Page 112

Blood and fluid spill down Troy’s face as a ragged scream tears from his throat.

Zevran drags him across the room like a sack of garbage and shoves him into the chair in the corner. In swift movements, Zevran pulls zip ties tight around Troy’s wrists, binding him to the chair legs until they bite into the bone.

“You don’t ever get to look at her again,” Zevran growls, his voice dripping with authority. “Your seeing days are done. This woman belongs to me.”

Troy whimpers in the corner, blind and bound.

I wait for the horror to arrive and my stomach to turn. What I feel instead is cool, fierce quiet. The door to my past has been slammed shut and locked forever.

Zevran returns to the bed. He drops to his knees on the mattress, taking my face in both of his big, warm hands. His forehead rests against mine.

“Printsessa,” he whispers roughly. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

He kisses me, and this time there is no restraint. He kisses me like a man who has been starving for hours, his hand sliding up to grip my throat possessively, tilting my head back to the exact angle he wants.

I reach for his shoulders, my fingers digging into his muscle.

He pulls back just far enough to look at me, his chest heaving, his pale eyes blazing in the dim light. In one smooth motion, he grabs the hem of my oversized T-shirt and strips it over my head, tossing it aside.

His gaze moves over my bare skin, a king surveying territory that is indisputably his.

“Look at you,” he growls, his palm cupping my breast, his thumb sweeping over the hardened peak. “Mine. Every fucking inch.”

In the corner, Troy makes a choked, gurgling sound.

Dangerous heat sparks in my belly. Troy is right there. Blind, bound, and helpless, forced to listen to the man who rescued me take complete possession of my body. The sheer transgression of it doesn’t terrify me. It thrills me.

“Zevran,” I breathe, sliding my good hand down his chest, feeling the heavy thud of his heart. “Touch me.”

“Let him hear you,” Zevran commands, his voice dropping into a low, possessive rumble that makes my core ache.

Zevran lowers his head, dragging his mouth down my throat to my breast, sucking me deep into his mouth while his hand slides between my thighs. He parts my legs with authority, his long fingers seeking my wetness.

I moan, throwing my head back and letting the sounds I’m making fill the room.

“So slick for me,” he purrs against my skin, driving two fingers deep inside me to the knuckle.

I gasp, my hips arching off the bed into his hand. The sound I make is shameless, loud, and echoing in the quiet room. A sound Troy never once earned from me in almost a year of marriage.

Zevran works his fingers inside me, deep and rhythmic, watching my face while Troy whimpers helplessly in the corner.

“Tell him who you belong to,” Zevran demands. “Say it loud, printsessa. Let him hear it.”

“You,” I cry out, abandoning every shred of shame. I tilt my head back, my voice ringing clear and triumphant through the room. “I’m yours, Zevran. Only yours.”

Zevran lets out a low, predatory growl.

“That’s right. Mine. Every inch of you.”

He withdraws his fingers, unzips his jeans, and frees his cock. He’s rock hard with veins standing out stiffly along his length. He doesn’t ease in. He pushes between my thighs and drives his cock all the way inside me in one deep thrust that seats his hips flush against mine.

I scream his name, a sharp, glorious sound of surrender.

He freezes there for a heartbeat, buried to the hilt, his hand framing my jaw, forcing me to look into his dark, burning eyes.

“Feel that?” he commands, his breath hot against my lips. “That is me inside you. That is where I stay.”

He sets a punishing, rhythmic pace that drives me back into the pillows with every stroke. His grip is marking me, reclaiming every inch of skin Troy ever tried to diminish.