Page 33 of His Temptation

Siobhan pushed her hair back from her face, taking a steadying breath. Her body still hummed with the aftershocks of the night before, pleasure and exhaustion warring beneath herskin. She needed to get dressed, to put distance between them before she did something reckless like crawl back into that bed.

She stood, searching for her clothes, but before she could take a step, Daragh’s voice stopped her cold.

"You can’t run, you know. You’ll never even make it out of the house, and if you do, you’ll be wearing the collar I had made for you."

Siobhan stiffened.

She turned slowly, her fingers curling into fists. "I'm just getting dressed."

Daragh sat up, resting his forearms on his knees, watching her with the patience of a predator who had already snared his prey. "You think you can pull away from me now? After everything?"

Her throat was dry. "I think I need to breathe."

A lazy, knowing grin curved his lips, and something about it made her stomach twist.

"That's the problem, kitten," he murmured, rising to his feet in one fluid motion. "You keep thinking you can separate yourself from this. From me."

Siobhan took a step back, but he was already in front of her, already closing the distance she had so desperately tried to put between them.

"You can't." His fingers trailed up her bare arm, slow, deliberate. "You won't."

Siobhan swallowed hard. Her pulse was hammering now, but she refused to back down. "Watch me."

Daragh’s grip caught her chin, tilting her face until their eyes locked.

"You still don’t get it, do you?" he said softly.

Siobhan’s breath stalled.

Daragh’s gaze dropped to her lips, then lower, to the mark he had left at her nape. His thumb brushed over it, and she felt the connection hum through her like an electric current.

"You’re mine now," he said, his voice dark and sure. "Running is no longer an option."

She clenched her jaw, her body betraying her as heat pulsed low in her belly. Daragh’s fingers tightened ever so slightly, his grip still gentle, but the promise behind it was absolute.

"You feel it too," he murmured, his lips hovering just over hers. "Does it claw at your belly the way it does at mine? Is the only relief you’ve been able to find when I buried myself in you and made you yowl? You can fight it, pretend all you want—but in the end, you will come back to me."

Siobhan trembled, but she refused to break eye contact. She refused to acknowledge the truth in his words. But deep down, she already knew. Because even now, when she had the chance to run, she wasn’t moving.

Daragh smiled, slow and dangerous. "Good girl," he murmured, brushing his lips over hers in the softest, most devastating kiss of all.

And just like that, she knew she had already lost.

Siobhan’s heart beat like a war drum in her chest as Daragh’s lips barely brushed over hers. The touch was light, almost teasing, but there was nothing gentle about the power behind it. His dominance wrapped around her like chains she couldn’t break.

Couldn’t or wouldn’t? She wanted to deny it. To shove him away, throw words like shackles and captivity in his face, but she wasn’t moving. She wasn’t pulling back. And the longer they stood there, the closer he pressed against her, the more her body betrayed her.

“Say it,” Daragh murmured, his breath warm against her skin. His fingers curled under her chin, holding her still, forcing her to meet his gaze.

Siobhan swallowed hard, her throat working against the admission that threatened to break free.

“You belong to me,” he continued, his voice velvet-wrapped steel. “Say it, kitten.”

Her nails bit into her palms. “I…”

Daragh didn’t wait.

In a single, fluid motion, he caught her by the waist and spun her back onto the bed. Before she could react, he was on top of her again, his body pressing her into the mattress, his hands spreading her thighs wide. The shift in control was seamless, like he had known all along she would fight, would push back—would need to be reminded who was in charge.

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