Page 81 of Spark of Madness

But all I feel is panic.

I want to clutch something, grab hold of something firm and stable, but I’m bound. The jerking feeling of suddenly falling hits me over and over again, and after several waves of it, I lose myself entirely.

“Take me down!” I shout, the eerie reverberation of my voice echoing back at me. “Take me down, I can’t—”

I thrash in my bindings, trying uselessly to free my arms, but the movement only makes me swing and spin. I can’t calm down, I can’t relax. All I can think about is breaking free.

Then Arlo’s palm lands on the back of my head, his fingers dig into my hair and grip it tight, lifting. He steadies my wriggling form with a single look as he bends to meet my eyes.

The look...

Blue fire glints in his steadying gaze, and the heat of it is unlike any earthly flame. It’s something otherworldly.

Celestial.

The glimmering light of a burning star on the brink of explosion.

Eruption.

Corruption.

“Give in to the panic. Let go and give in to it, then let it be done. I’ve taken your control from you, and I’m not giving it back. Accept it. It’s mine.” He breathes out and tilts his head, narrowing his eyes with sinister, sexual, seductive intent. And with command, he speaks a truth I can’t deny. “You’re mine, starlight.”

chapter twenty-six

Mercy

IT’S HIS TOUCH,his words, his breath against my cheeks. It’s the whisper of acceptance from the shadows surrounding us that seeps through my skin, penetrates my bones, and settles me with perfect calmness.

Acceptance.

It’s the peace that comes from acceptance.

I’m bound and immobile, suspended, and at his will.

I accept it.

I welcome it.

I embrace it.

Our gaze locks for moments as we share heat between us. I feel it burning from his eyes into mine and melting every molecule. It seeps through my insides and warms me deeply, sending a warm river of pleasure rippling through my core.

Arlo’s grip on my hair loosens, then his hand strokes down the back of my head as a small but intense smile creeps up his lips—a smile filled with sinful intentions.

“You’re mine,” he says again, and I nod my agreement.

I am.

I am yours.

His fingers brush down my back, tracing over the lines of rope and slipping in between coils to touch my skin. He stops when he reaches the small of my back, his hand pressing to a flat expanse of exposed skin, rubbing a gentle circle. The ropes creak as they rock lightly in my suspension, though his hand keeps me steadily at his side.

“How do you feel?” he asks gently.

I pause, tasting my words and whether they’re palatable enough to share before speaking. “I feel every molecule of existence. I feel like every atom in the universe is swirling beneath me, keeping me afloat.”

He exhales heavily. “Sweet sin.”

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