Legacy of Kings

He was the darkness to my light, a twisted forbidden fruit. Stalker. Sinner. Dominator. He created reality from dark and sensual nightmares. Yet I craved them. And I hungered for him. Xander Blackwell was all things dangerous and possessive, requiring me to surrender. Demanding I submit to every brutal command. While the passion was savagely intense, his discipline without remorse, his touch and uncontrollable sadistic desire peeled away every layer, exposing the wanton and subversive woman within.

When Zachariah Blackwell caught me sneaking into his office to spy on the Obsidian Society, the brutal bastard bent me over his desk and belted my ass before claiming it even more roughly. Then my billionaire boss—the same man I've seen break another man's arm for daring to put his hands on me—told me he was in my house last night. Watching me writhe and moan in my sleep. Hearing me whisper his name as I slid my fingers beneath my panties. Knowing he was ripping my clothes off and ravaging me in my dreams.

I was his even before he hunted me down. When Wilder Blackwell bent me over the railing of his private balcony and made me scream his name into the night, I thought he was just the ruthlessly sexy billionaire who already claimed me in the back of his limo. Not the stalker who would kill any man who touches me. Or the brute who hunted me down and spanked my bare ass as I writhed and begged. But by the time he carried me off, I knew he was all three. And that just made me come harder for him.