Dominating Red
by Kristin Miller
 
Copyright © 2016 by Kristin Miller. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
 

Chapter One

Ivy

Arcana Wolf Pack

Somewhere in the Pacific Northwest

“Try and make yourself comfortable, Miss Douglas.” The guard readjusts the velvet blindfold covering my eyes. Lumbering around my chair, he checks the rope binding my wrists by giving them a good tug. The bonds are tight without cutting off circulation—a simple reminder that I cannot leave until the Alpha releases me. “You can relax.”

Riiiiight.

“Easy for you to say, buddy,” I force out. “You’re not the one tied up like a lamb waiting for slaughter.”

“Slaughter? Nah, he won’t go that far. But if Lukas is in the mood, you might be in for a beating.”

A small part of me wants this, I remind myself. Why does the soft, curious voice in the back of my head seem to get me in trouble every time?

Yesterday, I might not have minded being seduced by the Alpha of the Arcana Wolf Pack. He does appear to be the total package: tall, dark, and handsome with an aura of unwavering dominance. But a few hours ago, when I sought fresh air in the castle’s enchanted garden, I found something—someone—else.

Reaper.

The Omega’s eldest grandson and Lukas Black’s cousin.

My blood flashes with lust as his name streaks through my head.

He descended on me like a storm, melting my defenses with the blazing heat of his mouth and his hands. One look into his mysterious onyx eyes and I went from prude to harlot in two sexual-encounters flat. I don’t regret it, not for a second. He’s scorching hot and impulsive and has possessed my body, taking me over the edge more times than I can count. My brain is still mush, my thoughts still trying to wrap around the fact I had sex with a stranger. Not to mention Mr. Sexy as Hell is the rightful Alpha to the wolf pack.

But, as usual, I have terrible luck. Reaper is gone. Vanished from my world as mysteriously as he’d come. He walked—no, he freaking jumped, actually—out of my life.

My chest tightens, but I force a deep, labored breath to fill my lungs.

Truth is, I may never see Reaper again.

And I have to choose a mate at midnight.

It can’t be him.

Even if he hadn’t taken off on me, Reaper refuses to be mated until he avenges his parents’ deaths by hunting down their murderer. Until that day dawns, he insists on remaining as single as they come. All of this boils down to the fact that the hottest guy under the sun—aside from Ryan Gosling, because, um, have you seen him lately?—is off-limits.

“Oh, wonderful. A lamb tied up for a beating.” I let the sarcasm flow as the irony of my situation cuts deep. “I feel better already.”

As the guard chuckles, his warm, sticky breath hits my cheek. “You smell good. Like a woman.”

Oh, this one’s been struck with the stupid stick. “That’s great,” I tease, “because I’d hate to smell like sweat and engine grease and blow my cover.”

Joking aside, I’m relieved to hear him say that I smell good because, well, that means the shower I was allowed a few minutes ago erased other sinfully delicious scents from my skin.

But I can’t think about that—about Reaper. Not right now. No matter how impossible it seems, I have to push him out of my head.

The dopey guard stalks away behind me, his footsteps pounding over the hardwood. “The Alpha will be here shortly. But in case I don’t get to tell you later, congratulations. You’re one lucky woman.”

I repress the urge to let out a sheepish bleat of distress. My twisted sense of humor would be lost on the guard, who seems to have the mental capacity of a log, and I fear comic relief will only take me so far. No matter what I do, tension will remain knotted in my stomach as tight as the ropes on my wrists.

“Thanks?” I say instead, and instantly chastise myself.

“No problem. Guess it’s good to be king…” He opens the chamber door, letting in a draft that ruffles the bottom of my cloak. “You’re the hottest one yet.”

There are so many things wrong with that statement, my old self would smack the shit out of me for being here. There have been other women—hot ones, apparently—tied up in the Alpha’s chamber before me. And there will be others after I leave. I’m not stupid enough to think I’m the only one. And I’m not trying to escape because, despite the logic screaming at me to run hard and fast, the Alpha has awakened something inside me.

The door clicks shut, and I’m alone in the silence with nothing but my thoughts, as dark and confusing as they are.

