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Our chamber darkened. Wisps of shadows spilled off his shoulders, and I wasn’t certain he even noticed. As though my pleas, my cries, drew out all of him.

I moaned against the cool shadows on my skin, touching me everywhere. My breasts, my throat, my lips. I felt pressure around my neck, not enough to choke off my air, but enough to feel the possession, the claim of his darkest desires.

The way every piece of Roark touched me was a paradox, giving me both the warmest safety and the fear of drawing too near a ledge. Tender and sweet, demanding and dangerous.

Beneath his hands and shadows, his wicked tongue, and his greedy lips, I would tumble over any ledge as long as more of him awaited me at the bottom.

Roark knew how to keep me balanced on the precipice. With his groans and sighs, the tension in his muscles, and his attention to every movement, my husband took a bit of wretched pleasure watching my body twist in the throes of his beautiful torture.

Once more, heat slid down from my skull, landing white-hot in my belly. Far from my control, my hips bucked and thrashed against his mouth. I yanked on his hair, grounding myself to the moment, to the lashes of his tongue on my core.

The sharp edge of his teeth against my soaked entrance pulled a scream of his name. Roark’s shoulders moved like he might be laughing when he pulled back moments before I could ride through a second release.

“You bastard,” I gritted out and locked my ankles behind his shoulders, desperate for him to begin again.

Roark gripped my legs and yanked them off his body, a new sort of fire in his eyes. Each of his palms pressed against my inner thighs, forcing my legs wide open. Frigid shadows slid along my slit, curling inside and out.

“Gods, Roark…” What was I even trying to say?

He grinned with heady viciousness, a true villain, then settled his hips between my thighs. The crown of his length nudged against my entrance, but he held back.

I wanted to scream.

Roark reared over me and covered one nipple with his lips, sucking and licking. One hand covered my other breast, and the second slid around my waist, kneading the globe of my ass, rocking my hips against the tip of his cock.

He was everywhere, and he damn well knew what he was doing. The torment was too fierce. I never wanted it to stop.

The palm on my breast moved over my heart. You are perfect, wife.

By the gods, I understood why he wanted to hear the same from me. How strange it was that not so long ago I was convinced I’d never trust the man again and now I was his wife.

Before we had sealed the bond, part of me wondered if I desired it for strategy. No mistake, I craved Roark, loved him, but a husband had not been in my plans. In this moment, I could say without hesitation I would never regret sealing our bond.

Fate be damned, Roark Ashwood was the choice of my heart.

My soul.

Without warning, Roark popped his mouth off my nipple and pressed his hips against my center.

My fingernails clawed at his shoulders. “Please. I need you. All of you.”

I wanted him to fill me up.

He took my palm and guided it down my stomach, then urged my grasp around his cock. Warm, hard, and thick; a stream of arousal slid out the top. I ran my thumb through it until a small cough spilled from his throat.

Roark shook his head. Don’t make me come. I’ll come here. He cupped my core. Or here. Roark kissed me, his tongue deep in my throat. Choose.

My brow furrowed, desperate for him. I aligned his cock with my center, and in one swift thrust, he slid inside.

We moaned in unison, both in pleasure and relief, ready to chase our release.

The first thrust was hard and deep. My spine bowed off the bed, my lashes fluttering. The next came slower, pushed deeper, like he planned to split me in two. Delirious and muddled with the sensation of his body and the oaky scent of his skin, I did not notice his command against my cheek for a few breaths.

Scream.

His movements grew rougher, desperate; I could not keep silent even if I desired.

I cried out his name, unbothered if anyone heard, and my body pulsed as I fell apart. Roark hooked one of my legs around his hip and quickened his pace. His breath was hot on my neck. He rocked with enough force that the wood of our bed rapped against the wall, and the ropes holding the mattress groaned.