Emira woke again in the soft bed, her body slow to remember where she was—and what had been done to her. The first thing she felt was the heat. It clung to her skin, curling deep in her belly, a heavy ache that pulsed through her veins no matter how many times she had been brought to the edge. Again and again. Yet somehow, it was never enough.
So this was what heat felt like…
Her lashes fluttered open. The room was cold, so cold that her breath should have fogged the air like smoke-but none of it touched her. Not really. Her body refused to feel anything except need, a desperate, biting hunger she hated even as it consumed her whole.
She shifted, and only then felt the faint pull of the restraints around her wrists. Her hands weren't tied tightly, but the soft leather cuffs still kept her trapped, marked her as bound, controlled. She could move if she wanted to, could even slip free if she fought hard enough… but that wasn't the point.
