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“Before we what?” I asked, bemused.

His eyes were too much. Just ruinous. I looked down. “You can always get the rage out of your system another way,” he told me softly. The timbre of his voice sent shivers down my spine.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I muttered.

“I would,” he said instantly.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re moody?”

“Look who’s talking.”

He had a point. It was a fact that he drove me out of my mind.

“Want to see something?” he asked me as he opened the door to his quarters, handing me in with his warm palm on the small of my back, leading me back to his bedroom.

“I’ve heard that before,” I said.

“Not that. Want to see something you haven’t seen before?”

“Absolutely.”

“Eyes on me. Now. Watch.”

He said it in a count, like he was hypnotizing me.

I couldn’t take my gaze away from him. I was enthralled.

I blinked one time, and suddenly the room was changed. Rearranged in some subtle way my mind couldn’t catch. Also, my robe was gone, and I stood there in nothing but my gold bikini.

Dom was in the same spot, but I knew somehow he had moved.

“What did you do?”

“I’ll try again. See if you can catch it this time.”

“Wait,” I said but I’d already missed it again.

Again, he was in the same spot, my bikini top in his hands. My nipples were sensitive and wet like he’d been sucking on them. I watched him watching me as things low in my stomach clenched. “How?”

“You don’t want to guess?” He smiled, his discordant eyes wicked. “Shall I show you again?”

I licked my lips. “Do your worst,” I told him.

This time I had moved. I was naked in bed, legs spread. Dom was standing over me. He wore white druid robes now, open down the middle and showing a delicious strip of flesh. I followed it down with my eyes, from his collar, to his chest, down his abs, and then stopped. “What is happening?” I asked, a little dazed.

“I’ll show you. It’s better this way, trust me. Have you guessed what I’m doing?”

“I haven’t, but if it was anyone else doing this, I’d be terrified.”

“Watch me,” he said.

He did it again and this time he was kneeling between my legs, still in his robes, and he had what looked like a delicate paintbrush. He was etching runes into my belly, his face intent.

“What’s happening?” I asked him, feeling disoriented. “How are you doing this?”

“I slowed time.”

“What? You can do that?”