulled me toward unconsciousness. The white room pressed close, soft and silent, a cocoon where the woman I'd been was shifting into someone new.
But even as sleep claimed me, I could feel my body beginning to build again.
The emptiness returning.
The need coiling tight.
The addiction demanding another fix.
I used to treat addicts. I used to sit across from them and ask them to explain the hold their drug had on them, and I never understood. I thought it was weakness. I thought it was choice.
Now I knew better.
Some poisons taste so sweet, you'd rather die than be cured.
Because as I began to fall asleep. . .I was counting the minutes until he gave me more.
