Page 51 of Demon’s Temptation

He felt her eyes burning into the side of his head when he focused back on the road.

“I think we’ve had a serious communication breakdown here. I do not answer to you. I do not answer to anyone, understand?”

“Is that right?” he forced out through clenched teeth.

“If I were you, I’d check my tone.” Fire burned in her dark gaze, but her lips had parted and her cheeks were flushed, and then he caught her scent. She was aroused, hot as fuck.

Her voice was hard, unwavering, and his cock throbbed in reply.

Everything in the enclosed space had shifted. Right at that moment he was sitting in the car with his Domme, and he couldn’t help but respond to her dominance.

Silence filled the car and Brent thought he’d lose his damn mind waiting for her to speak again. All the while his mind continued to race, coming up with scenarios where he hadn’t seen that brochure, where Chaya never made it back to him.

“Communication is key in any kind of relationship,” she finally said in a soft but firm voice that lifted the hair on the back of his neck in a fucking good way. Fear still pumped through him, and still his body responded. He craved her constantly. “And so far, we’ve done our best communicating with our clothes off.”

He glanced over at her.

She smirked. “Oh, the plans I have for you and that disrespectful mouth.”

In that moment, after what had just happened—the gallery, Garrett, Victor—he was feeling so much, too much. What he and Chaya had done the day before. The way she’d mastered him so effortlessly, the freedom, the joy…the peace she’d given him. It would be so easy—So. Damn. Easy—for him to let go completely. But then what? He’d be back to that male, the one he’d been when Garrett had come for him, all over again. Lost in emotion, addicted to what Chaya gave him. Addicted to her.

Vulnerable.

He didn’t think she’d hurt him, but he would end up hurting her and himself when he became that…creature. When he lost sight of who he was and fed, gorged, until he didn’t know which way was up. Until he gave himself to anyone who wanted him to get more of that high.

Nausea twisted in his gut.

Chaya didn’t speak again until they pulled up outside the club. She turned to him. “Walk inside. Do not speak to anyone. Go straight to your bedroom.”

“The playroom,” he choked out. “I want to go to the playroom.”

Silence filled the space again for several long seconds. “That was a hard limit.”

He shook his head. “I want it.” He swallowed. “I need it.” The place he went when he needed release, where he fed his incubus. Where he could shut down his emotions. And fuck, he needed to shut them down. Now. Before it was too late.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. It was all he was capable of.

“Go to the end playroom, take off every piece of clothing, and wait for me on your knees,” she said without missing a beat.

He didn’t wait to be told twice. He shoved the door open and strode inside the club, all the while trying to rein in the fear of seeing Chaya in that room. Seeing her looking up at that picture of him tonight and knowing who was behind it.

Chaya had been in danger this whole time and he’d had no idea.

So, yeah, reining it in wasn’t an option.

Loosening his tie and ignoring everything and everyone around him, he made his way to the end room as instructed. He’d used it many times. One of the rooms where he unleashed the dark desires that resided inside him. A side of him he’d never wanted Chaya to see.

He’d always played the Dom here—not tonight. God, not tonight. But it was all the same. He needed pain—dishing it out and feeding off it or being on the receiving end of it.

Yeah, in here it was all the same.

He just wanted to get lost in it. He was past the point of rational thought. He was fear and desperate hunger.

He was sex.

What he could get in that room, who he was in that room called to him, consumed him, drove him forward. And only Chaya could sate his need.