I barely had time to catch my breath before Lilithara’s tail tightened around my throat—not choking, just a firm, possessive collar of warm leather that reminded me who owned every gasp I took.
She rolled off me only long enough to drag an antique-looking wooden chair from the corner of my bedroom to the center of the room. It was one of those heavy, carved things I’d bought at a flea market because it looked “vintage chic.” Now it looked like a throne for torment.
“Sit,” she ordered.
My legs were still jelly. I stumbled forward anyway, thighs slick with both our releases. When I lowered myself onto the seat the cool wood kissed my overheated skin and made me hiss. Lilithara circled behind me like a predator sizing up dinner.
“Arms over the backrest. Wrists together.”
I obeyed. Her ta
