She’s beautiful.

Too beautiful.

The thought is alarming, and possessive thoughts thrash at the surface of my mind.

Keep her. Keep her. Fucking keep her.

She slides her mouth off my cock and flashes me a smug smile. For her first blow job, she knows she nailed it. And I’m going to nail her.

But first . . .

“Are you hungry?”

Her brows furrow in confusion. “What?”

“Food, Cerys. Humans eat it. Want some?” I smirk at her as I offer her my hand.

She stands, and her small tits bounce with the movement. The girl thinks they’re something to be ashamed of. When I made a comment about the size, it wasn’t because I didn’t like them. It was simply stating a fact. They’re perfect. Little bite-sized nibbles of sweetness.

“Um, I thought . . .” She trails off and crosses her arms over her lovely breasts.

“Don’t worry, love,” I assure her. “I’m going to fuck you. But I told you I was going to savor you. If I were to pounce on you now and take that sweet virginity, it’d be over in a flash. I’d like to share a meal with you.”

She blinks at me as though I’ve lost my mind. I yank one of my T-shirts from my drawer and toss it at her. Then I slide on some sweatpants before calling room service. I order my favorites and then hang up.

She’s quiet but certainly curious. Her fingers flit along my furniture as she inspects decorations and framed photographs and art on the walls. “This is beautiful,” she tells me, pointing a slender finger at the wall.

“I bought it last summer in Venice. A small gallery off the beaten path. The person who painted this was blind. He wasn’t always that way, but an accident ruined his eyesight. His paintings are his way of converting what he still sees in his mind onto a blank canvas. Through his paintings, we see what we think he cannot see.” I close my eyes as I wrap my arms around her from behind. Her scent is mixed with mine, and I fucking love it. “I could recall every detail about you. I’d never need my eyes again, Cerys. You’ve burned yourself into my brain.”

“For how long? How long do you keep us? You were after Liv. I’m sure you pursue women often, because look at you. So how long will this go on for?” Her body is tense in my arms.

Gripping her hips through the thin material of my shirt, I twist her and press my body against hers, locking her against the wall. “I never keep them. They are for my momentary enjoyment. I get bored easily.”

She rolls her eyes and lets out a huff. “Maybe this was a mistake. I don’t know . . . I thought maybe this thing between us was intense and possibly lasting?”

Her innocence is a decadent treat dripping with need and the desire to be adored. I want to devour it whole.

“I’ve never been so utterly obsessed by someone upon meeting them.” I gently clutch her throat as my eyes bore into hers. “I’m not sure I’ll ever let you leave this room.”

She giggles, but I’m completely serious.

Her red-and-black hair. Her honey eyes. Her tiny tits and smooth-shaven cunt. It all looks really fucking good in my room. Like it belongs. And not like a fleeting thought, but like a memory etched in time and painted on a canvas that remains a permanent fixture on the wall.

I’m keeping her.

The buzzer rings, and I reluctantly pull away from her. Stalking through my home, I make my way to the door. A man with a cart pushes inside. He nods at me, and then he’s gone. Cerys bounces up beside me and starts lifting lids. I’m amused at her excitement over food. Stepping back, I let her dip and taste and babble on about how “oh my God, this is amazing” the foods are. I push the cart over to the table and unload it all. She sits on the edge of the table and eats right from the plate using her fingers, bypassing utensils altogether. Normally, this sort of rash behavior would unnerve me, but she distracts me. Blinds me in her dazzling beauty and ease.

“I’m not the type of girl to run off with a madman and do”—she waves her hand in the air— “this, you know?”

“This?” I implore, no longer hungry for food. I’m hungry for her plump lips and hard, little pink nipples poking through the fabric of the shirt.

“Careless, whatever this is.”

I watch her with narrowed eyes until I’m sure she’s had plenty to eat. Then, I grab her wrist and pull her off the table.

“Time to do more careless things, love.”

She laughs, but it’s nervous in nature. Once I get her naked again, her nerves won’t matter. Orgasms will matter.

When we’re back in my room, I practically rip my shirt in two trying to rid her of it. My sweatpants get lost next, and then I slide an arm around her narrow waist. I pick her up with my achingly hard cock between us and carry her to the bed. Together we go down. Her eyes are wide, and her fingernails dig into my shoulders as though she’s ready to draw blood if need be. I situate myself between her narrow thighs and rest my cock against her smooth cunt.

“Are you scared?” I murmur, my nose inches from hers.

She swallows and gives me a slight nod. “Kinda.”

“Scared I’ll hurt you?”

“In more ways than you know.”

“A little pain can be nice though,” I tell her. “A little pain makes you appreciate the pleasure. It’s a reminder that not everything is sweet.”

“I’m afraid . . .” She trails off and turns her head.

I grip her jaw and move her head until our eyes lock once again. “Afraid of my fat cock stretching you and making you bleed?” I arch a brow in question.

“More like afraid of you ripping my heart out and feeding on it,” she admits with a whisper.

I rub my cock between the lips of her pussy against her clit. “I don’t care about hearts,” I tell her with a frown. “Why would I want that?”

She blinks at me sadly. “Exactly.”

“I’m not a normal man,” I admit, my hips unrelenting as they rock against her.

“No shit?” she deadpans, her voice breathy.

“I don’t feel or think as one should. I’m not a romantic or even sweet.” Guilt surges up inside of me, and I hate the feeling. “If that is what you’re looking for . . .”

She laughs. “I wasn’t looking for anything. It found me, remember?”

Despite her laughter, her eyes are sad. Lonely. Longing and aching for connection. I’ve seen the despondent look in my own reflection at times. I don’t understand it, but I feel allured by it.

Her eyes dart past me toward the door, and I frantically think she might just up and leave. The thought is maddening, and it has me gripping her wrists to pin her to the bed. Wild amber eyes lock with mine, and her lips part. I rub and rub and rub my cock against her clit until she’s whimpering out another breathy orgasm. The condoms are in the drawer. So close.

“I need to put on a condom,” I bark out, irrationally angry at her for putting me under her spell.

“So do it.”

I pull away slightly and look between us. She looks too. My tip presses gently into her, barely so, much like my fingers from before.

“This is dangerous,” I warn.

“You’re dangerous,” she bites back.

Our eyes clash again. She is fiery and brave and curious and so goddamned trusting. If you bare your throat to a beast, he’s going to bite it. He’s going to exert his power over you.

“I could fuck you bare, girl. What do you think about that?”

Her challenging eyes narrow, and her nostrils flare. “I think you talk a lot.”

With a growl and a hard thrust of my hips, I drive into the tightest fucking cunt I’ve ever been inside of. Her screams—my God, how they’re loud—rival that of the roars of my own beastliness. She has claws. Fuck, how she has claws. And she uses them. Tears at the flesh of my arms as I drive into her again.

She’s driven me to madness.

I’m not myself in this woman’s presence.

I’m not wild and free.

She has caged me.

It is me who bares his throat and she who stakes claim over me.

My, how the roles have reversed.

“James,” she utters, two tears leaking out of the corner of each of her eyes.

Leaning forward, I dart my tongue out and lick one of them from her temple. “I know, Cerys. I feel it too.”