I’ve had more conversations with Vance than with any other man in this tower. I told him about my years with Faye before my parents died, detailing the mischief we used to get into, and the freedom we had to roam the halls, imaginations our only guide.
Turns out Vance has an older sister that lives off the island with her husband—a world-famous cardiothoracic surgeon that inspired him to go into medicine after he graduated from basic studies. It surprised me to learn that Vance turned twenty-nine today, though he doesn’t look a day over twenty-five.
Lilith is a year younger, which means Sebastian fell for an older woman during his teenage years. Lilith and Sebastian’s age difference never fully sank in until I watched her interact with the doctor these past couple of days.
They seem to mix like Sebastian and I do—with passion and anger coalescing into an explosive combination.
Housekeeping arrives for clean-up duties, and I return to my bedroom to freshen up. After taking a shower and drying my hair, I head for the closet and stall on the threshold.
No clothes, he said, but every atom of my body wants to hide my skin. As a compromise, I pull on a silk knee-length robe before padding out of my room on bare feet. Nervous flutters erupt in my stomach as I approach his domain.
Vance left the right door ajar, and I push it all the way open to find him standing in the nude, his blond hair falling around his shoulders. There’s no denying he’s a beautiful man, with a smattering of hair on his chest and strong biceps gained from lifting weights in the gym every morning before he leaves for work.
“Come in,” he says, those deep-set eyes roaming over every inch of me. “And take off your robe.”
I step into a spacious sitting room decorated in warm, dark tones and furnished in chocolate leather. Recessed lighting casts a forbidden edge over the windowless space. Mirrors hang on the walls, and the furnishings are rich and oddly shaped—designed in a way that makes me think of sensuality. In subtle ways, the room reminds me of the dungeon on the ground floor of the tower, though less intimidating in comparison.
As I take off my robe and place it on a hook by the entryway, I’m fearful and fascinated in equal amounts.
He crooks a finger. “Come here, my queen.”
My breasts sway as I go to him, and the desire in his gaze intensifies. He takes my hand and leads me to a wave-shaped lounge.
“Sit.” With a gentle shove, he sends me sprawling onto cool, pliable leather. The firm grip of his hands spread my legs until they dangle over the edges, knees bent. He grabs a familiar bottle from a companion table and pours the syrupy liquid into a teaspoon.
“Open,” he says, bringing the spoon to my mouth.
I dread losing control of my body again, but the previous months in this place conditioned me to obey. I part my lips for his concoction and swallow, and he follows with two more doses.
“Are you going to touch me?” I gaze up at him with apprehension squeezing my chest.
“It depends.” He glances between my thighs. “Do you want me to?”
“Don’t take this personally, but no.”
He smiles. “I know I’m not your choice, love. I’m okay with that.” Leaning over the lounge, he plants his hands on the cushion. “But I do very much want to taste your pussy.”
A hint of sweet tension grips me between the legs, and from my first experience with his elixir, I know it’ll only get more intense as the evening wears on.
I lick my lips. “This feels…sinful.”
“What does?”
“Sharing my body with so many men. It makes me feel dirty.”
“It’s your destiny.” He trails a hand up my belly, making my muscles quiver under his touch. “Instead of fighting it, maybe you should open your mind and enjoy it.” He circles my left nipple, and I gasp. “So I’ll ask you again, love. Do you want me to eat your pussy?”
Desire floods my core, and I squirm as my face heats. “I don’t want to say yes.”
“Then don’t.” With a grin, he crawls to the end of the lounge, face hovering over the spread of my thighs. “Let your body say it for you.”
He dips his head, hair tickling my flesh as his hot breath fans over my pulsing clit. With a whimper, I strain for what he’s offering, my body speaking the language of consent. His tongue teases and tastes, heightening the frustrating effects of his elixir because there’s no finish line for me tonight.
I’m at the mercy of his potent concoction and the deal he made with Sebastian. As the lion’s name echoes through my mind, I cry out, overcome by the wicked intensity between my legs.
“Please,” I gasp, desperation a hard-pressed coil inside me. Fisting my hands against the cushion, I tilt the angle of my hips, seeking more of his mouth. I’m moaning when a door bangs against the wall. We startle apart and find Lilith on the threshold of the room, hands on her hips and wrath painting her features.