The bed groans, curved wooden feet bowing precariously outward as Lord Bluefire flops backward onto the mattress. His thick fingers work at his belt, undoing the heavy silver buckle. It falls to the side with a thump on the coverlet.

I watch as he pushes his trousers down, releasing his shaft from its confinement. It springs up eagerly, slapping his hairy stomach as he pants with anticipation. The same cannot be said for me.

I want to feel desire, but I might as well be a decorative egg—adorned with jewels and paint on the outside, yet utterly hollow within.

How could Morgana do this to me? I've never asked her for anything, yet she swoops in to claim him for herself when I show interest in a man. I've given her my loyalty, my friendship; let her use my body to test her potential lovers. I've shared my secrets, dreams, joys, and sorrows with her. And this is how she repays me?

"Isabel," Lord Bluefire groans, stroking his shaft as his pants gather around his ankles.

Crimsonshadow Pack's enforcer has no idea what lies behind my eyes. All he sees is a woman wearing a dress that hangs loosely from her body, the ties snapped in half after he attempted to undo them. He doesn't see me; he sees the Whore of Daroonga.

I knew this when I asked him to take Lord Blackwood's spot at the end of my dance card.

I certainly knew when I asked him to return to my room.

So what am I complaining about?

My feet move automatically toward the bed. This room is larger than the laundress's closet in Daroonga, but my objective is still the same.

I stoop and remove Lord Bluefire's heavy boots, pulling his trousers off. His hips thrust and I wonder if he's going to finish himself off without any help from me.

"C'mere," the enforcer mumbles, sitting up. He shrugs off his shirt and reaches for me. I let him slide the dress and stays from my shoulders, his large hands running up and down my side. "Goddess, you are such a beautiful girl."

"Mm-hm," I murmur distantly. Just a gamma in service to the queen. Nothing more, nothing less.

Lord Bluefire puts a hand behind my neck, drawing my head down. I turn away and his lips brush against my cheek. "No kissing?" he asks, sounding disappointed.

I shake my head. "No." It's a rule I've had with every male I've tested for Morgana. Kissing is too intimate for what I do. I want to save it for my future mate. Now I wonder if Morgana will ever allow me to be married.

"Oh," he replies, resigned. "Can I kiss you in other places?"

It's strange, watching this enforcer beg like a little pup. It should give me power, but I only feel pity.

"Only if you pass," I tell him, reaching for the hem of my shift. I pull it off in one smooth, practiced motion and toss it onto a nearby chair.

"Pass?" he grunts, watching me strip with dark, eager eyes.

I nod and slip my underwear off, kicking it behind me. "Lie down, Lord Bluefire."

He complies, crumpling the coverlet as he lies flat on the bed, feet dangling off the edge. I eye his throbbing shaft and wonder for a moment if I should reconsider this liaison. It's no larger than what I've tried in the past—it's the girth I'm worried about.

Wouldn't Morgana love that? Her handmaiden split in two upon an enforcer's cock?

How absurd. A strangled giggle bursts from my throat and I quickly cover my mouth with one hand. Thankfully, Lord Bluefire is too preoccupied to notice. I climb onto the bed and settle myself over his thighs. If women can birth pups, I can accommodate one enforcer.

I rock my hips forward, sliding my seam along his iron shaft. Lord Bluefire groans, curling his fingers over my thighs. "Goddess, you're a hot little gamma," he gasps, moving his hands up to dig into my buttocks.

It's not the worst I've heard—nor the best. Males will say all sorts of things when with a woman—from poetic to filthy. I merely tune them out.

I brace my hands on the enforcer's hairy chest and move back and forth, rubbing my nub against his heated skin.

"F-fuck!" he exclaims, circling his hips.

He's trying to get inside me, but I'm not ready yet. Closing my eyes, I tilt my chin and grind against Lord Bluefire. Pleasure radiates from that tiny bundle of nerves as I move, wetness slicking the enforcer's shaft. Awareness of the room and the man between my legs fade as I picture a different scenario—one that includes a blond, bearded beta.

It's Alaric's hands that dig into my flesh; it's his shaft that I ride. A small moan leaves my lips as the desire I've been chasing finally ignites. My movements become frantic, driven by a desperate urge to prolong the sensation for as long as possible and at the same time, come to an explosive conclusion.