How had everything changed in such a short amount of time?

January’s Wolf Moon still hangs high in the sky, and in an hour, when the clock strikes midnight, I will stand with a lineup of other pre-shifters and declare my loyalty to the Arcana Wolf Pack. My parents were werewolves, but died before they could teach me the ins and outs of shifting. Bottom line? I need a pack for guidance and protection, and it was my mother’s dying wish for me to join this one.

Talk about parental pressure.

I’m twenty-five years old and have yet to shift for the first time. This is the last January Wolf Moon before the wolf part of me takes over, and my last chance to earn their protection.

I thought I could handle joining a pack, but the Arcana werewolves have strange traditions. Earlier tonight, the Alpha requested each of the women to meet him in his private chamber before the ceremony. He wanted to look us over, ask questions, and then have his way with one of us before we’re mated to another.

One woman would be chosen. The Alpha’s choice.

Me.

The other pre-shifting women were nearly wetting themselves at the prospect of being chosen by Lukas Black. They talked of nothing but his regal nature, deep, raspy voice, and sexually deviant ways. After meeting him one time, I can see why. I can’t deny that I had been caught up in his sex appeal, too, but I didn’t sign up for the kink show. The ropes and blindfolds aren’t me.

Well, if I’m honest with myself, my hesitation isn’t only about the bondage. Someone else—someone I can’t have—won’t get out of my head.

“Hello, Ivy,” a voice says from behind me. The words are spoken quietly, slowly, and my spine straightens in response. It’s him. I recognize the gravelly sound of the Alpha’s voice from when I spoke to him before. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

The door closes, and anticipation whirls through my veins, chilling the skin beneath my crimson robe. I go completely still.

Will he push himself on me, or respect my boundaries as he did when I met him in his private chamber the first time? The uncertainty is killing me.

“You’re shivering.” He’s beside me now, crouching, bracing himself on the arm of the chair. Even though I can’t see his blazing onyx eyes as they search my face, I can feel their heat and intensity. “Let’s see if I can warm you up.”

As the air freezes in my lungs, I wait for a blanket or his hands to cover me. If I could only see, it would make everything better. It would soothe the ache of curiosity building up inside of me. Footsteps thunder around my chair. A match strikes to my left. The soft smell of smoke tingles my nose.

He’s lighting the hearth.

Out of instinct, I tug at my hands. The rope won’t give, but the urge to escape claws at my insides.

“I know this is different than the last time we met,” Lukas says, stalking around my chair, brushing his hand over my shoulder. I can almost imagine him as I saw him last: striding confidently across the hardwood, his stark-white dress shirt pulling tight over his muscles, his slacks bulging over his obviously impressive groin. “But I only get you for an hour. I don’t plan on wasting time with useless words.”

He couldn’t have been more right. This time was different than the last. Night and day, actually. When we were alone before, we talked about my parents, my mother’s wish for me to join his pack, my old home in San Diego, and my hesitation to bond with an unknown mate at midnight. Throughout our talk he exuded raw sexual power, captivating me instantly.

Fear didn’t freeze the blood in my veins the way it did now.

“Why can’t I see you?” I force confidence into my tone, but it sounds strange to my ears. “Don’t you think this might go more smoothly if you removed the blindfold?”

“The blindfold stays.” His voice is firm and commanding, and it comes from my right, near his four-poster bed. Mirrors cover the ceiling, I remember. He’s kinky.

I struggle to recall the stories I heard during the rehearsal. One pre-shifter said Lukas is into bondage and domination. Another said he blurs the lines between pleasure and pain. A third said he doesn’t like to come at all, preferring instead to watch others reach orgasm. I don’t know what to believe—none of them have ever been chosen, so how would they know?

“Do you remember our talk about the proper way to drink brandy?” he says, as the sound of liquid sloshing into a glass hits my ears. “The way you can savor the drink if you experience it from afar? You let the scent consume you before you’ve had the first sip, so that when you finally submit, the taste is heightened, and you drown in sensation.”

