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"Satisfied now?" I snap, voice ragged.

And it’sinstant.

He's in front of me, his towering presence sucking the air from the room. I stand my ground, but I feel every inch of my nakedness.

"Very," he murmurs. I can practically feel the heat of his gaze dragging down my body like a claim.

His gloved fingertips graze my bare shoulder, light and unhurried—just enough to make me shiver.

"Are you ready to beg yet, little storm?"

A sharp breath escapes me. My body answers before I do, heat flooding between my thighs, skin prickling with need.

"Fuck it," I whisper savagely, reaching for him on pure impulse, my fingers craving friction, punishment,something.

But he captures my wrists instantly, controlling them like he was waiting for the moment I'd break.

"Ah, ah," he tsks softly, mockery rich in his tone. "Do I need to bind your wrists again?"

I glare furiously, chest heaving in a mixture of rage and arousal so thick it threatens to choke me. I want to scream. I want to tear his mask off and bite down on his fucking throat.

But I also want him to shove me to the floor andruinme.

He leans in, his voice a sinful breath against my ear.

"Begging is done on your knees, darling."

My knees buckle. It's involuntary—infuriating. But the burn of surrender isn’t weakness. It’srelief.

I drop, slowly, deliberately, glaring up at him with my chin tilted defiantly. My pulse is a war drum. My thighs are shaking.

But I refuse to look away.

He towers above me like a god made of leather and shadow, watching as if he owns every thought behind my eyes.

Then—only then—he releases my wrists and reaches for his belt.

Every movement is precise. Unhurried. Controlled.

It’s a test.

And I don’t dare look away.

"Wow," I rasp, forcing a bitter smirk onto my lips, even as arousal claws at my spine. "Is this your idea of foreplay?"

His laugh is a low, indulgent roll of thunder. "Oh, darling," he murmurs, "you haven't even begun to see what I’m capable of."

My smart remark dies the second his hand slips into his waistband and he pulls his cock free.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

He’s already hard—thick and veiny. But it’s not just the size that stops me cold.

It’s what’sonit.

My mouth drops open. My brain stalls.

“What the fuck isthat?” I blurt.