"Let's begin," he murmured, his voice low, raw, and devastatingly gentle.
And I—
I stopped breathing.
Because I knew the moment those words left his lips, nothing about me would ever be the same again. Not my body. Not my mind. Not my soul. He wasn't just going to take me—he was going to claim me. Break me open and rewrite the meaning of what it meant to belong.
I didn't know what I was trembling from—fear, anticipation, or the devastating knowledge that he was going to brand me from the inside out. Roughly. Thoroughly.
Permanently.
My mouth went dry. Well, drier. I swallowed hard, and the sound felt like a thunderclap in the silence between us. He leaned over me again, dark eyes dragging across my face like he was memorizing it. Or maybe studying how best to ruin it.
"Spread your legs, my boy."
My breath caught.
God.
