Snap out of it, Reina or Rai or whoever the fuck you are.

I expect him to leave, but he turns around. The dangerous lust on his face takes me by surprise as he reaches for me.

“What—”

Words die at the back of my throat when he grabs both my ankles in his strong, merciless hold and pulls me toward him in one ruthless tug.

The phone falls from my hand, clattering to the ground. My legs fly open and the leather skirt bunches up my thighs, barely covering my butt.

Asher kneels on the ground as both my legs hang helplessly on his broad shoulders.

“What are you doing?” I gasp, my voice breathy and choppy like I’ve been running.

“You had your dinner. It’s time I have mine.”

I hardly process his words as he tugs my skirt up around my waist and yanks my panties down. A gust of air covers my core and my spine jerks.

A groan tears out of him as he widens my legs to watch me closer. “You’re wet. Why the fuck are you soaked, prom queen?”

I don’t know. I really don’t know. It’s baffling even to my own brain. Something about me is wired wrong, and I have no idea what it is.

Or maybe I do know, but I don’t want to admit it even to myself.

He runs his middle finger along my slit, ripping a whimper from me. “You were hardly wet before, if ever. You never moaned, either, or shook with desire like you do now.”

The confession doesn’t lessen my reaction. If anything, it makes my limbs shake harder like a leaf in the wind outside the windows.

He slides his middle finger up and down again before he thrusts it inside me and murmurs against my slick folds. “You changed.”

In the beginning, I also thought I’d changed, but now I realize that’s not the case.

Losing my memories allowed me to let myself loose, to not think about confiscating Reina’s life, and for that reason, it seems as if I’ve changed when the truth is, I was just releasing my bottled-up feelings.

“I like the new you.” His voice rumbles as he glides his tongue from the bottom of my clit up.

Oh, God.

His confession along with his touch grips my body like a possession, nearly pushing me off the edge.

“Just so we’re clear.” He nibbles on my sensitive skin with his teeth, sending rolling pleasure to my belly. “This. Pussy. Belongs. To. Me.”

With every word, he bites, making me writhe and squirm on the bed.

“You belong to me, prom queen. Now say it.” He thrusts his tongue into my entrance and my thighs quiver with the building pleasure coiling at the bottom of my stomach.

He thrusts in and out of me as if he’s filling me with his cock, as if he’s punishing me, teaching me my place, and eating me alive.

In the midst of all that, he’s bringing me shattering pleasure, the type that turns me mindless and blind. There’s too much intensity, too much control.

Just too much.

He teases my swollen clit with his thumb, continuing his ruthless assault.

Sparks fill my vision as my head rolls back and my nails dig into the sheets on either side of me.

“Oh…oh…”

“That’s not the word.” He slaps the inner flesh of my thigh in such an erotic way that it makes me gasp for air. “Now, say it.”

I gulp, trying to gather enough energy to speak.

He slaps my ass this time, and my mouth opens in a wordless cry. Shit. Why the hell is that such a turn-on?

“Last.” Slap. “Chance.”

My body jerks off the bed as I choke out the words. “I…I belong to you. Only you.”

“Repeat that.” He slaps me again, the hardest he ever has, the sound echoing in the thick air.

I scream the words as stars form behind my lids. His tongue and fingers don’t stop, bringing me a pleasure so wild it drains me of all thoughts and what-ifs.

All I can do is feel—his slight stubble, his wicked mouth, and his uncut intensity.

Just him.

My villain and my savior.

My damnation and my salvation.

The only person I ever told my secret.

His head lifts from between my thighs so his eyes lock with mine. They’re filled with raw lust and mischievous sadism. “Only me.”

I nod, barely catching my breath. The skin he slapped earlier is flaming and pulsing with the need to have his hand on my ass.

How can I want this man so much? This is so fucked up.

He disappears between my legs again, his breath tickling my hypersensitive skin.

“Ash…? What are you doing?”

“I just started my dinner.” I can feel his smirk without seeing it. “I’m going to tongue-fuck you until you can no longer move, prom queen.”

And then he makes good on his promise.

Asher takes me home in the morning.

We’ve barely talked since we woke up. Could be because of what happened last night—or everything that happened in the past.

After he wrenched three orgasms out of me with his tongue and fingers, I kind of passed out. The stimuli messed with my sensitive core, and I begged him to stop, sobbing through one orgasm after another.

Asher being Asher, he didn’t.

My voice turned hoarse and I thought I was getting dehydrated by the time he emerged from between my trembling legs and let them fall to the bed.

I was too spent to open my eyes, so I fell asleep right away.

When I opened my eyes in the morning, I was covered and comfy, but there was no sign that he’d slept beside me. He must’ve gone back to the living room or the guest room.

My heart still has that slight ache at the thought—not that I want him to sleep with me. That’s beside the whole point of avoiding him.

Currently, he drives with ease, one hand on the wheel and the other on his thigh. No words. No nothing.

I chat with Naomi and Lucy in our group chat the entire way. It’s a useless attempt to distract myself from Asher; my mind keeps dragging me back to him anyway.

His presence is impossible to ignore or deny. He’s like a constant, unmovable and unchangeable.

I peek at him through my lashes, at his styled hair and thick brows, at his chiseled jaw and firm lips that kissed me in intimate places and brought me to the highest throes of pleasure.

My cheeks heat and I shake myself internally to chase away the image. What’s wrong with me? This isn’t the time to think about that.

Besides, he hasn’t mentioned it once this morning. Maybe he regrets it.

Why does that fill me with so much trepidation?

I mean, I should regret it, too, but I can’t find it in me to do that.

We make it to the house’s driveway. It’s still early in the morning so a few staff are mingling around the garden.

I reach out a hand to release my seatbelt. Asher grabs it in his, startling me.

“W-what is it?” I halt midway, my pulse skyrocketing.

“We’ll talk to Alexander,” he says.

I nod. That’s what I’ve been planning to do. He obviously knows about the business Dad did with the mafia, and he must know something about my sister.

“After he tells you what you want to know, you’ll tell him you’re moving back to your apartment.”

“Why?” My voice sounds as spooked as I feel.

“I don’t care to share you.” His grip tightens around my wrist. “You belong to me, remember?”