A familiar band tightens in my belly as I chase that indelible high. Lord Bluefire's moans recede in my ears, his fingers tightening on my legs. His hips thrust up to meet mine, tossing me upward. I clench with my thighs, digging my fingers into the dark black pelt on his chest to keep my balance.

I'm too far gone to stop and slide him inside me. I continue grinding against his shaft until the band snaps. "Ah, goddess!" I cry out as my body curves like a bow. I am still water and my climax is a series of rocks tossed into the pond, the resulting ripples expanding outward to touch the shore.

I sag forward, arms trembling, hair falling forward to cover my breasts. Goddess, it's been a long time since I felt that way.

"Did I pass?" a rough male voice inquires.

I lift my head slowly and push the curtain of hair away from my face. Lord Bluefire stares at me, his irises twin amber rings of arousal.

Oh, he's still here.

I sigh, then draw air deep into my lungs. That's the problem with dreams—they always end.

Pushing myself into a sitting position, I look at the enforcer. The iron shaft between my legs twitches as I move, reminding me of its presence. I can't exactly tell him to leave.

Well, I could, but that wouldn't be fair. I did invite him here after all.

"Yes, you did," I tell him breathlessly, rolling off his thick bulk and onto the bed.

With all the eagerness of a green male, the enforcer flips over and covers me with his massive body. I close my eyes again as he pushes my knees apart, settling his weight between them. His calloused palms run over my breasts, pinching and twisting my nipples without finesse. Despite having just climaxed, I find my body responding to this rough handling—perhaps because I don't allow the men Morgana sends to touch me thusly.

I feel the scrape of his jaw as he runs his tongue over a nipple, one hand on my left breast, the other trailing down between my legs. My hips tilt up automatically as he presses two fingers inside my core.

"Oh!" I exclaim, hands digging into the coverlet.

"Such a good little gamma," he mutters around my puckered flesh, pressing his fingers deeper inside. "So hot and wet."

"Mm," I reply, neither a confirmation nor a denial.

I feel his hot breath move over my body, from breastbone to belly. The enforcer's tongue laves the bare skin of my mound, then dips inside. "Oh!" I shout, drawing my legs up and spreading them wide.

He traces every fold, searches every crevice with long, broad strokes, fingers curling inside me. My breath leaves my lungs in pants, arousal curling in my belly. Lord Bluefire's tongue reaches my sensitive nub, sweeping up and down the throbbing flesh.

Suddenly, he grunts and surges upward. My eyes snap open and I look across my body as the enforcer grabs his shaft in one hand. He leans forward, fitting his girth to my slick entrance.

"OH!" I shout, eyes widening as he slowly pushes into me. My head falls back onto the coverlet and I lift my hips to meet his thrust, inner walls stretching to accommodate his size.

"So tight—ugh!" the enforcer growls, crawling up my body.

I can no longer hold onto the sheets. My arms come up, grabbing Lord Bluefire by the shoulders. He groans in surprise, slamming the rest of his length home. I lift my legs, locking my ankles behind his buttocks.

He begins to move—slowly, at first, then with a pounding relentlessness that knocks all sense out of my head. There's no love here, not an inch of sensuality. Just raw, unadulterated fucking.

His girth stretches my walls, hitting places few men have been able to reach. I cry out as his pelvic bone rubs against my nub, overstimulating the sensitive flesh. Goddess, I'm sure to be bruised all over come tomorrow morning.

My cries, his grunts, and the wet slapping of our skin fill the bedchamber.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he shouts, the last curse culminating in a low howl.

Something primeval snaps inside me and I climax, bearing down on his shaft with all my might. Euphoria washes over me like a rainstorm and I feel oddly cleansed. Lord Bluefire continues to thrust, but his movements quickly become sloppy; through the haze of my pleasure, I can sense him on the edge.

He grunts harshly and stiffens, flooding my core with his seed.

Goddess!

I take a deep breath and slowly open my eyes, blinking as they adjust to the light. The enforcer's head hangs low, his barrel chest heaving with exertion. An elongated groan leaves his lips and he pulls back and out. My insides protest this sudden removal, feeling strangely empty.

Lifting my head, I focus on his face, but his eyes are distant. Without a word, he rolls over onto his back and promptly falls asleep.

Ah ...

Harsh reality slams into me and I sigh, tilting my chin toward the ceiling.

... of course.