My mouth dries as memories of our first encounter rush to the surface of my mind. He taught me to taste brandy in the most erotic way. And when he licked drops of the fine liquor from my lips, I almost came from the feather-light brush of his tongue alone. Our first meeting had been…mesmerizing. There had been a connection—one I couldn’t deny. It’s not as strong as the pull I felt toward—no. I won’t finish the thought and torture myself this way.

I need a mate to be accepted into the Arcana Wolf Pack. If Reaper is M.I.A. and the Alpha is interested in me, why shouldn’t I allow myself to be lost in this moment with him?

But what does Lukas plan to do with me now that he has me here?

“You are going to experience pleasure as never before,” he whispers into my ear in answer to my thoughts. “While in my possession, you will be gripped by the most intense orgasms of your life. Believe me when I say the blindfold is for your benefit.”

Oh God. I shudder at the candor of his words, at the anticipation and exhilaration of what’s to come. If orgasms are being dished out, I want second helpings. But from Lukas? I’m tense. Worried. Not in my right mind.

“But before you beg me to fuck you,” he goes on, “you’re going to tell me exactly what you want, step by step.”

“Perfect. At the moment, I want my hands freed,” I say, my lips twisting as I work out a plan. He has to let me go. Then, if he crosses the line, touching me when or where I don’t want, at least I’ll have a fist to clock him with. “And then you can take this blindfold off.”

“I thought you might say that,” he says, chuckling tightly. His lips are totally kissable—his lower lip fuller than the top—and I can’t help but envision them behind my closed lids. I track his voice as he comes closer and kneels in front of me. A low sipping sound lets me know he’s drinking. Loosening up. “But keeping those on, at least for the time being, is my only requirement.”

“Figures.”

“You’re going to be pleased with this arrangement in the end, Ivy. You’ll see.” He pauses and then asks, “Don’t you trust me?”

“Are you crazy?” I blurt out on a laugh. “I don’t know you. How could I possibly trust you?”

Shit. I’ve just insulted the Alpha of the pack. Probably not the smartest move. I swallow down my laughter and plaster a frown on my face.

He takes another slow sip of his drink. “That’s why I like you, Ivy. It’s your mouth that caught my special attention. You have no filter, and you’re not afraid to speak your mind, even when you’re addressing me. It’s a rare quality in the pack. You’re different from the other women here.”

Silence lingers for so long, I almost forget he’s kneeling at my feet. But when my cheek burns from the heat of his stare, I’m reminded that I’m still under his intense scrutiny.

“Now you’re going to tell me what you want—every detail.” His tone is laced with promises of dark, dirty deeds, and my chest blooms with warmth. “I’m not going to touch you anywhere you don’t want me to, Ivy. I’ll follow your every command.”

Whoa. “You’re putting me in control of what happens?”

“I am.”

“What if I don’t want you to touch me anywhere? What if I only want to talk for the next hour?”

“Talk,” he parrots, as if he doesn’t believe me. “That’s fine. If the only thing you want from me after the next few minutes is good conversation, that’s what we’ll have. But you have my word that before the hour is through, you’ll be begging for release.”

Despite his cockiness about how things will proceed, my heartbeat returns to its natural rhythm and my lungs fill with a generous breath of air. Out of all the things he can give me, only one can make me have that reaction. Consent. From the Alpha—the only one in the castle who can take what he wants, when he wants it.

The paradox of the situation strikes a chord deep within me, and I like him. More than I should. I mean, he is undeniably sexy. And smart. A natural leader with charisma to spare. Kissable lips. Strong jaw. Formidable build.

“I thought—” I begin, but catch myself, shaking my head. “Forgive my bluntness, but a few of the other pre-shifters said you were the one who likes to be in control.”

“I’ve heard the rumors, and some of them are true. But what many people think they understand about control is erroneous.” His voice is so low it’s nearly a whisper. “Those who think they have it usually don’t, and those who believe they’ve never had it at all, have usually possessed it all along. You, my dear sweet Ivy, fall into the second category. You have far more control over what happens here than you realize.”

There is the man I met earlier—the one who was smooth and confident and piqued my interest. Although I don’t know how far tonight will go, I feel much more comfortable than I did before, when I’d been bound by his guards and dragged in against my will.

