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I work to swallow as he slowly and methodically unravels the towel, taunting me while keeping his yin-yang eyes pinned on me.
It feels as if an entire galaxy is swirling in my stomach. There’s a black hole, devouring all sense and reason. A sun sending solar flares lashing throughout my body, heating me from the inside out and sinking lower to the apex of my thighs, and a supernova, on the precipice of exploding.
He releases the knot, the towel dropping to the floor with a quiet thunk.
Fuck me sideways.
His cock is hard, the tip reddened and the veins prominent, and it nearly sends me to my knees with a prayer on my tongue. He’s fucking glorious, and my heart wrenches with the reminder that this man—no, this God—is mine.
He straightens, and I try to tell myself to drink him in slowly.
Small sips, Addie. Savor him.
But I can’t keep my greedy eyes from eating up the expanse of his physique, lingering specifically below his waist.
I haven’t forgotten how terrifying Zade's cock is. Yet every time, it feels like a punch in the chest to see it in the flesh, knowing he has to fit that inside of me.
My mouth salivates when I recall the burn from him stretching me and how he’d have to work himself inside of me. Fuck, it’s just like being addicted to the pain of getting a tattoo. Every bite of the needle you want to run away, but you stay because the outcome is pure fucking bliss.
Giving me a loaded look, he walks to the dresser and digs something out of the drawer. Jesus, his backside is almost as mouth-watering as the front. My lungs close, and I’m no longer breathing.
The sound of metal is what finally pulls my attention away from his body. He’s advancing toward me, holding black handcuffs, and the sight sends my heart skipping like a rock across the surface of a lake.
I take a big step back. Most men would pause when they see hesitation, but Zade doesn’t falter as he approaches me.
“What are you doing with those?” I ask, alarm building in my chest.
“Don’t worry, baby, these are for me.”
Meeting his stare, I’m instantly soothed. A range of emotions swirl in his black and white pools. Desire, love, and wicked intent. But he’s so damn calm, and that’s what makes me feel calm.
Furrowing my brow, I watch him hold out the handcuffs and key to me, but I don’t take them yet.
“What are you planning?” I ask, looking up at him.
“Didn’t I tell you before that you don’t need a cop to get me in handcuffs? I said I’d let you do anything you want to me, and that’s what I’m doing.”
I’m not sure why I’m so surprised to hear that. He’s made it clear I hold the power but seeing him physically hand it to me is still jarring.
Licking my lips, I hesitantly grab them and place the key on the nightstand. The second I do, he turns around once more, showing me the massive octopus tattooed across his back, the tentacles unfurling up to his shoulders and neck.
Some nights, I trace each line while he sleeps, familiarizing myself with the feel of his skin when he’s not demanding it of me.
Just like those late nights, I brush my fingers over the fine details in the octopus, marveling over the talent that went into this piece.
The muscles in his back ripple from my touch, and I can’t help but feel invigorated by the effect I have on him.
Enjoying his reaction, I tease him. Trailing the pads of my fingers lightly down his back, his arms, and to his hands. Goosebumps rise on his skin, and I bite back a smile. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this man get something as trivial as goosebumps. It’s a normal human reaction, but when has Zade ever acted like anything less than a deity?
I tighten the handcuffs around his wrists, inhaling sharply when he turns again and stands before me. Persephone imprisoning Hades—it’s too sweet not to salivate over.
“You’ll let me do anything I want to you?” I reiterate, hesitant to believe it. Seeing him so… defenseless—my brain can’t quite process it.
His eyes darken, and his grin slips. “You’ve always been an atheist to my word. You’re incapable of believing in something you can’t see and lack faith because you’re blind to what’s right in front of you. I’m yours to command—I always have been. You just need to see it to finally believe it.”
Clearing my throat, I whisper, “Sit on the bed.”
Without hesitation, he steps back and slowly sits down, keeping his legs spread. My eyes gravitate between them again, and my heart flutters like a hummingbird’s wings, equally transfixed and intimidated.
