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I moaned as he grabbed my chin and forced my eyes up.
His skin blazed with wildfire. His lips wet from his tongue. Tipping my head to the side, he whispered, “Don’t be afraid of me. You promised you wouldn’t be afraid—”
“I’m not.” I sagged against him, humming under his touch. “I’m afraid of myself. Of how much I need you.”
“I can see how wet you are. It’s taking everything I have not to fuck you and forgo all this shit.” His hand holding the whip grazed along my hipbone. His thumb stroked those maddening little Morse code swirls, sending me messages of love and togetherness. “I’m jumping out of my skin, Ily.”
Behind him, Victor kissed Rachel as he finished clamping silver things to her breasts. She didn’t utter a single word to her Master, yet I had a million I wanted to say to mine.
Henri sensed the racing alphabet of my thoughts as he nipped the shell of my ear. “If you’ve changed your mind about doing this—”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s not that…”
He groaned and pressed his hips against mine. His cock branded me through his jeans, hinting I wasn’t the only one struggling with right and wrong. “Feel that? I could climax right now. One touch from you and I’d cover you in cum.”
I shuddered.
I bit my bottom lip as his voice entered me, stroked me, made my entire body quiver.
How could I have this reaction with Victor in the room?
How could I even think about sex after what’d happened last night?
For a second, I feared my mind had snapped, and this was just another coping mechanism, but then Henri kissed his way along my jaw and captured my lips with his.
Everything fell away.
All of it.
My heart ached with a thousand bruises as he licked me.
The kiss wasn’t just a kiss but everything we couldn’t say and everything we would always mean.
I’m yours.
You’re mine.
I love you.
I’ll free you.
Teeth and tongue, breath and bliss.
He groaned as I nipped at his bottom lip. I moaned as he grabbed my bare breast.
For a moment, I let romance carry us away. Enchantment and passion blocked out the entire island, but as Henri’s hand skated from my hips and dove between my legs—as two fingers slipped exquisitely deep inside me and he stumbled as if my wetness completely undid him, I pulled away from his mouth and provoked the sinner he was.
He wouldn’t do this without trusting me. And he couldn’t trust me unless I played.
So…I played.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” I spat on the floor.
In my lust-hazy stare, Victor smirked across the room.
The more Victor thought I hated this—that I obeyed merely because of what I’d seen in the caves—the less he’d see the truth.
The truth that I was absurdly, alarmingly, absolutely in love with Henri freaking Mercer.