“You have no idea how enticing you are.” Lukas’s breath fans over my cheek as he leans on the arm of the chair and hovers over me. I can nearly taste the brandy on his lips, and it’s more tantalizing than I care to admit. “It’s one of your finest qualities, actually. You are a powerfully sexual creature—one who hasn’t been unleashed yet.” I imagine his clean-shaven jaw, razor-sharp cheekbones, and inviting mouth as he pauses. “But soon you will see your true potential.”

As tension balloons between us, the air crackles with intensity. Heat from his body radiates through mine, and I’m keenly aware that he’s waiting for something. A command, maybe?

“I’m in control?” I ask hesitantly.

“You are.”

“Will you sit at my feet?” To give me space to think and breathe.

“No, sweet Ivy. Command me.”

Swallowing down my fear, I blink against the velvet sash. “Sit at my feet.”

He moves from my side, and I’m cold without his muscular frame leaning over me. The bottom of my cloak pulls, as if he’s sitting on the hem. But then he shifts his weight again, and the fabric jerks free.

There.

I have space to breathe and slow things down. My heart races, and blood pounds through my veins, and I’m not even sure what’s come over me. I’m flushed. Fevered. Almost hoping his hands will grip my trembling flesh.

“What are you looking for in a mate, Ivy?” Lukas’s voice is low and even, and as he speaks my name, he parts the cloak at my knees.

Shyness rattles through me as he exposes my legs from my thighs to my bare feet. “I thought you said you wouldn’t touch me unless I asked you to.”

“I’m not touching you. I’m opening your cloak.”

But he’s not going to stop there. How far will he want to go? Will he want to strip me down naked and take me on his giant bed? Pleasure me on the chair, or plunge his hard length into me in front of the fire, the way Reaper had earlier tonight?

God, Reaper.

He’s so different from his cousin, it’s staggering. Lukas might have relinquished control for the time being, but when I’m with Reaper there is no control. At all. Our connection is carnal and raw and undeniable. Lukas may be handsome and powerful, tempting me in ways I can’t explain, but it’s different, a slow burn rather than a passionate explosion, but intoxicating just the same.

A cool breeze sweeps up my legs—all the way up—dragging me back to the moment. From Lukas’s position on the floor, can he see…everything?

“What are you looking for in a mate?” he repeats, and this time, he ghosts his hand over my calf. He’s not touching me—not really. But I can feel the warmth of his palm as it hovers over my leg. The hint of his caress sweeps up my calf, over my knee, between my thighs. “Someone who can protect you?”

I shiver from head to toe. My heart drums wildly against my rib cage as I anticipate the feel of his hand. With a silent moan, I part my legs ever so slightly so he can continue his seduction.

Damn it, no.

I clamp my mouth shut and squeeze my thighs together. But I can’t ignore that my legs are quivering from the ghost of his touch. After sleeping with Reaper tonight, I shouldn’t be having a reaction to Lukas at all. But my body betrays me, rushing heat to my cheeks and wetness between my legs.

“No, I don’t need my mate to protect me.” I lick my lips to return their moisture, and feel his stare hone on my tongue as it lingers in the corner of my mouth. “I can get protection from the pack if I need it.”

“My pack,” he corrects as the chair shifts with his weight. He braces himself over me, resting his hands on either side. He’s careful not to touch me, but his spicy, masculine scent fills my nose until I can smell nothing but his natural fragrance. His cheek is softly grazing mine, and his lips are near my ear, and the closeness is driving me crazy. “Are you looking for stability?”

His voice is low and luscious, and I ache to hear him speak again. My eyelashes flutter against their cover as my heart pounds in a fierce rhythm.

My body wants him, even if my mind is gently tapping the brakes.

Has he had super-secret Alpha powers bestowed on him or something? Stronger than a dozen men. Faster than a speeding train. Melts defenses with a single smoldering glance. Seriously, I should be able to resist his charms but…I can’t.

And then something clicks, deep down inside me, and I fear I’ve known the truth all along.

I don’t want to resist him.

