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I drag my gaze lazily toward her where she sits, her expression innocent, her mouth tipped in that smug little smile like she’s not unraveling me thread by thread. But her voice through the bond is a different thing entirely—hot, sharp, sliding over my skin like silk and barbed wire.

Didn’t think you were the type to beg, Dalmar.

My mouth curves slow, dark, teeth catching the inside of my cheek as I lean back on my elbows like I’m unaffected.

For you, darling, I’ll make an exception.

I can feel her shiver across the bond, faint but delicious, the sound of her laughter slipping into me like whiskey poured over an open wound.

You always this obedient after you get glitter bombed?she teases, the words like a low stroke over my jaw, and fuck if it doesn’t make my pulse spike.

Only when I’m seduced with roses and bratty little demands.I let my voice curl back toward her like a noose.You’ve got me on my knees, Luna Dalmar. Might as well keep me there.

She hums again, wicked and soft, and the bond between us hums hotter now, a thread wound tight around my throat. She leans her weight into me without moving a muscle, her amusement wrapping around my ribs like silk and sin.

Careful, Ambrose. I might make you mean it.

I flick my gaze to her, sharp and heated.

Oh, I always mean it, sweetheart.

The second she lets that little crack in the bond stay open, I don’t hesitate. I fucking pour through it.

My magic slides under her skin like honey and venom, slick and slow, threading down her spine, and I let myself imagine her exactly how I want her—laid bare, stripped of that sharp little mouth, all that pretty defiance melted sweet and pliant under my hands.

I don’t send her words at first. Just images. Filthy, indulgent, obscene. I lean into it, let every filthy, wicked thought I’ve buried deep unfurl like smoke through the space she cracked open. I want her to feel me, want her to burn with it the way I’ve been burning since the second I tasted her magic in my veins.

So I give her exactly what she asked for.

I send the image of her—on her knees, pretty mouth parted, those wild, sharp eyes soft and wrecked just for me. My hands tangled in her hair, guiding, owning, devouring. I let her feel what it would be like to have me pressed against her back, my teeth grazing her throat, my voice dark against her skin as I ask her—

Would you be my good girl, Luna? Would you let me ruin you sweet?

The moan that rips through the bond punches low in my gut, a sound that’s breathless, broken, like she’s trying to swallow it and failing miserably.

Her voice when it threads back is syrupy and wrecked.

Yes. Fuck, Ambrose—yes.

It’s not tame. It’s not coy. It’s filthy and desperate, and I want her like this—undone and begging. So I keep going, because I know how to destroy things and make them crave it.

I’d keep you on your knees, darling. Make you take every inch of me until you forget how to speak. Untilall you can say is my name.My voice in the bond drips like honey laced with arsenic.You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being good for me. Letting me show you what happens when you finally stop pretending you don’t want this.

She makes a noise that’s almost a gasp, and I feel it ripple straight through me, every inch of my body burning.

Ambrose—she pants, soft and breathless now, but I can feel her shifting on the other side of the bond like she wants to crawl into my lap and let me wreck her.

Say it again, pretty thing.I drag it out like silk over steel.Say you’ll be my good girl.

Her answer is a whisper against my teeth.

I’ll be your good girl.

The words feel like they split something inside me wide open, and I could drag this out—could make her writhe under me in this bond until she’s raw—but there’s something sharper underneath the heat now, something dangerous and possessive and too fucking close to worship. The second she says it—whispers that filthy little promise down the bond like she’s already on her knees—I lose whatever leash I had left.

I lean forward, fingers still lazily weaving roses like I haven’t just set the fuse to something I can’t unlight. My voice, when I let it curl through her mind again, is velvet and poison.

Go to my room. Get undressed. Wait for me.