Not from pain.
Not from fear.
From the overwhelming completeness of being exactly where I belonged.
“Oh, Beloved.” Rook collapsed on top of me with his knot still buried deep inside me, his cock still twitching with the final pulses of his release.
“My Queen.” He gathered me against his chest as much as the restraints allowed, pressing kisses to my forehead, my eyelids, my tear-streaked cheeks. "My beautiful, perfect Queen."
Behind the glass, the Broken Court had collapsed into a tangle of satisfied bodies too. Some were laughing. Some were crying. All of them were staring at us with worship in their eyes.
I had been crowned.
Not with gold or jewels, but with cum, pleasure, and the unbreakable lock of his knot.
I should be horrified.I should be planning my escape, thinking about how to get back to my old life.
But the woman who would have thought those things was gone.
She had disappeared on this operating table, in this room where minds were broken and remade.
And the woman who remained—the one with her serial killer mate knotted deep inside her, with his court of madmen and madwomen worshipping at their union. . .that woman was finally, completely home.
"How long?" My voice was barely a whisper. "How long until we can. . "
"Until I can fuck you again?" His laugh was dark and satisfied.
I shivered. “Yes.”
"The knot will release in about twenty minutes. And then, Beloved. . ." He kissed me softly, tenderly, with all the love a monster was capable of feeling. "Then we do it again. And again. And again. Until your heat breaks and you're carrying my child."
The words should have terrified me.
Instead, my pussy clenched around his knot, and I felt another mini-orgasm ripple through my oversensitized body.
I'm obsessed. I'm claimed. I'm his.
And God help me, I never wanted to be cured.
Chapter seven
Fragmented
Listening Companion:
Massive Attack—Angel (Instrumental)
Time became a fever dream.
I existed in fragments—bits of consciousness floating in a warm, dark sea. My heat had consumed me entirely, turning my body into a vessel of need that only Rook could fill.
And he filled it.
Again.
And again.
And again.