“No, stability is boring,” I say, though my voice pushes out in a purr. Against my control, I turn my cheek toward his, to increase the pressure, to feel the warmth of his face against mine. “I crave excitement and adventure.”

He anticipates the turn of my cheek and retreats to the other side, fanning hair away from my neck with a slow exhale. My body shivers from the promise of his touch and his mouth. Every one of his moves is insanely erotic, making me completely forget that I’m at his mercy with bound hands and no sight. His mouth hovers over my neck, a hairbreadth away from my skin.

“I can give you those things.” He whispers the words into my mouth as my lips part in a breathy sigh. “Excitement. Adventure. Sex. Everything you crave and more.”

God, yes. Please. The words nearly burst through me as I’m lost in a maelstrom of red-hot sensation.

“If it’s not protection you seek in a mate,” he says, pulling back the cloak as it falls around my bare breasts. He groans as cold air draws my nipples tight. “And it’s not stability…” His head descends to my chest. His lips skate over my nipples and float over my skin, threatening to circle my pebbled flesh. I arch into his mouth, craving pressure, tugging at the ropes binding my wrists and holding me to the chair. He makes a dismissive sound and pulls back, leaving me cold. “Then what are you searching for?”

“Passion. Plain and simple and in every aspect of my life.”

“Oh, sweet Ivy, I can give you that, too.”

He strips away my cloak completely, and the sound of tearing stitches rips the breath from my lungs. I’m bare. Vulnerable. He can see every trembling inch of me. My breath comes up shallow, and liquid heat pools between my legs. With the force of a bolt of lightning I remember that I have the control.

And I have to feel him and taste him, to see if the anticipation has built all of this up in my head. I can’t fight it anymore.

“Kiss me,” I force out.

I expect brutal contact—an assault on my lips that will match the war raging within me. But it doesn’t come. Instead, he lets out a pained moan as his lips graze mine. He parts his delicious mouth for my tongue to sweep inside. My body explodes with electricity as he matches me stroke for stroke. I writhe in the chair and fight against my bonds, kissing him fiercely. He holds back with iron-clad restraint, keeping his hands off my body as it shivers with desire.

He sucks on my tongue, pulls it into his mouth, and I can feel the rising need inside him as I slant my head to deepen the kiss. Without the use of my eyes, every other sense has come alive. I’m in tune with the air punching out of his lungs, the sound of our lips sliding against one another, and the heady taste of the brandy on his tongue.

“You want more,” he breathes against my mouth as he pulls away. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

I can’t help but open up for him and silently beg for his touch. I feel drugged and lost in some kind of lust-filled haze. One thing I know for certain: Lukas has an indescribable sexually-charged charisma, a liquid-sex voice, and raw, unbridled-power. I recognize his magnetism fully now, as passion sweeps through me, tugging on something in my middle.

“Suck.” Blindly, I arch up, lifting my breasts into the open air, begging to feel the lash of his tongue against my nipples. “Hard.”

A growl erupts from deep within his chest as he lowers himself over me. I’m suspended. Weightless. Awaiting his touch. And then his mouth covers my breast and I’m jolted back to life, sparked with desire, burning under the cruelty of his mouth. He does what I commanded of him, sucking and pulling at my nipple until I’m crying out in pleasure and pain, and they’re mixed together, driving my hips off the chair.

“Lower.” Flames of desire lick across my skin and shoot between my legs. “Kiss me.”

Moving to my other breast, he sucks relentlessly and then gently rakes my nipple between his teeth. As pleasure spikes through my core, he lowers his mouth to my stomach and smudges a line of fevered kisses on my right hipbone, and then my left. He stalls there as my fever pitches, and I’m scrambling toward release.

“No, lower.” I yearn to claw my fingers over his skull-trim hair, grab the back of his head, and direct him between my legs. “I ache.”

“Tell me to tease your clit with my tongue.” The huskiness of his voice is so erotic, I nearly come from its rumble over my skin. “Tell me to eat your pussy.”

