Elle POV
A low, guttural sound tore from his throat, a rumble that vibrated through the floor and into the very bones of the bed. It was the sound of a chain snapping. Of a dam breaking.
The leather restraints at my wrists fell away, not with a click, but with a sharp sizzle, the scent of scorched leather filling the air. His heat had melted them. His control was gone.
His hands, now free to touch, didn’t just land on me. They claimed. One palm, searing hot, pressed flat against my stomach, and a jolt of pure, undiluted pleasure shot through my core. I cried out, back arching, pushing into that incredible heat. The other hand slid behind my neck, fingers tangling in my hair, not to hurt, but to hold. To anchor.
“You asked for this,” he growled, his voice a dark, smoky thing that wrappe
