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“Our first time will not be a position from a book. That will come later.” His voice is husky, and the sweep of his eyes over my form is hungry.

He tosses his jacket onto a chair nearby, leaving him in his crisp white shirt, the black of his tattoos alluded to under the material.

I want to see it all. My photographic memory is eager for it. I will know every muscleandtouch every inch of skin with my eyes and fingers. Immortalising them with both. And what better place than this room, which seems specifically designed to maximize visual stimulation?

“I designed this shortly after meeting you. For this moment.” My eyes widen as I once again take in the room that had left me gaping when I first walked in here earlier.

Two walls are covered from floor to ceiling in mirrors, as well as the entire ceiling above the bed. I realized this as I lay on it, the visual of me masturbating on a bed I knew he slept in adding to the mess I had made on it.

“You are the first person in this place other than myself in seven years.” Fuck. The enormity of this revelation hits me like a truck. I had been jealous earlier, wondering how many women had watched themselves being fucked by Damon in this bedroom of mirrors. He smirks. He knew I had this thoughtanddidn’t want it filtering in here.He was leaving no room for any dark passengers to hitch a ride into this experience. It would be just him and I.

I have never felt so present in a moment ever.

“I want to see my cock filling that tight, wet cunt from every angle, rainbow. The sight of it must be seared into my eyeballs for eternity. We are the only voyeurs I would ever allow.”

I’m practically panting as I think of how he has done all of this just for me, for us, for our first time.

He pulls on his black tie, the material making a whooshing should as it comes loose, joining his discarded jacket.

I’m rooted to the spot as Damon unbuttons his top button before undoing the ones on his cuffs and rolling the sleeves up. Delicious tattooed flesh is revealed, the veins raised on his muscular forearms. Then he steps toward me.

“There’s no returning from this. We will be one. Connected. Do you understand? Once I am inside you, once my come paints your walls like a beautiful, glistening masterpiece, you will be mine, Sienna. No future will exist without me. No memory created that isn’t tainted by me. Your every moment from now on, alive or dead, will be infected with me.” He tilts my chin up, ensuring we stare at each other. “Forever.”

I know his obsession with me, and I understand exactly what that means. It carries the literal meaning, not some fleeting connotation that can be waivered if something goes wrong. It doesn’t scare me. As much as he uses words that have negative connotations, I want to be infected by him. I want to be tainted by him.

I want forever with him.

In any fucked-up form I can get, I realize. Perhaps I was as messed up as he was for wanting this, but I don’t care. I’ve never felt as free, as me, with anyone else.

“Yes. I understand.” He holds my gaze, only taking a few seconds to satisfy himself with the truth before saying the words that seal the deal.

“I’m going to warn you, Sienna. I have dreamt of this, and there is no rushing it. I will savor every part of you. Over and over again. Until you are delirious and think you cannot carry on. Then, we will continue. To a point so intense you will beg for release. And only when you get to that moment, to that instant where you think you are crazy, will I let you have my cock. It is the only way you will understand what you are to me and how that feeling is only a fraction ofhow I feel about you.”

Wow. Okay. A ripple of delicious fear zips through my body, making my stomach erupt with critters.

“There is no safe word.” I nod because I know he will not hurt me.

With a final dip of his head, he hooks his fingers under the straps of my nightgown and slides them down, the fabric now having nothing to hold onto as he lets go. The slide of material down my body makes me shiver.

“On the bed, rainbow.”

I look from him to the bed and then do as instructed.

“Lie flat, in the middle.” His orders are strained, as if this is as difficult for him as it is for me.

While I comply, he walks over to the wall, adjusting the lighting to a soft red. Almost like room one. Sexy. Dangerous.

He stalks towards me, my eyes dipping to the bulge in his pants.

He is big. This I know. But even the pain I anticipate will be there calls to me.

He approaches the head of the bed and then grasps my wrist, pulling it toward the corner. His hand disappears into the side before reappearing with black rope. My eyes flare as he slips the looped holeover my fingers, replacing his fingers before pulling. The rope tightens around my skin, but not enough to be painful, as Damon's finger is placed between it and my skin, leaving enough room to breathe before he pulls it out.

He growls, and his eyes feast on his handiworkas if this is the realization of a fantasy coming true. Then, he moves to the other side, repeating the process with myleft hand. It’s not lost on me that they are the exact length for someone of my measurements. Scratch that. Not someone, me.

Like a lithe predator, he moves to the bottom of the bed, capturing my left ankle in his hand before pulling it towards the corner of the bed and securing it like the others. His gaze only dares travel towards my utterly exposed pussy when he has secured the right foot.

A feeling of complete vulnerability sweeps over me. Damon could do anything to me. Even kill me. I wouldn’t be able to fight back. But the way his eyes roam my body does not make me think murder is top of his list. Murdering my pussy with that delicious weapon of his is the only slaughtering I sense on the cards tonight. His determined gaze sets me on fire, and I squirm, the ropes digging into my arms and legs delightfully, adding to everything happening.