He touched the curls on my head, feeling the silky strands between his fingers. “Because you’re like those shiny ornaments on the Christmas tree. Too pretty. Too perfect. Something I’m not allowed to touch.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll break you.”

I took his hand and held it in front of my face. “Do you think the blood on your hands is still there? Do you think by touching me, it’ll make me dirty? I’m not like those other women you’ve brought into your bed. Your demons don’t scare me.” I pulled his finger into my mouth and slowly sucked.

His eyes hooded, and a needful groan sounded deep in his throat. “Tell me what to do,” he whispered.

Wheeler wanted to submit. Maybe some women would have cracked the belt and punished him hard, but this man had been punishing himself for more years than anyone deserved. He needed to lose control in low doses, without losing dignity.

“Turn around,” I said in a sultry voice. “I want to look at all of you. Do it slowly.”

Wheeler swallowed and turned in a circle. I admired the ink designs that he wore on his arms like sleeves—the wolf on his right arm, and below it the chain that circled around. Tribal designs, a row of skulls, and an intricate sketch of two playing cards: a joker and a king.

“You only have one animal. That’s unusual,” I said, thinking about how most men liked snakes, eagles, or scorpions.

“It’s bad luck.”

“Says who?”

He shrugged, looking down at me over his shoulder. “Says me. My wolf is the only one who gets billboard space on my body.”

But when he turned around, the view stole my breath away. Spread across his back was an enormous dragon with wings. The shading was perfected in such a way that it looked as though it had separated from his skin and was hovering over his back. I traced my fingers over the sharp teeth, down the scaly body, circling them over his serpentine claws. “But this is an animal…”

“It’s a dragon, not an animal. They’re not real.”

I pressed my lips against it. “Maybe they are,” I murmured, thinking about cruel men like Delgado who had slain innocents and ruined lives. I wondered if my dragon slayer would ever find peace.

Wheeler kept turning until he faced me once again, but he no longer held the amorous look in his eyes—only one of ruin.

“I needed something big to cover up the scars. There were more on my back; that’s where they liked to whip us.”

Tears burned hot in my eyes. I didn’t like knowing someone had hurt him that way. Just imagining him alone in a cell while someone was whipping him…

“Hey, don’t do that,” he said, wiping one away. “Jesus, I really fucked this up. You see what I mean? You’re too delicate for a man like me.”

“Is that all you see when you look at me? Just an ornament?”