My body demanded more. I was over waiting. I would force him to relinquish control, as I had none left to give. Motions turned ragged as I wrenched him closer, lifting a leg high over his hip whilst my tongue fought for dominance.

A masculine growl vibrated from his rib cage and I bit his lip, hard. “Stop playing with me.”

“But it’s my favourite. I love playing with you,” he said, slipping one single finger beneath the thin material to push inside me.

My head fell back from the instant pleasure—until he retracted his touch to lick his finger completely clean.

I stilled at the sight, my inner walls clenching from the loss. “I swear I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Not until I make you cum, you won’t.” He spun me so fast my palms slapped against the shower wall, his front pressing up to my back. I pushed my ass against him and drank down his audible hiss when his cock pushed between my cheeks. “Hold on to the wall, you're gonna fucking need it.”

Before I could cuss him out, he pressed his foot against mine, widening my stance. His palms and mouth traced the tattoo down my back, August settling on his knees behind me. My legs shook from his proximity, his hands rough as they kneaded my ass cheeks. Then I felt the predator stalk forward to take me in his jaws.

August licked from my pussy all the way to my back entrance, finishing the upstroke with his teeth latching onto the plump flesh. I yelped from the sharp sting that undiluted into a burning desire.

“This wonderful ass. I’m gonna fuck it one day,” August purred. I hummed in reply, my mind vacant, lost to his savagery.

August hooked his fingers into my thong and gently pulled it down, the last barrier eradicated. I was running hot. Feverish.

August wasn’t faring any better, vibrant jolts of lust shooting from his very core to ricochet up my body. Then his proverbial barrier completely snapped, the beast clawing from his insides finally freed.

He jerked my hips down to his upturned mouth, snarling like a wild animal. “Back the fuck up and ride my goddamned face, Micah.”

His tongue attacked me from behind, my legs barely holding out, muscles spasming from the intimate claiming.

August fed on me, not missing a single morsel. When his lips sucked me in, I relinquished to his ravenous hunger. My hips writhed to a punishing beat, my forehead hit the tiles and my panting moans echoed through the acoustic bathroom.

“That’s it, baby. Ride me hard,” his voice muffled from between my legs as his motions increased in tempo.

My skin prickled at the impending high when August suddenly slapped my ass hard, then immediately shoved two fingers so fucking deep I never stood a chance.

The world blackened and my tight walls spasmed, clenching onto his intruding fingers as they fought to stay inside me. I collapsed, August catching my descent with his waiting mouth.

He continued at a leisurely pace, easing the aftershocks of my orgasm to a persistent rhythm of desire that refused to completely disappear.

When I was stable enough to stand on my own two feet, he steadied my stance and rotated my hips so I was facing him once more. August remained on his knees, his expression filthy and smug as all fuck. Until his eyes caught on my new tattoo. His features transformed into the most serious expression I’d ever seen.

He reverently stroked the red flower and rose to stand as sure-footed as any gladiator who had conquered another arena. “Gladiolus? That wasn’t there last time,” he said, fingers digging into the image stamped on my upper thigh.

I peppered kisses up his throat, if only to escape his penetrating gaze.

“Did you know that in Roman times,” I said. “when gladiators fought to the death in the arena and won, they’d be showered in Gladioli flowers?”

He nodded. “I also know it’s the birth flower for the month of August.”

I pulled back at his restrained tone, catching the strangest look in his eyes. “You’re undefeated, are you not?”

He shook his head, grasped one of my hands and placed it over his sternum, his heart pummelling beneath. “You’re wrong. I’ve been bested—completely annihilated—by the most worthy opponent,” he said, voice guttural and hoarse.

What is this feeling permeating from his chest into mine?

“You brought me to my knees, Micah. A place I never considered I’d want to stay.” He lifted my legs so I could wrap them around his waist.

With August’s smooth length pressed between us, he began to thrust slowly, his throbbing cock sliding against my clit in blissful pressure. “Now I stand before you as a humble servant, awaiting your royal decree, begging for mercy.”

Then it all clicked together, his words and expression cementing his image into place. I don’t know how I’d missed it before. I’d been too caught up in the frenetic events of the night to truly capture the essence of him.

I stared into the bottomless voids that were his eyes. But instead of getting lost, I found him—all of him. Two halves connected as one. Truly an otherworldly being that was so bright and beautiful, my heart expanded close to bursting from the knowledge.

“Psycho?”

He inhaled a raspy breath, triggering his Variant to unforeseen lengths. I watched him become one before me, potent emotion leaking from his very pores.

Fulfilment, completion and gratitude. It all wrecked me, attacked me, consumed me.

I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips hard against his, winding my fingers tightly through his midnight blue hair.

After a split second of hesitation, his tongue fought mine, and when his teeth scraped against my lower lip, a moan climbed up my throat for him to consume.

When he positioned himself at my entrance, he stilted for permission.

“Are you Psycho, or August Mathers?”

“He is me. I am him. We are one in the same,” his words ethereal, two vocals thundering together to form one voice.

I licked my lips, his gaze catching on the movement.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

I nodded. “A gift I’d afford no other.” Pushing my hips forward, the tip of his cock slid inside me, the movement triggering his complete undoing. With a strong surge, he thrust all the way to the hilt. We both groaned, my pussy adjusting to his intimidating size.

“Fucking…so soft, so warm and so fucking tight,” he said while pumping in and out, hitting that sweet spot each and every time.

“So full. I’m so fucking ful—” He cut off my tirade by shoving his tongue between my teeth. Our carnal desperation fused together, rising to impossible heights.

“You’re mine, Micah. You’re fucking mine, you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“You’re so sweet, so wet, baby, dripping all over my fucking cock.”

I begged and pleaded, incoherent with my mumbled ramblings. How he made sense of what I was asking was beyond me, but he gave it to me anyway.

Increasing his pace, he slammed into me so hard I could feel him twitching. Both of us were so damn close to orgasm. My mind fractured at the tips of reality.

“Fuck. No!” Psycho snarled. I whined when he slipped out and left me empty and wanting.

What the fuck is he doing?