The tension in my muscles climbed another plateau, vibrating with anticipation.

“Sully...” I scratched his back. The pain in my womb finally switched. It stretched like a tigress, spun like a dancer, gathered to explode in a firework.

His teeth found my ear again, biting me as he growled, “It doesn’t matter that every male wants to stick his cock inside you. No one will ever have that privilege. They can watch you being fucked. They can fantasise about you, they can dream about you, but they will never touch you because you. Are. Mine.” His thrusts turned quick and sharp, driving me to that final blistering edge. The edge I’d been cruelly shoved back from again and again until my system turned its warfare directly at me.

“Come, Eleanor. Give me everything. I won’t deny you again. You want me to fuck you in a crowded room, I will. You want me to fuck you tied up in front of majesties and politicians, I will. I will fuck you wherever you goddamn want because you are mine.”

Blades of fire.

Knives of pain.

Crashing, clenching waves that crashed through the barrier and poured free.

I screamed as my entire body seized.

Again and again.

I jerked.

I rippled.

I came.

I gasped for air as it went on and on and on.

I died and revived.

I rode through the crest and tumbled off the strongest, most spiteful climax of my life.

And when it’d drained me dry, I opened my eyes and looked directly at the masturbating men.

The tall one’s hand thrust up and down, his thumb rubbed his tip, lips spread into a sinful smile. “He’s right, you know. We all want to fuck you. Especially after seeing you break apart like that.”

“Stop fucking talking to her,” Sully hissed.

Tearing my eyes from inconsequential men, I locked gazes with the only one who mattered. Tears fell fresh, but they were cleansing.

I was reborn. Reincarnated.

Elixir returned to what it’d been designed for.

It stopped tormenting me with tombstones and only dealt in pleasure. I shivered as lust spread through me, hot and hungry, free to release rather than remain trapped within.

“Thank you.” I kissed him. “Thank you.”

He studied my face, searching for a sign of my tattered heart.

It still hurt.

It still flurried in odd ways.

But it was no longer the centre of my world.

He was.

And I want him.

Desire wriggled through me as I drank in the wounds he carried and the stubbornness he wielded. He needed to rest and heal, yet he’d put my needs before his own.

I wished I could turn off the rapidly building lust again.

I wished I could be the girl I was beneath the deranged desire.

But I hadn’t reached that stage yet.

I couldn’t allow denial to play games with my bruised heart.

I would listen to my body, and my body wanted another orgasm.

Three men continued to work themselves while Sully stared into my eyes. A personal, private moment. A moment when we fell deeper into love all while lust swirled around us.

He nodded once, accepting my climb back up a mountain, knowing I’d need his help being pushed off. “I’m sorry, Sully.”

He shook his head, his lips twitching into a half-smile. “Not as sorry as I am that I created this madness.” His head bowed, and his lips found mine.

We kissed sweetly, then greedily. His cock throbbed inside me, hinting he hadn’t come, his focus on me rather than himself.

Placing my hands on his chest, I pushed him gently.

He moved instantly, keenly aware of my brittle state. He watched me like a hunter the entire time I shifted onto my knees and held out my hand to him.

He took it, linking his fingers with mine as I turned around and positioned myself on all fours.

He groaned as I arched my hips.

Elixir scrambled my thoughts again, turning me into a wanton goddess with impish wicked perversions.

Three men watched as Sully rose behind me.

My body was on display.

Our sex tainted the air.

In some segmented part of my mind, I knew this wasn’t an illusion. This wasn’t some fantasy coded in Euphoria. These men were real. The noises coming from their rising lust and the greed fogging the room weren’t a computer program.

No sense deceptors would protect me.

No secrets would shield me.

This was real.

Real men watched me being fucked.

And I didn’t care. I threw myself into elixir, preparing to give in until I could be free. I embraced the sensation of voyeurism because I had no choice. I needed this. I let forth the hidden sins that whispered they enjoyed being watched—enjoyed being hungered after, all while the only man I ever wanted grabbed my hips and jerked me back into his power.

I spread my legs.

I bit my lip.

I moaned as Sully mounted me.

Men groaned.

Sully snarled.

The mercenaries feasted their gazes on every sordid, swollen part of me.

Sully speared deeper, claiming me for his own.

An orgasm appeared with brisk haste.

Digging my nails into the bed, I gave in to it.

I let it consume me, splaying my legs, arching my back.

Sully’s pace increased, mean and maddening.

And I gave in to him too.

I turned submissive and pliant.

I was no longer Eleanor.

I was theirs.

I was mine.

I was elixir’s.

Chapter Thirty-One

DAWN HAD BECOME DAYBREAK, and daybreak had become early morning.

Eleanor had almost died in my arms.

I’d heard the sickness in her breath, listened to the jangle of her heart.

But now...finally, she slept peacefully. Flopped on her side, her skin full of fingerprint bruises, her hair knotted and tangled.

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, doing my best to stay awake and not give in to my overwhelming need to rest.

The three men had watched their fill and left when Eleanor collapsed in my arms from her tenth or twelfth orgasm. They’d wiped away their spent pleasure, zipped up their pants, grabbed the duffel, and walked out the door as if our arrangement had been perfectly acceptable—a common transaction between a scientist who’d found a way to revert women into deranged goddesses and the infidels there to steal his creation.

The ironic thing was, I’d been prepared to kill Drake yesterday to protect what I’d designed, to keep my business, my girls, and my elixir for myself.

Today, I wanted to kill Drake so he’d never make the same mistakes I had. So no other girl would have to suffer the same way Eleanor had suffered last night.

That was the final straw.

I would never allow her to be so close to death again.

I wouldn’t survive the powerlessness of not being unable to help her, the fear of losing her, the guilt of being the cause of it all.

With a tortured groan, I slipped out of bed and stumbled to the walk-in wardrobe. As all our guests’ villas, it was fully stocked with complimentary island attire in case the client arrived with inappropriate clothing.

Pika darted in from the bedroom, his small body descending onto my bare shoulder. “Sully!”

I sighed, snagging a pair of black slacks and black polo. “You watched too, huh?”

He squeaked, his tone full of disapproval.

“I know. It wasn’t what I wanted either.” Carrying the clothes back to the bathroom, I opened the vanity cupboard as Pika flew from my shoulder and scratched around in the cotton buds.