“Do you want me, goddess?”

“I’m not a goddess, Sullivan Sinclair; I am your wife.”

“Wife.” His dirty feet brought him closer, each step revealing just how high my plinth was, just how above himself he’d put me. “My forever after wife.”

“You saw me as untouchable.”

“I saw you as perfect.” He stopped at the bottom and looked up. His chin met my henna inked toes. His hands gripping the marble platform keeping me out of his reach. “I saw you as everything I wanted and everything I would never earn.”

“I’m not perfect.”

He nodded, reaching out to wrap his strong, filthy fingers around my impeccable ankle. “No, you’re not.” I moaned as he ran his hand as high as he could go, scraping nails to the back of my knee. “You’re so much fucking better than perfect.” Yanking me forward, he buckled my legs and caught me as I tumbled into his arms.

My opal dress ballooned around us, my hair obscured my vision, but his body was hard and safe against mine. His arms bunched as he swung me to the floor, placing me gently before him.

“You’ve made me the happiest man alive, Eleanor Sinclair.”

I blinked as he brushed aside my hair and cupped my cheeks. He trembled as he ran his thumb over my bottom lip.

“I will never stop loving you, worshipping you, thinking up delicious fucking ways to pleasure you.” He tilted my head to the side, exposing my throat so he could run his nose along my neck and dip along my collarbone. “Tonight, I wish to fuck you in every position. I want to make love to you until your voice is hoarse and your body is deliciously sore. I want to christen every chamber of this castle and wring your blood dry of countless orgasms.”

I moaned as he unsheathed his teeth, biting me with threatening strength. “There is just one catch, my darling wife.”

My brain tried to follow; I did my best to stop panting for more and focus on the ultimatum in his tone, but I struggled. He’d drugged me with words, and I was utterly ruined for more.

He chuckled as he captured my chin, his navy eyes glowing with self-loathing and heated hunger. “In order to pleasure you in the way you deserve on your wedding night, I have a request to ask.”

I swallowed and shoved back some of my drunkenness. “What request?”

He held up his hand, splaying open his palm.

Empty.

I frowned. “There’s nothing there.”

“There is, you just can’t see it with the fantasy. Touch it. We’re not wearing finger sensors so you’ll be able to feel it.”

Carefully, I ran my hand over the invisible item. My eyebrows drew together as I followed the tiny glass bottle along with the squishy dropper at the top. I didn’t recognise the shape, but sharp suspicions landed on my tongue. “Elixir?”

“No. Never that. Not again. I will never put you in such danger.” Pulling away, he opened the bottle and pressed the dropper to suck a few droplets of whatever tincture was inside. All his actions were a pantomime, manipulating an invisible thing. “This is cinta. A much lower dose than elixir. It merely provides stamina to the user and highlights lust already in their system. It’s been tested and proven safe.”

“I’m wet enough as it is.” I smiled. “I don’t need any help sleeping with my husband.”

“And I’m happy to hear it.” His face darkened. “It so happens, I am rock fucking hard and struggling with self-control but...I am still healing and...” He swallowed hard before rushing, “Please don’t think I’m requesting we take this because I can’t perform or that I’m not out of my mind with fucking lust for you. I am. I will gladly throw this away if you ask. But...I am under no illusions that I’m not at my top capacity yet. I won’t be able to give you what you deserve for as long as I want. I want to be able to use you without succumbing to this shitty weakness still inside me.”

Crowding me, he wrapped possessive fingers around my nape. “I want to be on my knees between your legs, Eleanor. I want to be inside you as you scream. I want you to remember this night as the start of our beginning and not be governed by my pain—”

“You’re in pain?” I flinched and tried to get away. “Then we’ll stop. We can wait—”

“Wait?” He chuckled coldly. “I can’t wait, Jinx. I’m going to be inside you in a few minutes, with or without help. I just wanted to be honest of my limitations and admit that I want you more than I can physically provide.”

I stared at him.

How was it that his honesty made me love him more than his assurances that he was invincible? It made me lust for him and also want to honour him. He stood in rags all while he’d given me every penny he’d ever earned—legally and illegally—and now, he’d given me his utmost trust.

Trust by admitting his pain instead of hiding it. Trust that he wanted more than he could give.

Silently, I opened my mouth.

“You sure?” He grunted.

I just kept my lips parted until his hand came up with its invisible contents and a single droplet of sour sugar hit my tongue.

Keeping eye contact, Sully dropped a dose into his own mouth before screwing the bottle shut and tossing it away. It had never been tangible in this fantasy and now bounced on a bed that we couldn’t see, rolling amongst boxes of Euphoria sensors in a villa by the sea.

I waited for the kick and hostile takeover of elixir.

My heart flurried with fear that I would once again be a prisoner in my own body.

However, Sully was right.

This time, it was a heatwave instead of an inferno. It began in my heart and travelled in my bloodstream to my clit. It smouldered instead of burned, it tingled instead of tortured, and I gave myself into it.

I moaned as my need for Sully amplified, and his fantasy made me wish to turn the tables on him. He’d come to me as a bankrupt beggar, believing he was destitute in soul and heart. Instead, he’d traded what he thought he didn’t have and taken mine in return, leaving me with evidence that he wasn’t destitute but rich. Rich in so much affection and commitment.

Falling to my knees, I looked up at him.

“What are you—?” His eyes flared as I reached for the curled-up waistline of his tattered trousers. With swiftness born from lust as well as love, I pulled them down and found his bare erection.

He groaned as I wrapped my fingers around him. His hands dived into my hair as I bent forward and inserted him into my mouth.

I wore a gown of opals and held the power of lightning in my fingertips all while I sucked the cock of my handsome husband.

“Christ, Eleanor.” He thrust into my mouth, his ass clenching and knees locking. “Fucking hell.”

I dug my tongue into the slit at the top, tasting his musk before rubbing the wet length of him down my cheek as I dropped my head to suck his balls.

“Fuck—” He jerked above me, muttering incoherent lusty snarls.

My hand went between his legs, and I pressed on that sensitive spot that I’d heard about but never tried, and I broke the monster I’d married.

“Jesus Christ.” He crashed to his knees, tearing his length from my control. Fisting himself, he shuddered and staved off the first pulses of a climax.