Page 80 of Insatiable

His gaze softens, but there’s an edge there, like he’s fighting against something. “Valentine, I want you—always—but this isn’t me. It’s the curse. I can’t be what you need when I have no control. You need to stop telling me what to do. Trust that I want to do it, anyway. You have no idea.”

The raw honesty in his voice cuts through my playful mood, and I can feel the weight of his words settle between us. I was teasing, thinking we could have fun with this, but now it feels wrong. Like the curse is trying to strip away what makes us, us.

I brush a hand through his hair, sighing as I shift off him. “I want you, Dade. Not this curse. Not some puppet controlled by Hell.”

His hands slide up to my waist, this time gentle, real, and he pulls me back down to him, his lips brushing against my forehead. “There’s nothing in this infernal curse that means I can’t command you though, he says playfully, lifting me up and gently lowering me onto him. I let out a long sigh that turns into a moan as he thrusts his hips up, catching me off guard.

“Who’s in charge now?” he asks, gripping my waist. I couldn’t get away from him even if I wanted to, which I most definitely don’t.

“You are,” I whisper, leaning into him. I’m more than happy to let him lead and as he shifts us round so that he’s on top, I know I prefer it this way. Dade’s hands tighten around my waist as he moves us effortlessly, shifting his weight to hover above me. His breath is hot against my neck as he whispers, “That’s right. I’m in charge now.” There’s a playful growl in his voice, but it’s laced with desire, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

His hips press into me with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each movement drawing out a gasp from my lips. I reach up, fingers tangling in his hair as I pull him closer, needing more of him, needing to feel the connection we’ve fought so hard for. Every thrust pulls me deeper into the moment, the heat between us building until it’s all I can focus on.

Dade’s gaze locks onto mine, and I can see the intensity there, but it’s no longer forced. This is us—no curse, no commands—just pure, unfiltered desire. His lips find mine, and the kiss is hungry, full of passion, his hands exploring every inch of me as if he’s trying to memorize me.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice low and full of promise. And he does. Completely.

Afterwards, breathless and sweaty, with me cocooned in his arms, I listen to him tell me how he got past the hellbeast in the exact way I told Tate. Tears fill my eyes when I find out that my best friends are here and are back in the games, albeit as slaves like Dade.

“I need to go find them. I’d like you to come with me, But I’m not going to ask you to.”

He kisses my nose and slips out of bed. “You don’t have to command me to do the right thing, Valentine. I wouldn’t be here without them. We also need to get you some food. Your stomach gurgling almost put me off my stride earlier.”

“I’ve not eaten,” I admit. I’m starving.

I head to the wardrobe and find a dress that I’m pretty sure I’ve seen on the cover of a fashion magazine before now. When I look for something for Dade, I come up empty. “There are no clothes in here for you. Didn’t they give you anything to wear?” I peek around the door to find Dade holding up the hideous gold loin cloth. “I think they expect me to wear this. It’s a mark of a slave.”

I laugh before realizing he’s being serious. “You can’t wear that. You’ll have to wear one of the suits in here. They are all my size, so they’ll be a squeeze, but anything is better than that.”

I throw him the biggest pair of pants I can find, but the second he tries stepping into them, they disappear in his hands. I throw him another pair and the same thing happens. I find both pairs hanging back up in my closet as though neither of us had touched them.

“It’s this infernal slave curse they’ve got me under,” Dade growls as a shirt of mine disappears into thin air and somehow finds itself back on a hanger in my closet. Reluctantly, he puts the loincloth back on.

With his long dark hair and his black wings, not to mention the dark expression on his face, he does look sexy as all hell. If he was planning to stay in my room all day, it would be fine, but out in public. Dade is the most private person I know and this will kill him.

“How about I go out on my own and get us both some food? I’ll see what I can do about the clothes situation too.”

Dade looks murderous, but he nods his head. Being on his own in a room isn’t the problem. Dade has always liked his own company, but being forced to do it, is not something he’s going to cope with.

Downstairs, I'm once again struck by awe at the grandeur around me. In life, I cleaned the houses of the rich, but this place makes those look like hovels. It’s palatial, every detail dripping with wealth. Under any other circumstances, I’d be floored to be in a place like this. But here, it’s just a façade—a pretty shell over the ugly truth. In these games, it doesn’t matter how luxurious the surroundings are. A jewel-encrusted knife can kill you just as easily as a rusty one.

I don’t know where Juliette, Rowena, or Tate have been assigned, so I head toward the row of restaurants to see if they’reinside. I try a few places before I hear shouting behind me. I pause, listening closely, and there it is—that voice I’d recognize anywhere. Felix. Probably in another screaming match with Anthura. My stomach growls, a sharp reminder that I came here to get food. I’ve never been this hungry in my life. But something in Felix’s tone gives me pause. It’s raw, more heated than usual.

I shouldn’t care. After everything he did—what happened to Jenny, the way he treated all of us—I should walk away. But he could’ve killed me in the Labyrinth, and he didn’t. That complicates things.

With a heavy sigh, I turn and follow the sound of Felix’s voice, cursing myself for caring. It’s coming from near the platform entrance and the back stairs. I ease the door open slightly and peek through. My blood boils instantly at what I see.

One of the male contestants is standing there holding a leash—a leash attached to a choker around Rowena’s neck. She’s dressed in a ridiculous gold bikini, shivering in the cold. Without her usual floaty dresses, the swell of her pregnant belly is painfully obvious. It’s disgusting, humiliating, and infuriating all at once.

I gasp, then clasp my hand to my mouth. I know I should storm in, rip that leash from the bastard’s hand and beat him to a pulp. But something holds me back. Felix's voice, sharp and full of anger, cuts through the air again, and I realize he must be just out of my view.

“Let her go or I swear to God I’ll rip your windpipe from your throat and strangle you with it.” I’ve never cheered for Felix in anything, but I’m cheering silently now.

The man doesn’t even flinch. “You’ve got your own hot piece of ass,” he says, nodding to someone just out of view. “Leave me to do what I will with mine.”

Felix is like a bur as he barrels into the man, knocking them both to the floor. Both men seem evenly matched, but it’s weirdto see Felix fist fighting. He spent his entire life having staff to fight his fights for him so he could keep his hands clean. His hands aren’t clean now. He’s like a man unhinged as he pummels the other man. But the other man is fighting back. I grit my teeth as I watch the pair. Felix gets him in a chokehold.

“Rowena. Go jump off the first flight of stairs,” The man manages to grit out.

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