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“Drive 2.6 miles to our intended destination.”

She complied with wordless sounds of consternation. “What is our intended destination?”

“A lovely hotel,” he said, adding a dose of lust to the announcement.

The huge gasp she gave told him she understood one thing. No, two. Make that three. One, the Bellatore had never experienced sexual pleasure. Two, she’d thought herself incapable in her angelic form. And three, she would soon know how very wrong she was.

“What’s happening?” she whispered between hot breaths.

“Since I’ve fused with my three Kings, I have a portion of all their powers as you know,” he reminded. “Rest assured the divine winds and fire won’t let the unholy lust misbehave. More than is necessary,” he added, his cock raging hard with the directive now cooking his blood.

“This isn’t… this isn’t permitted,” she gasped.

“Really,” he said, his cock’s grin reaching his mouth. “My Donec Bellatore can fuck devils and steal power with a most delicious kiss, but she can’t permit a Kollaborator King of the Pecto Tuta Veritas to give you ecstasy until you’re weeping for me to fuck you?”

She pulled into the parking lot, her breaths labored like she fought an army of demons.

“Keep fighting me,” he urged, her earlier sins ever before him like a whipping post. “Right now, your power feels like a hot tongue on my cock.”

“Please,” she gasped, putting the vehicle in park.

He turned and looked at her, his gaze moving over the black robe she now wore. “Your fear has found sympathy, my Donec Bellatore.” He leaned across the space between them. “I will consider mercy for another kiss.”

Her gaze fell to his mouth then shot back up to his eyes, her terror a grip on his entire groin. He was about to pull away when she leaned in then stopped just before his mouth. He watched her brows furrow as she pressed her lips against his for a microsecond. A microsecond that felt like the worst sin of all. “Just enough to enrage my lust… Larena,” he muttered softly.

****

Seeing there was no escaping this being’s power, Larena moved on to surviving it without incurring permanent scars. Whatever he intended to do could be survived but its aftermathwas what she feared. This power he wielded was not unheard of, but it was surely new to her. Not once in her existence had she ever feared a fight, but this one was massively different. It wasn’t his power that was the threat, it was him.

From the moment she set eyes on him, she knew he was the source of her help while simultaneously being her greatest threat. She’d tightened her shields hoping to get what she needed from him and be on her way, but he had other plans. Things she had no time for, nor could she risk enduring. To open herself to such needs would be a fatal blow to her already low powers.

Why hadn’t she just explained it to him?

Why had she panicked?

Why do you ask such foolish questions while knowing full well the answers?

He was the most beautiful being she’d ever met. Inside and out. He was spirit candy to her weeping inner-child and holy water for her parched spirit. She’d panicked with his offer to give her power. Not knowing what he’d require of her to get it had sent her diving into the flames to take it. And like a fool, she thought she could take all of it and he’d just be at her mercy.

Now she was a prisoner.

His prisoner.

And he was angry with her. Furious, to be perfectly accurate.

She couldn’t use her powers against him but was able to know such things. And it was a torment to know and even feel the wound she’d inflicted on him. He left it wide open and oozing blood as if to remind her who was responsible for what was coming.

She sat on the hotel bed right where he’d ordered her to, all showered and clean, waiting for her execution. He’d called her a Donec Bellatore. She tried to be offended, but there wasnothing that fell from his perfect mouth that her body and mind found offensive. And it wasn’t the sexy warrior title that made her quake in her eternal skin, it was themythat preceded it. He had the power toownher if he chose. Either way meant certain death. To be owned by him meant the death of her as a Bellatore Matre. And to not be owned by him meant the death of her as a woman.

Which death she would suffer was entirely up to him.

She was hardly a stranger to suffering and this needed to be seen like any other casualty of war. The only consolation was the carnage would be her own and not one of her earthly mothers.

She would find a way to survive and continue, she always did. Whether he punished her once or punished her for eternity with his delicious glory. She must find a way.

The sound of the shower ceased and brought blood to pound in all those new places she’d never experienced in her entire existence. Her heart pumped too quickly and her skin prickled. He’d told her to get naked and she had, marveling over the feeling of such a state of being. It was the way he’d commanded it. “Get naked.” It meant remove everything. All her protective walls, every stitch of clothes. There was no disobeying him and she sat there utterly exposed.

The door opened and she closed her eyes to focus her strength then quickly opened them when visions of her kissing him wrecked her. She turned and her gaze fell on him. A death had never been swifter as she sat there, pierced through by his beauty now standing exactly before her.