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342 pages, Kindle Edition
First published December 12, 2018




"My heart is yours," he whispers. "take it. Keep it. Burn it. It doesn't matter what you do with it. It's no good to me anymore. Not if it doesn't belong to you."
"I've been hard since I walked through that door the first time three hours ago," he growls "All of my blood is basically in my dick at this point."



I want to fucking consume her. There's a part of me that wants to fucking destroy her, if only so no one will ever be able to look at her.
I've done everything in my power to banish him from my thoughts, but there's something about the man standing before me that won't be quelled.
"I take it back," he rumbles. "You're no nightmare, Zara Llewelyn. You're every single beautiful dream I've ever had. And I don't plan on letting you go now."


“So, he was hot then?” This is the understatement of the century. The guy was more than hot. He was fucking beautiful. Not in a feminine way. Beautiful in a savage, rough, raw masculine way, that had robbed me of my breath."
“Claim her. Mark her. Fuck her. Bind her. Sink yourself so deep inside her that she doesn’t know which fucking way is up.”
“The predictions are coming true.”


Life would be so easy if I went back to them. Money, adoration, respect — I really would have it all. But the one thing I wouldn’t have, far more valuable to me than any of that, would be missing. Gone forever, never to be seen again.
My freedom.
I would no longer be free.
And my freedom is worth more to me than anything else in the world.
Pasha Rivin is a smart mouthed, arrogant, smug piece of shit. I’ve already decided this, and I’ve barely even spent any time with the man. He’s certainly not the kind of guy I’d want to date. Definitely not the kind of guy I’d involve myself with any way.
She has no idea how fiercely I will protect her. She has no idea how impossible it will be for her to walk away from me after this.
I’m not sure if I’m ready for him to sweep into my life and take it over just yet. Because I know myself, and weirdly I think I know him, and this is it. This is real, whatever that might mean for us, and there will be no backing out. There will only be life before Pasha, and the rest of my life with Pasha.
“You really think I’m going to let you into my bed?”
… “I don’t care where you let me,” he whispers, his voice thick, and ragged – so rough, I can almost feel the coarse edge of it against the hyper sensitive skin of my neck. “Your bed. Your living room. Up against your front fucking door. Down an alleyway on the way back to your apartment. It doesn’t matter to me,” he growls. “So long as you let me make you come.”
We both know how hot this will be. We both know how dirty, dark, fucked up and depraved it could and will be, if we’re both honest with each other.
I need her to share her darkest fantasies with me. And once she has, I will reward her by delivering every single one of them to her on a silver platter.
My little firefly makes a small, anxious sound, but I can see it all there in her eyes, boiling just beneath the surface. “Be brave,” I command. “You never have to hide who you are from me. I already see it. I already see you.”
“You’re no nightmare, Zara Llewellyn. You’re every single beautiful dream I’ve ever had. And I don’t plan on letting you go now.”
“I’ll be the man you deserve. I’ll give you more than happiness. I’ll give you all your dreams, because you’re giving me mine.”


