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“You want more, my pretty girl?”

A twisted desire rose inside me. To be wanted, chosen, used by him, because it meant I wasn’t worthless. That I was the one to break Yves’s careful manners.

I nodded.

He did it again. And again. I couldn’t stop the whimper that tore out of my throat. Adrenaline and pleasure threaded through me. His hand found the root of my hair. Gripping it tight and encouraging my back to arch.

All I could say was, “More.”

I wondered if he’d ever been permitted to lose control on a woman, but I was more than happy to let him lose control on me.

“Do it, Yves. Fuck me like you’ve never fucked anyone before.”

“Careful what you ask for.” He teased me with his piercings, rubbing himself over the spot inside me one more time before he pounded his cock into me.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, hands on my hips.

“Yes. More.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, it was like I’d cut the last tether holding back his control. He fucked me like I’d never been fucked before. Each thrust harder than the last.

I told myself this was nothing more than a starved man getting his fix. He’d been celibate for eight years, and all he wanted was to fuck. To take. When he’d tried to kiss me, that was him being respectful. Nothing about this was romantic. It was carnal.

“I’m going to fill up this tight little pussy. Do you hear me? I’m going to fill. It. All. Up.”

“Do it,” I said, in a wild, crazed voice. Sweat dripping down my face. “Do it, Yves.”

He growled, pumping deeper, deeper. “Take it,” he gritted out. Grunting. His strokes slowed, and as he did, I brought one hand to my clit, playing with it, chasing one last release.

Banding one arm around my waist, he pulled both of us up so we were on our knees. In the mirror, it was him and me. Us.

“I want to feel it dripping out,” he whispered. “I want to watch you make yourself come with my cock in you.”

I tilted my head back against his shoulder, working harder and harder. He lifted me up and down, bouncing me on him, giving me just enough to make it easy. Whispering the dirtiest things I’d ever heard from a man’s mouth. Once I screamed through my last orgasm, limp and sweaty, he eased us back, allowing me to recline on his chest. Instead of struggling against the tenderness, I sank into it. His coolness felt good, and I was too exhausted to fight it.

We sat like that for a long time. Silent save for the sound of my breathing. I closed my eyes and felt nothing but a sense of relief. I told myself I was only going to keep my eyes closed for a minute. But when I opened them again, it was morning.

I was tucked beneath a thin linen sheet. And when I sat up in a rush, I found I had a clean night shift on. Yves was nowhere to be found, but a glass of water was sitting beside the bed along with a folded piece of parchment that was sticking out of the green book.

I had fun. I hope you did too. If you did, I would very much like to have fun again soon.

Y

Chapter 33

Inassouvi

YVES

She had let me put my mouth everywhere except hers.

I had accepted the boundary because I could see the fear in her eyes. It was the same fear I’d seen every time I offered to help her, or said something kind. In the face of Devouring witches, she hadn’t quivered, but whenever I showed her an ounce of kindness, she tensed.

“Your Grace?”

I blinked.

Four men were staring at me across the oak table inside the Harbormaster’s office. Beyond the open windows, gulls circled the quay, dockhands shouted over one another, and the morning tide slapped against the pilings.