My head falls back against his chest, my mind adrift in a lurid haze, my body succumbing to his primal touch.

As his hand coasts higher up my inner thigh, his thumb abrasively grazes the sensitive folds shielded only by the sheer material of my panties, and I suck in a shocked breath. My body pulses in time with the flickering lights.

I clamp my thighs closed, trapping his hand. “Keep going,” I say, my voice shaky and barely registering over the climbing music.

I feel his growl rip from the deep trench of his chest. “You want me to keep going,” he says, a taunt. “Or keep going…” He parts my legs and splays his fingers over my clit and lips. “How the fuck am I supposed to focus when you’re soaking my hand through your fucking panties, Halen?”

His admission does something dangerous to me, and I feed off it, lost in a heated tangle of lust and uninhibited yearning.

Somewhere in the background of my mind, I register a sprig of regret. But the atmosphere is too intoxicating, and Kallum is too persuasive—and the desire for oblivion is too fucking irresistible.

I thrust my hand between my thighs and cup his fingers, undulating my hips to push against his palm with shameless urgency.

“Goddamn.” His growl gathers my muscles tight before he sinks his teeth into the soft junction between my shoulder and neck.

The sharp pain spirals through me, and I moan as it invokes emotions that have lain dormant, dulled by heartache. The piercing of his teeth overrides the blunt ache, and my body flares with the insatiable need to be touched—desperate for the fiery alchemy to meld pain into pleasure.

Kallum teases the frenzy from my soul, like a sorcerer cloaking us in a storm of licentious fury and madness, and as his fingers erotically knead between my thighs, I whimper, pulled under by the salacious feel, my body starved for what I’ve denied it for so long.

His mouth touches the shell of my ear, breaths heavy and sawing over the throbbing bite mark. “I’m going to tear through you like a ravenous animal.”

His dark groan resonates in my chest, urging my hips to heave in the most tawdry taunt as lust burns under my skin. I’m so close to losing control.

Surender the pain.

Feeling pain is a choice.

The realization comes with a stark epiphany, the ability to choose to be lost to my pain, or to surrender to pleasure. The maddening chaos delivers clarity.

“Oh, my god,” I say, shuddering as Kallum’s thumb ring sweeps over my nipple, causing me to almost break. My core clenches, my lower back arches, and I sinfully spread my thighs as the intense pull stealing my breath.

But the fight to maintain clarity burns through the haze. “I know why he’s stalling,” I say, “why he’s not done.”

Kallum’s hand winds into my hair and grasps at the roots, and the feel is so seductive, the pleasure so addictive that I realize…

The offender is lost to pleasure. He seduced himself into a state of perpetual frenzy.

“Why suffer a painful ascension when you can fulfill every desire, experience every pleasure?” I ask aloud. Nietzsche claimed the path to ascension was through pain. That’s why the worthy are so few.

The suspect is questioning his worthiness.

As Kallum rocks our bodies in sync, I mentally comb over my notes. “He’s been seduced by the herd,” I say, following the logic. “He has to overcome his bodily desires, but if he can’t…” I trail off at the sensual feel of Kallum’s hand collaring my neck from behind.

The eyes. The ears. The dissected body parts appearing in the marsh.

He’s working up to his ultimate sacrifice.

Kallum’s violent growl proceeds the stab of his rock-hard cock against my ass. “Save it for your profile,” he says, then he twirls me around, bringing my chest flush against his. His hand captures my face in a commanding grip. “I want to taste your frenzy.”

Desperate to see his eyes, to see something past the bottomless abyss, I lift my gaze to his.

The room vibrates around us. As if in slow motion, our gazes collide. His penetrating eyes ensnare me, and I can’t hide from him—I can’t pretend what’s happening between us isn’t affecting me, changing me.

Kallum tips my face up. The cool press of his thumb ring against my chin clashes with the searing heat beneath my skin, and when he thrusts his hand under my dress and his fingers graze the seam of my panties, my teeth sink into my lip.

The coppery taste touches my tongue, and a growl unleashes from deep within his chest.

He smears his thumb across the blood on my lip, then brings it to his mouth. An uncontrollable tremor attacks my belly as he pushes against the barrier of my panties and licks my blood from his thumb at the same time.

“I knew your pain would taste sweet.”

“You’re a monster,” I say.

His tongue sweeps his lips, and the volatile intensity I glimpse there—the insatiable hunger—nearly levels me as his gaze drops to my mouth.

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it they don’t become one,” he says, paraphrasing Nietzsche’s infamous line. “But in my little Halen’s case, I think you crave the touch of the monster as badly as the fight.”

I push away from him, making it as far as staggering into a dancing couple before he seizes my wrist. I resist making a scene, letting him draw me back into his arms. My breaths tear through my chest as I restrain the urge to claw his skin.

My nails sink into his forearms, but this only brings a devious smile to his face.

His arm binds my lower back and he dips me low. Holding me angled beneath him, his wicked eyes devour me.

Breath trapped in my lungs, the pressure builds until I’m forced to release it, a moan escaping as Kallum’s hungry gaze consumes me. He brings his lips so close to mine, he inhales me right along with my breaths.

His eyes flick over my face, tracing a fiery path over the contours of my neck, then he slips his finger under the pendant resting against my throat.

“Tell me,” he says, staring at the teardrop diamond. “Did he make you feel this alive?”

The air vacates my lungs.

As if falling in a dream, the terrifying sensation prickles my skin, then suddenly I wake up before hitting the ground. The party crashes around me, reality snapping into focus, vivid and clear.

I push against Kallum’s chest. “Let go—”

“I can’t do that.”

I wedge my knee between us and, before I actually hit the floor, Kallum catches me and brings me upright.

With a forceful spin, I windmill my arms and break out of his hold. I shove through the crush of bodies, unsure of which direction I’m going, but I get far enough away from people and music and the panic ripping me apart.

The hallway is dark and lined with locked doors. I try three before I find an open room, where I slam the door and press my back to the cool wood. I’m able to steal two unobstructed breaths before the door drives me forward, and Kallum’s towering form fills the doorway.

He shuts the door, barring me from escape and muffling the music. The snick of the lock sliding into place detonates through the room and my body.

For every step he takes, I retreat a step backward, until my back lands flush against the wall. This is someone’s bedroom. There’s a bed and pillows and a desk—but there is nothing within reach to use as a weapon.

The dark is smothering and complete…except the blinking red light on Kallum’s ankle monitor.

He takes another step forward.

His hands come up on either side of my head, barricading me against the wall. “We’re not done.” His voice is too low, too deceptively calm.

“We’re absolutely done,” I say, instilling strength I don’t feel. “I’m filing the paperwork. My private life is off limits.”

He slams his hands against the wall, making me flinch. My breaths tremble past my lips on a whimper. “We’re not done .”