“I won’t sign anything that I haven’t read—”

“Just like you won’t take drugs you don’t know or agree to something you haven’t analysed to the point of suicide. Yes, I’m beginning to understand that about you.”

I already understood more than that.

I’d already deduced that this girl…she wouldn’t be allowed near me unsupervised after today. I wasn’t so cocky to think there wasn’t something about her that tempted me beyond realms that should never be crossed.

If I was honest, I’d been waiting for a purchase to affect me worse than the others.

I’d been dealing in sex for so long now, I secretly wondered if I’d ruined any chance of suffering true lust again. I hadn’t expected someone as young as her to entice me, but then again, I’d been a fucking idiot to list all the feminine attributes that I found attractive—not just my clients—for my next goddess.

I should’ve known I’d custom-designed a mail-order fuck slave that I’d have trouble resisting.

After all, I had strong inclinations toward brunettes. And she was most definitely a brunette with her dark, bitter chocolate hair. I liked tall girls with strength in their limbs and a willowy grace that belied feminine power. I liked clear skin and light eyes.

I should never have let her on my fucking shores.

She moaned low under her breath, wrenching my gaze to watch her closely. Her lips had parted, sipping air as if afraid of the creeping, stealthy takeover of her body. Her nipples had hardened beneath whatever shit the traffickers had dressed her in, and her thighs pressed together against her will.

Goddammit, it’d affected her too fast.

Standing, I stormed around my desk, grabbed her hand, and wrapped her fingers around the pen. Pressing her wrist against the paper, I commanded, “Sign. It makes no difference to me if you do or don’t. You’re here, you’re mine, your future is already entirely in my control. This part is for you. For your peace of mind.”

She swayed, her eyelashes fluttering as her pupils dilated. “Why…why do you want me to sign then? Why do you care about my peace of mind?” Her voice had slipped from snippy and sharp to sensual and full of sex.

“Because I find a willing employee better than a forced one.”

“You should’ve just hired people then, instead of kidnapping them.”

I smiled, pulling her closer, angling her hand so the nib of the pen dug into the paper and bled ink. “But then I wouldn’t get the same level of quality, would I? Owning something rather than asking ensures much better results.”

She leaned into me, her nose seeking my lapels and inhaling deep. She moaned again, her eyes closing and forehead furrowing as she fought the hostage takeover of her senses. “What…what’s happening to me?”

Ignoring her question, I rushed, “I own forty-four islands. I rather like that number. Therefore, your time here will be measured by that amount.” Manhandling her, I moved behind, supporting her sudden lethargy while keeping her hand on the contract. “Four years. That’s all I ask. I bought you. I could keep you for eternity. I could use you until you’re worthless, then kill and feed you to the numerous sharks that stalk my shores. But…I won’t. I value commodity. I appreciate hard work. And I reward good behaviour.”

She reclined into me, her spine arching and her ass rubbing against parts of me that should stay the fuck away from her at all costs. I went to push her away, but she snapped upright, bashing her hipbones against the desk in her need to get as far away from me as possible.

Huh.

She was strong then.

Strong enough to fight the potency swimming in her veins.

But she wouldn’t win against it.

No one could.

That was why I had the best scientists working on the formula. Why the word elixir promised such impossible feats like turning metals into gold, alchemists into immortals, and humans into demigods.

My island wasn’t just a fuckfest for the obscenely rich.

It was a wonderland for the men who’d become jaded by life. Who wanted the fantastical. Who believed in the utopia that we’d all been so cruelly denied.

Women.

Willing women.

Animalistic, X-rated women.

And this elixir, made from the very same orchids that grew on my archipelago, granted them paradise in the form of an overly-sexed, hyper-sensitive, orgasm-begging creature who no longer knew her own name, who no longer cared about what she looked like naked or had any capacity to lie, cheat, or fake her own desire.

Men came to my island for the joy of not only sleeping with a goddess but being gods themselves. The sole giver of pleasure that women crawled for, cried for, craved over and over and fucking over again.

The hunger, the greed, the all-encompassing need to be fucked ensured both parties were satisfied. Nothing was false about the barbaric, raw sex that happened here. The girls were dripping, and the men fed off their uninhibited eroticism.

My sole purpose was to select women who, once they took my elixir, became slaves…not to me…but their own snarling, starving libido.

And this girl? Fuck, she had a long way to fall. A long way to realise that her pride would soon be stripped, her morals shredded, her priorities up in flames.

Her mind would soon be taken over by more basic requirements.

The need for a cock.

The greed for a man—any man, multiple men—to fill her up and thrust until that crippling, clawing fervour could be sated.

I felt sorry for her.

Sorry that, unlike the goddesses who received the dose just before their first client, who went to their chosen on their hands and knees, their body wet and carnal, and had the reward of being fucked until they either passed out from delirium or drained their partner from every drop of cum he could give her, this girl would suffer.

Fuck, she would suffer.

Her legs buckled as she ground her hips into my desk. Her skin flushed. Her body heat scorched a thousand degrees.

My own body responded.

My cock, that had never fully calmed down, thickened to the point of excruciation. It would be so easy to unzip and fill her.

She’d let me. Fuck, she’d beg me.

She’d spread and arch, and I’d thrust—

Shit.

The longer I stayed here, the bigger the cracks in my willpower.

She shook her head, falling deeper and deeper into the lecherous lewdness she couldn’t control.

I had to get away from her.

I had to lock her away from everyone—male and female if I didn’t want her to mount someone to chase relief.

My fingers tightened around hers, digging the pen deeper into the page. “Four years. A tiny cost to have your freedom returned.”

She moaned again, louder this time, losing civility under the crippling greed. “Just give me my freedom now. Give me…” Her head fell back as she pressed her pussy against the desk again. “Give me something. God, what did you give me? What’s happening to me?”

Deciding to destroy her just because I could, just because she drew out needs I didn’t want, I swept her hair away from her nape, and pressed a chaste kiss to the heat-sticky skin, inhaling the flush of a woman in full musky heat. “You’re freer than you’ve ever been in your life.”

She did more than shudder. She almost orgasmed from my touch. Her entire body quaked as internal muscles clenched so hard, I almost saw the wave of ecstasy flutter her stomach. “Please…make it stop.”