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“Then we have a bigger problem that we’ll have to deal with outside this room.” His jaw tightens. “And I don't think either of us wants to go there.”

Something dark twists low in my gut. Something closer to the realization that this isn't a fight I can win by being smarter or more stubborn. Because DK isn't asking me to submit to him, he's reminding me that I already chose to follow the day I was initiated into Beta Rho and gave my allegiance to the King.

And now he's waiting to see if I meant it. I stare at him for another beat, every instinct screaming at me to push back again. But behind him, Ari is still watching me, and suddenly I understand what this fight has really been about all along.

DK isn't the thing I'm afraid to surrender to, and he knows it.

It's her.

That realization is all it takes, and without thinking, I lower myself to one knee.

Startled, DK says, “Dude, what are you–”

“What I should have done weeks ago.” I clear my throat. “I, Hunter Sorren, give my fealty and oath to you, the Baron King, to my brothers, the Shadows, and to the souls of Forsyth."

I reach into my pocket and pull out my knife. Unfolding it, I make a quick, smooth cut along the soft flesh of my wrist. It’s not deep, but enough to draw a thin bead of blood to the surface. “From blood to blood, a Baron is born. Tonight, I am born anew, at your service, loyal to your command. If my oath is broken, my loyalty compromised, I will suffer the consequences.”

DK looks astonished, probably at my eidetic memory, but recovers quickly enough. He gestures for me to stand, and once we’re face to face again, he grabs me by the forearm, holds my wrist to his face, and licks a drip of blood with his tongue.

The moment is intense, but genuine. I do trust DK with my life, and that includes everything going on with Arianette.

Licking his lips, he looks over at Arianette and asks, “You ready, Doll Baby?”

Her lips curve, pleased with what just transpired with the two of us. “I’m ready.”

I look down at her, waiting patiently on her hands and knees, the vulnerable line of her spine, and those curvy hips and full ass cheeks taunting me. I push down my jeans, kicking them off my feet and step forward, cock already throbbing in my hand. Grabbing her hips, I flip her onto her back in one smooth motion. She bounces on the silk sheets, tits jiggling, thighs falling open–a slick sheen glistening on her skin. Her swollen clit and the little piercing glint in the low red light.

“I just want to look at you,” I rasp. The need to come is already choking me. I glance at DK. “Beautiful, right?”

“She’s fucking perfect,” he says, eyes dark. “Take off her mask. I want to see her face.”

I climb over her, knees on either side of her body, and gently pull the mask away. Her flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and glassy eyes hit me like a punch to the chest. Yeah. This is better.

“Spread her legs,” DK orders.

I push her thighs wide, leaving a streak of blood across her flesh. I inhale the scent of pussy mingled with copper, and my cock bobs eagerly. With her knees bent and pushed open, she’s completely exposed. She whimpers, hips twitching.

“Tell him when you’re ready for him to fuck you, Ari.”

“Fuck me,” she assures me and then reaches for my face. She pulls my mask off and smiles. “Please.”

Face to face. Eye to eye. That’s how we’re doing this.

DK drops back into the leather chair, pops the button on his jeans, and shoves his hand inside, palming himself as he watches.

I line up again, this time with her looking straight at me. I push in slow, inch by inch, savoring the tight, wet heat of her pussy swallowing my cock. She moans, back arching. When I bottom out, I hold still, letting her adjust, letting myself feel every flutter around me.

I’m close to being a one-pump-chump, and I don’t even care.

I start moving–slow, deep rolls of my hips that gradually turn harder. The urge is there, always there, crawling under my skin. My hand slides up her body, fingers wrapping loosely around her throat. I squeeze just a little.

DK’s voice cuts through, “Hold off.”

But Nettie’s hand flies up, wrapping around my wrist, holding me there. Her tongue darts out to lick the bead of blood on my palm. My hips jerk forward from the heat of her mouth, and she grins. “Do it again. Harder.”

I look at DK. He gives me a single, deliberate nod.

That permission snaps something inside me.