Page 47 of Every Eligible Man

I take the ornate glove with a bow that's entirely unnecessary but aesthetically important. I slide it onto my left hand. It fits perfectly, silver embroidery glinting even in the dim barn light.

"And the ferret," Cinder continues, turning to Wreck. "The ferret I've been carrying for four days while he bit everyone who came near me."

Gerald chooses that moment to lick Wreck's face with aggressive affection.

"Yeah," Wreck says, nuzzling the tiny monster. "He's mine. Sorry about... everything he did. He has impulse control issues. And a biting kink."

"He ate three of my earrings."

"He does that. He's working on it."

Cinder stands there, breathing hard, surrounded by three men who are absolutely, definitely, undeniably the ones she's been searching for.

And then she smiles. It's not a nice smile. It's the smile of a predator who has finally cornered her prey.

I recognize that smile. I've been on the receiving end of it before, four days ago, in a ballroom, right before she dragged us into an antechamber and ruined us all.

I'm very much looking forward to being ruined again.

"Trousers," she says. "All three of you. Drop them. Now."

"My lady!" Baron Grimwald looks like he's going to have an aneurysm. "You can't seriously be considering them, these are servants. They're beneath you."

"They were inside me four days ago. Several times. In multiple configurations." Cinder doesn't take her eyes off us. "I think we're past 'beneath me.' Now shut up before I have you arrested for wasting my time."

She points at Ash. "You first. Big one. Show me what I've been hunting for."

Ash holds her gaze as he unlaces his work breeches and lets them drop.

His cock hangs heavy between his thighs, soft but still impressive, thick and substantial, with that slight upward curve she's been describing to traumatized scribes for days.

Cinder's breath catches.

"That's the one," she whispers. "That's the one that almost broke me."

From the rafters, the rats begin a quiet chant: "Big. Dick. Energy. Big. Dick. Energy."

"You." Cinder points at me. "Your turn."

I drop my trousers with a flourish, because I never miss an opportunity for dramatic presentation. My cock springs free, already starting to harden under her attention.

"Pretty boy with the silver tongue," Cinder murmurs, eyes traveling down. "The one who noticed everything. The one who made me come with two fingers and observation."

Bastard honks proudly, as if my cock is somehow his accomplishment too.

Fair enough. He's earned the right to take some credit.

"And you." Cinder turns to Wreck, who's trying to figure out how to drop his trousers while still holding two ferrets. "Chaos incarnate. The one with the refractory period that defied biology."

Wreck hands the ferrets to a nearby post, they cling to it, watching with interest, and drops his breeches.

His cock bounces free, curved at that distinctive angle, already fully hard because Wreck has no subtlety about anything ever.

"There you are," Cinder breathes. "All three of you. Every cock I've been dreaming about for four miserable days."

Baron Grimwald makes a strangled sound. His sons, crowding the barn door with horror and humiliation written across their faces, look like they want to die.

Good. Let them watch. Let them see exactly what they could never be.