Page 215 of Sinister

His brows go up in surprise. “You want to . . .”

“Consummate the bond,” I say with a decisive nod.

“Are you sure? Because once we take that step, there is no going back.”

“I know. And I’m ready. As long as it’s you, I want everything,” I tell him sincerely.

Perhaps I should be more scared of what this means, especially considering the unusual circumstances of our meeting and the rather questionable rumors swirling around him. But it feels right.

He is right for me. And I want to own him as much as I want to be owned by him. Forever.

He stares at me intently, his eyes darkening with lust. Slowly, his gaze shifts downward to the curve of my neck and the swell of my breasts.

“If you’re sure . . .” He swallows hard.

I nod fervently.

“Take off your clothes,” he commands.

I blink, a little taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor. Where before he’d been shy and reserved, now he is confident and domineering—and somehow, that only makes the heat within me burn fiercer.

“Take off your clothes, Petra, because if I do it, I can’t promise I won’t rip them off.”

My cheeks redden, and I slowly unbutton my bolero and lay it aside. Next is my dress. I struggle with the buttons at the back until I finally slip out of the gown. It pools at my feet, but there’s still more.

He watches me closely, barely blinking, taking in every movement. When I reach behind to undo my corset, he lets out a low growl in his throat.

Warmth floods me under his gaze. I wonder what he sees when he looks at me. I wonder if my form is as pleasing to him as his is to me. I pull down the corset, along with my undergarments, until I am fully bare before him.

I have to fight the urge to cover myself. The last time we’d been in a similar situation, I thought it was all a dream. Perhaps that’s why I’d been so free then. But now—though I was the one who initiated this—I feel suddenly shy. Not unsure, exactly. Just exposed.

A harsh sound escapes him, and I notice his hands have tightened into fists.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “So goddamn beautiful.”

I flush even deeper. “I’m glad you think so,” I murmur softly.

“Don’t hide from me,” he says as I instinctively place a hand over my private parts. “I want to see you, Petra. I want to see everything.”

Slowly, I move my hand aside and stand tall before him.

“Let me see. Let me see what’s mine,” he croons.

That one word—mine—sends shivers down my spine. Because that’s all I want to be. His. Only his.

“Your turn,” I tell him in a low voice.

He raises a brow.

“Your clothes,” I add, “take them off.” I muster the courage to command him back.

He smirks and stands up. Slowly, he removes one garment at a time—first his necktie, then his vest. He unbuttons his shirt and throws it onto the sofa, leaving his chest bare.

I drink in the sight of him, golden and muscular, brimming with vitality. The dark sigil on his chest is a stark contrast to the rest of his body, marking him as mine.

Next are his trousers. He undoes them and pulls them down. Now, he’s just as naked as I am. Though I’ve seen him like this before, it feels as if this is the first time I truly see him.

My gaze drops to his abdomen, then lower, until it lands on his erection hardening right before my eyes.