Patricia was still trembling against the glass, her body a taut wire of need from the fevered dance. Her pussy was a soaked, throbbing ache, the silk shorts transparent with her want. She'd been so agonizingly close to a blissful release, but he'd pulled back, his forehead resting against hers, both of them breathing in the charged silence.

Then the world tilted.

The air grew thick, heavy, infused with an ancient, primal energy that unfurled from him like smoke. His Taboo Aura exploded outward, a wave of pure, forbidden desire that crashed over her, sinking into her skin, and setting every nerve ending ablaze. It was a force that made taboo feel sacred and wrong feel like the only right that had ever existed.

Her body answered instantly—nipples hardened to painful points, her pussy clenched and flooded with fresh heat.

"Oh god," she whimpered, "What—what is—"

"That is me," Eros murmured against her ear, his voice a low growl of possession. "Feel how I dissolves every rule, every inhibition. You're going to feel things you've never allowed yourself to feel." The aura intensified, sinking deeper, into her bones, her blood.

Then his Lust Presence joined it. Patricia's knees buckled, only his grip on her waist keeping her upright. It was a different, more invasive assault—a phantom touch. It felt like invisible hands were caressing her, like ghost lips were kissing her, like she was already being fucked without a single finger on her skin.

"Fuck," she gasped. "I can feel—it's like you're everywhere at once."

"Exactly," he confirmed. "I will make your body think it's already been claimed. Makes you feel owned." And she did. She felt phantom pressure on her breasts, phantom warmth on her neck, phantom fingers stroking her slick folds, her body building toward an orgasm from pure, unadulterated hallucination.

"Please," she begged, the sound tearing from her throat. "I can't—"

"I know what you need," he said softly, but then his voice changed. His eyes dilated, a terrifying, wonderful light glowing behind them.

His Eyes activated. Suddenly, he could see everything—her body a radiant map of glowing pleasure points. Her breasts were bright red, her nipples white-hot. Her throat, her stomach, her inner thighs all pulsed with responsive color. And her pussy… god, her pussy was a blazing sun.

"Patricia," he whispered, his voice full of reverence. "I can see all of you. Every spot that will make you scream. I can see exactly what you need."

"Then give it to me!" she begged, her voice cracking.

"Scream it for me," he commanded, his voice dropping an octave. "Let this whole fucking penthouse hear how much you want it."

"Yes!" The word was a fragile whisper.

"Louder."

"YES!" Her voice shrieked, echoing off the glass and soaring to the high ceilings.

"Tell me!"

"I WANT YOU TO KISS ME! TOUCH ME! WORSHIP ME! PLEASE! PLEASE!" Her voice, desperate and shameless, filled the eight thousand square feet, a declaration of war against her old, invisible self.

"That's my girl," he groaned, the sound a deep victory. "Now let me show you what real worship feels like."

He lifted her, a feat of such effortless strength it made her gasp, and carried her to the plush sectional. His Enhanced Sight showed him the glowing, aching map of her arousal.

"Every inch of you," he promised, "is going to feel this a thousand times more intensely than you've ever felt anything."

Then he knelt and activated his Magical Touch.

The moment his fingers threaded through her hair, Patricia gasped, a jolt of pure orgasmic pleasure cascading across her scalp. "Oh god, your touch!"

"Out of the world," he murmured, stroking her hair. "By the time I'm done with you, your entire body will be one giant erogenous zone." He lowered his mouth, not starting gentle. He kissed the crown of her head, then her forehead, his voice a commanding growl. "This beautiful face that looks at me like I'm salvation."

He kissed her temples, her eyelids. "Open your eyes. Watch me worship you." Her eyes snapped open. He moved to her cheeks, kissing with open-mouthed heat, his tongue tasting her skin, making sounds she'd never made tear from her throat.

"Yes," he encouraged, "let me hear you. Let this whole space know."

He moved down her jaw, his teeth involved now, gentle nips that made her arch and gasp for air. "This jaw that clenches when you're trying to hold back. Stop fighting. Let go."

He reached her throat. And Patricia's entire world exploded. His mouth latched onto her pulse point, sucking, biting, marking her with a bruise so dark she knew it would last a week.

"OH GOD!" The scream ripped from her, bouncing off the windows.

"Scream for me, Patricia! Let me hear it!"

He worked down her throat, sucking and biting, leaving a trail of hickies that felt like a brand. "EROS! OH GOD, EROS!" He reached her chest, grabbing the silk camisole and ripping it over her head in one swift motion. Her perfect breasts spilled out, nipples hard as diamonds, and he stared.

"Fuck," he breathed. "Perfect."

He descended on her right breast, his mouth closing over the nipple and sucking hard. His tongue swirled, his teeth grazed, and she screamed, her back arching off the couch.

He groped her other breast, squeezing, pinching the neglected nipple, pulling another cry from her lips. He didn't just worship; he devoured. He moved across her chest, biting the soft flesh, sucking dark purple bruises onto the pale skin of her breasts. He marked every inch, leaving her swollen and throbbing and covered in his ownership.

He moved down her stomach, biting her ribs, sucking on each one until dark circles bloomed. Her hipbones received his special attention—biting down hard on each, leaving perfect imprints of his teeth that would throb for days.

"PLEASE! OH GOD, PLEASE!"

He grabbed the soaked silk shorts. "These need to go." He ripped them. The fabric tore, and he pulled the ruined silk away, staring at the glistening, swollen perfection of her pussy. "Look at you," he breathed reverently. "Fucking perfect." But he didn't touch it.

Instead, he moved to her thighs, spreading her wide and lowering his mouth to the sensitive inner skin. He bit down. Hard.

"EROS!" He sucked at the mark, then moved higher, biting again, leaving a trail of dark, possessive bruises from her knee to where her thigh met her hip. He gave her other leg the same devastating treatment, leaving her inner thighs a canvas of his worship. "PLEASE! I NEED—!"

"I know what you need," he growled, "but I'm not done marking you. Turn over."

Shaking, she obeyed, lying face down, her marked breasts pressing into the cushions. He started at the nape of her neck, biting hard. "Louder," he commanded, fisting her hair and pulling her head up. "Don't muffle yourself."

"EROS!" she screamed into the room. He bit down her spine, marking each vertebra, leaving a violent, beautiful line of possession down her back.

He reached the small of her back, sucking a massive bruise into the flesh there. Then he grabbed her ass, spreading her cheeks and biting each one hard, leaving them gloriously marked. He moved to her sides, her shoulder blades, leaving no part of her back untouched.

When he was done, she was sobbing, overwhelmed with sensation. "Turn over," he commanded. "Let me see all my work."

Patricia slowly turned, looking down at her body. She looked destroyed. Claimed. From neck to thighs, she was a landscape of purple bruises and sharp teeth marks. Every inch of her was his.

And her pussy, still untouched, throbbed with a need that felt like it could split her in two.

Eros crawled up her body, his eyes dark with possession as he took in his handiwork. He cupped her face, a stark, gentle contrast to the brutal marking, and finally, finally kissed her lips.

The kiss was explosive, a brand from the inside out. His tongue invaded her mouth, and she screamed into his, a raw, hoarse sound of pure surrender. When they broke apart, gasping, he rested his forehead against hers.

"I've kissed every inch of you," he said, his voice a rough, satisfied growl. "Marked you. Made you mine. Do you feel it?"

She could only nod, her voice completely gone.

"Good," he said, a dark promise in his tone. "Because now, I'm going to make you come. And you're going to scream loud enough that the whole fucking city hears you. I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."

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