My teeth unsheathed, biting her clit as I rocked my fingers deep. Her hips undulated against my face. I growled as she whimpered, her body releasing another silky wet welcome.
My tongue lavished every part of her. She tasted of citrus and frangipani from her bath that all goddesses had access to before serving in Euphoria. She smelled wild and ripe with need.
I thrust deeper into her, driving my fingers as far as they’d go. My knuckles pressed against her pussy lips. My tongue lashed and teeth teased.
And I broke her into pieces.
Her orgasm swelled and shattered in a single heartbeat. The force of it milked my fingers with tight pressure, rhythmic and primal. The beast inside me wanted to respond. It knew what the bands of muscles and the fading cries of Eleanor’s pleasure meant.
She was at the pinnacle of passion. She’d come, but that only made her more receptive, more open to deeper claiming, harder fucking, rougher connection.
She wasn’t pleasured.
She was primed.
Primed to be mounted and taken.
The thought of removing my fingers from her still pulsing body and removing my tongue from her delicious taste almost kept me locked on my knees, but the feral hunger to thrust my body into hers jerked my hand from between her legs and forced me to scramble upright.
She swayed in her harness. Eyes hazed and nipples hard. A trickle of her release glittered on her inner thigh.
As my hands went to my belt and undid the loop, I made yet another colossal mistake.
The worst one yet.
I allowed our eyes to lock.
I allowed myself to see.
To see the same thing in her that had grown unavoidable in me.
Something that shouldn’t exist. A demon that began in the heart and slowly ate its way through mind, sense, and soul.
Despite everything that I’d done. Despite our roles in each other’s lives…that demon had grown. Mirroring pieces that looked a lot like budding, unfurling, dangerous, treacherous love—
No.
No fucking way.
I backed away.
I tripped.
My phone alarm went off.
Announcing it was time for Eleanor to be fucked by Roy Slater.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I COULDN’T KEEP UP.
Two moments ago, Sully had his tongue between my legs, his touch inside me, and a blistering orgasm—invoked purely by emotion and connection, instead of that cursed elixir—had ricocheted through me.
Now, a stranger stood before me. A man with an unreadable face, black-blue eyes, and an ever blacker mood.
Wrenching the trolley to stop beside me, he opened the boxes he’d used during my first preparation for Euphoria.
My heart cracked as he poured oil into his hands and spread it over my body. Clinical and angry, no lingering over the parts of me that throbbed for his attention.
Once the oil gleamed, he inserted the earbuds, the eye lenses, the astringent scent under my nose, and made me swill with whatever magic that changed my sense of taste. His hands were icy as he clutched my fingers and placed the sensor pads on each. His nostrils flared as he ensured the harness that another one of his staff had placed on me was locked securely.
Part of me swelled with tears. The other part snarled with anger.
How dare he kiss me? How dare he bring me to an orgasm? How dare he drag feelings I didn’t want to face to the surface and then witness those feelings bobbing like a capsized boat in my eyes, waving a white flag in surrender, begging him to save me.
For a second, I’d thought he’d scoop me up and release me from my position of whore. I envisioned a conversation that unknotted the twisted, tightening, electrifying rope between us. I’d seen a mirroring boat in his gaze, packed full of similar feelings. But unlike mine offering surrender, his was a pirate ship ready to plunder.
Raking a hand through his hair, he refused to look at me as he stepped back and pulled up an app on his phone.
He’d prepared me so fast, I couldn’t see very well through the lenses. My vision hadn’t accepted them yet. My ears rebelled against the hushed world behind the buds. My fingers itched to feel truth not lies.
I didn’t want to go into Euphoria like this.
I didn’t want to go in at all.
I didn’t want another man to touch me after Sully had made me come.
It made me feel dirty and worthless. A coin passed from one billionaire’s pocket to another. Useless and unwanted.
With the app open, Sully placed his phone onto the trolley, then swallowed hard and pulled the dreaded vial from his pocket.
I cringed away, fighting against the imprisonment of the harness. “Sully…please. Don’t.” I searched his sea-blue gaze for any sign of what he’d shown before. Any hint that I might not be the only one drowning beneath such horrors. But his eyes were closed off, impenetrable, resolute.
Stepping into me, he pulled the stopper out and cupped the back of my head.