𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

𝐈 𝐒𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 edge of the bed.

Beau is on his knees before me.

Prince-cut emeralds lace my skin and leave it burning for more as he places one finger between my sock and the heat of my ankle. My hair curtains around my cheeks, the ends dancing on the tips of Beau's curls as he slowly drags the clothing off my right foot—off my left.

My face is warm, filled with the ongoing and upcoming desire that might be laced upon me from the undoings of a man I've fallen through the pits of hell itself for, as Beau tosses my socks to the ground and slowly comes off his knees.

"Little dove."

He speaks, and his words are a caress.

I lift my chin, allowing my vision to return to me, allowing my face to be unsheathed by the protection of my silvery mane. The moon beams against the front of my eyes, and I want to wince, only I do not want to miss a second of his aura, of his stature.

One of his hands comes to the side of my jaw, and I instinctually lean into it.

The sound of the rain is in rhythm with the pound of my heart as he bends down.

"I'll ask you one more time, for the sake of my self-control," he breathes, and I can sense the shake in his voice, the visceral failure of it already, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

I lick my lips.

Wet my throat.

I want to nod, but I know that there's no room left for uncertainties—not when I've ridden my emotions from the truth of their bearings—not when he's looking at me like I might be the creator of his heaven, or his Earth, or both.

"I want you, that's all I know," I admit, blinking up at him, "I want whatever you're willing to give me, whatever you're comfortable with. I just know that whatever it is you desire, it's fine with me so long as it's you I'm experiencing it with."

I inhale a gasp as the hold Beau has on my cheek turns aggressive.

His fingers slip behind my jaw and dip into the hairline at the back of my scalp. He grips me dangerously hard, and I let a sliver of a whimper escape my lips, partly because it hurts, but mostly because I know my obedience is something he requires.

A flash of desire passes his green eyes as he hears it.

But he doesn't loosen his hold.

"You talk as if there's anyone else who can have you."

"No one else," I swallow thickly, "No one but you."

"Damn right," he towers over me, "I'm going to show you just how true your words are. By the time I'm finished with you, you're going to wish you'd never danced with me back then. By the time I'm done with you, you're going to regret ever enticing me."