I’m shaking, breathing hard, my hips sliding over the seat as they reach toward his voice. I can’t go any further, have pulled the ropes as far as they will allow. In the darkness, I can visualize the way Lukas looks as he balances over me, his hungry gaze cutting through the shadows as he licks his lips and prepares to devour me with his tongue.

I open my mouth to repeat the exact words he’d said, but they won’t come. I’m not this person—the one who is verbal during sex. I’m not shy, to say the least, but I’m not vocal. Not this way. I mean, I’ve said a few things in the heat of the moment, but nothing like that.

“I—I can’t.”

“You will before I’m through with you. Spread your legs,” he says, and I do what I’m told, quivering. “Do you want my tongue on you, sliding over your clit?”

I nod quickly, biting my lower lip as the heat from his mouth radiates over my swollen flesh. I’m throbbing, aching, desperate.

“God, your sex smells so good.” He blows softly over my girly bits, sending a shudder tingling through me. The sound of a zipper echoes through the silence, followed closely by the sound of shifting weight over the floor. He’s shoving down his pants. “Do you want my tongue here?” He blows again, and this time his breath is hot and moist and forces my eyes closed behind the blindfold. “Say it.”

“Lick me.” Any rational thoughts that might’ve been lingering in my head are obliterated. Blown away. My hips rear off the seat, fighting to reach his mouth and sweet release. “Right there.”

His tongue flicks out over my clit, one slow drag through my heat, and I sag against the chair as a desperate moan escapes my lips.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, licking through my folds. “Do you want more?”

“More,” I sigh, shuddering from the pure ecstasy of it all. “Don’t stop.”

On a groan, he spears my heat with his tongue and feasts on my clit, teasing and swirling until I’m arching back against the chair and bucking off the seat. Passion rises up like a wave, drowning me in sensations I’ve never known. I want him inside me, stretching me, his shaft pulsing against the walls of my sex. Even if I don’t know him, even if this will be over in an hour and I’ll never see him again, I need him inside me as much as air in my lungs and blood in my veins.

He growls as he pulls back, detaching from my core with a hot kiss. “With a pussy as sweet as yours, you’re always in control. Able to get whatever you want, whenever you want it.” He licks once. Twice. A slow, thick line through my center. “You want to come for me, don’t you, Ivy?”

A soft mewling sound escapes my lips as his tongue lingers over my clit.

“Tell me you want my finger inside you.”

“Please. Your finger. Inside.” It’s all I can muster in my delirious, sex-drunk haze. “Please, Lukas.”

On command, he plunges two fingers into my heat and curls them inside me, moaning as his palm meets my mound. His breathing quickens as if he’s ready to topple over the edge, and as he speeds his pace, his thumb swirls over my pleasure spot. He’s pounding all the way in, but it’s not deep enough. I spread my legs wider and arch into the chair as my hips begin to roll.

“That’s the way.” His voice is husky and filled with desire. “Tell me it’s not enough.”

“It’s not”—I gasp as tension coils in my middle—“enough.”

He thrusts his fingers deep. “Where do you want me to come?”

My hips undulate against his hand as my head falls back and a moan rips from the deepest part of me. I’m so close. Right there. The walls of my sex tremble, milking his fingers as they work me.

“On your tits?” The sound of his hand sliding over his shaft hits my ears, and as I focus on the fevered tempo, my own arousal spikes. He’s getting off to my pleasure, and the thought alone is beyond erotic. “Or in your pussy?”

I can’t speak. Desire robs me of my vocabulary as I’m gripped by carnal need. Tension builds, tightening every muscle in my body. And when his tongue slides through my heat, swirling in time with the fevered thrust of his fingers, I shatter apart, crying out as the hardest-hitting orgasm of my life rocks through me.

“Tell me where you want me.” He’s wound tight, his voice deepened with passion. “Tell me, and I’ll take you there again.”

As my center clenches and pulses, I gasp, fighting for air. “You…”

“Where?” He groans, and I know he’s close to his own release. “Tell me.”

“Lukas…” I can’t finish. The orgasm won’t let me go—it grips his finger as it plunges inside me, and there’s no end in sight. I’m crazed. Screaming. Writhing in pleasure as it tears through me.

