Her eyes, which had been squeezed shut against the blinding onslaught of pleasure, fluttered open.
The world that came into focus was a dizzying kaleidoscope of cosmic light and primal darkness. The shimmering auroras swirled in the vast ceiling above, and Jax's face, a mask of raw, untamed dominance, filled her vision.
The connection was instantaneous, a lightning strike of pure, unadulterated power. She saw not just a man, but a force of nature, a king, a conqueror, and the sheer, overwhelming rightness of it sent a fresh gush of arousal flooding her core.
"♥ That's it... ♥" she breathed, her voice a husky, broken whisper, "♥ That's my King... ♥"
Her words were a catalyst. The last vestiges of his control, the careful restraint he'd shown even while brutalizing the others, shattered.
This was Willow. The First Witch. She wasn't made of glass; she was forged in the heart of a dying star. She could take anything he could give, and she would beg for more.
