Something primal twisted in my gut. I stifled a groan.
She hated Eris more than I did.
And that made her perfect.
I changed direction and led her into my bedroom, nudging her inside and closing the door behind us.
There was no escape.
She didn’t look back.
She sauntered to the bed, turned, and sat—like she owned the room.
I tugged my sweater over my head and began working the buttons of my shirt.
“Strip,” I barked, the word hard and final—when I caught her teeth grazing her lower lip.
Her eyes were glued to my chest. Then lower.
She stood. No hesitation. No modesty. Just obedience.
The slippers came off first—her feet were as dainty as her hands. She couldn’t be more than five-foot-two, but her presence filled the room. Defiant. Quietly bold.
It was the kind of heady contradiction that made me want to coddle her and ruin her in the same breath.
The sweatpants hit the floor as I reached for my belt.
She pulled off her hoodie next, standing there in just her underwear.
She stood there—barefoot, stripped down to soft pink cotton.
Petite, yes. Barely five foot and change. But God—her body was all fire and flesh.
Heavy, perfect breasts strained against the cups of her bra, a subtle jiggle with each breath. Her waist dipped in, only to flare into hips made for bearing my children. Those thighs—thick, plush, full—mocked the rest of her frame with their power.
She wasn’t fragile.
She was all hips and curves, wrapped in toasted almond skin that shimmered with warmth. I didn’t want to look away. I wanted to mark every inch of her until that glow belonged to me.
I broke into a cold sweat.
Because under all that soft, unbothered silence…
She knew exactly what she was doing.
I dropped my trousers.
Order restored.
She saw what I was packing.
I peeled my boxers down, hooking the elastic beneath my balls.
Her hand flew to her mouth. Disbelief. Awe.
I stepped closer.
“Careful what you wish for, Everly. I can’t wait to see your blood smeared all over me.”