With a guttural cry, his palm slams against my hips and his fingers drive deep. And as he screams my name into the darkness, he releases himself over my stomach and breasts, marking my skin. I fall back against the chair, breathless and weightless. Delirious. The room is filled with our heady scent—the mixing of my arousal and his release—and it stirs something inside me. Something that makes me crave to do it all over again, right from the beginning.

Wild and impulsive sex is one thing, but this—it’s so much more than I thought it would be. The anticipation heightened everything, and something tells me Lukas always knew it would. The burn of ecstasy is still simmering in my blood, firing up my senses, and my cravings are far from extinguished.

“You’re something else,” he says, as clothing rustles in front of me. He swipes something soft across my stomach and breasts to clean the mess. “Unlike anyone who has stepped foot in my chamber before.”

It strikes me that he’s getting dressed. Ending our time together. And I’m oddly saddened by the thought. My shoulders slump, though I raise my chin toward his voice.

“You can take this off now,” I say, closing my legs to hide the slickness lingering there. “And the ropes.”

“As you command.”

He removes the ropes first, and then peels the blindfold from my eyes. It’s dark, and the space is dimly lit by candlelight. A fire crackles beside me, fanning heat into the chamber. My cloak falls to either side of my chair, exposing me completely, as I’d thought. In front of me, an empty brandy glass sits near a pile of Lukas’s crumpled clothes.

Clutching the cloak around my shoulders, I stand and spin around, meeting his eyes. He’s standing behind me, arms at his sides, his enormously thick length bobbing in front of him. God, he’s huge.I’ve had other men who were generous in the dick department, but he’s—colossal.

As I stare disbelievingly, my mouth falling open, I realize one solid thrust from his Olympic-sized cock will stretch my delicate skin to the max. I know it from sight alone. Still, I can’t help but want to give it a try.

“Now that I’ve smelled you,” he says, stepping closer and jerking my cloak down my arms, “tasted you, and sampled you…” With a hungry gleam in his eye, he grasps my breasts in both hands and begins kneading roughly. “I’m going to consume you completely and wring every last orgasm from your body. I’m going to leave you empty and drained, a hollow sack of bones under melted muscle.”

I’m the brandy, I realize with a shudder.

And I suddenly don’t care that he’s taken women before me. I want nothing more than the Alpha to feast on me for the rest of the hour, and I’m on board with whatever that means. I don’t know what’s come over me, but the burning need to touch him is scorching across my skin like wildfire. Every cell in my body has come alive with the desire to smell him, lick him, and stroke him until he’s straining with the force of his release.

“Lie down,” he growls, and I do what he says, leaving my cloak on the floor behind me. “I’m in control this time.”

My clit throbs in anticipation as I shuffle onto the bed and lay back. Looking up, I stare at my reflection in the mirror fastened to the ceiling as lust stirs in my belly. What will Lukas look like when he’s bracing himself over me, his back muscles flexing and twitching as he drives deep?

I can’t wait to find out.

He descends over the top of me, poising the blunt head of his shaft at my entrance. Curious how we look together, I glance up, gasping at the sight of his sculpted back muscles as two hard knocks pound against his chamber door.

“Go away,” he bites out, dragging his attention from my breasts. “I’m not finished with her yet.” When his eyes meet mine again, determination burns in their dark depths. “Ivy, by the time the ceremony starts and you’re bonded to another, you won’t have any passion left to give him. I will have taken it all.”

God, he makes himself out to be a giver—of brandy and pleasure alike—but he’s a master at taking.

“Sir,” a gruff voice hollers back. “I wouldn’t disturb you unless this was important. The Omega requests a word with you in her chamber.”

He pulls back, licking a hot line down my neck as he dismounts. “The whole goddamn castle better be on fire.”

“She wants to talk to you about your cousin. She says it’s urgent.”

“Damn it.” Exhaling heavily, he nails me to the bed with an impassioned glare. “Don’t move your sexy ass one inch. I’ll be back.”

And then, after wrapping himself in a black silk robe, he exits the chamber, leaving me alone with a hollow ache between my legs and a hard pounding of my heart.