I sat on the plush couch, fingers absently tracing the fresh marks blooming across my skin—Hellen's possessive bite on my neck, Reyes' deeper claim on my inner thigh.
A desperate ache pulsed through me, but now it was Ivory's turn. She moved in the kitchen with focused grace, her chili-sharp scent teasing the air. I'd dolled up for her in a sleek black wrap dress that hugged my curves, my raven hair swept into an elegant bun tied with silk ribbons, diamond earrings and necklace sparkling against my pale skin.
"You've really dolled up for me," Ivory called from the kitchen, her voice warm with approval.
I snarled playfully, adjusting my blindfold. "Yes, I have. But did you forget the woman who forced me into this? The alpha who promised to make this evening classy?"
It had been two intense nights since the marking began—Hellen first, then Reyes. My body hummed with their scents, but I was already craving Ivory's touch.
