My eyes slid down her body and got distracted by the bite marks on her thighs. Puca certainly had a way of marking where he’d been. I was jealous of him, I realized. My teeth ground together as I looked at the bites on her legs. He’d had her and Lorcan now. I should have fucked him harder earlier.

Lacey pulled both doors to the wardrobe wide open and my eyes widened. Gold sparkled everywhere—a hundred pieces, a thousand. Glittering, sparkling necklaces, rings, earrings, collars, any and everything. My eyes blurred and I stumbled. I felt like I was going to fall over and I did, face first on her bed.

“This was a bad idea,” I grumbled, writhing around on the bed until I was flat on my back. I felt drunker than any whiskey could make me. I reached up and grabbed my head, making sure it didn’t fall off as the room swayed. Lacey’s face hovered over me. She reached out with a hand decorated in gold and touched my face. I hissed. It felt like it was scalding hot.

“You’re burning up. Can you get sick?” Her voice swayed away as the room went dark. I passed out.

When I woke up it was dark. My jacket and shirt were laying across a chair in the corner while my boots were underneath it. I felt a lot more rested, my thoughts more clear than they’d been since we came to this island. I turned, realizing I wasn’t alone. Beside me in bed was Lacey.

She was moaning, her hands twisting the blankets. She gasped suddenly and began to murmur to someone in her dream. I watched her for a moment, enamored by her movements and sounds. Lacey cried out and writhed.

“Lorcan,” she whined, tears trailing from the corners of her eyes. Christ. I gently shook her awake. She stretched, her eyes cracking open.

“You’re awake,” she said. She looked at the table behind her. “It’s been about twenty hours since you fell asleep.” She looked like a goddess piled into her fluffy blankets, her hair soft and wild across her pillows. The lights from the city twinkled in from the wall of windows, casting the room in rays of filtered neon. Her beauty was breathtaking.

“What were you dreaming of?” I teased. Her face pinched in confusion.

“I wasn’t dreaming, I don’t think,” she said. I hummed. Probably for the best she didn’t remember. Falling for Lorcan was all too easy and endlessly frustrating.

Lacey watched me looking at her, her face becoming flushed. My appreciative expression must have been obvious.

She brushed her blankets away slowly, revealing herself nude in bed, held softly amongst all the sheets. She’d been wrapped like a present for me.

I turned away.

“You don’t want to?” She asked.

“It’s not a matter of wanting,” I responded. Lacey wanted me because she liked sex and liked men who were bad for her. It was part of who she was. I was a thrill she wanted inside her—a danger buried in her sweet cunt.