Giselle was still shaking, thighs slick and trembling, when Lena finally untied her wrists and left with a reverent kiss on her swollen clit and a whispered promise: “I’ll be back tomorrow with new toys. Rest while you can.”

The curse did not let her rest.

Barely an hour later, the golden pulse inside Giselle flared again, hotter and more insistent. It tugged low in her belly like an invisible leash, flooding her veins with fresh, aching need. Her clit throbbed painfully, still hypersensitive from Lena’s relentless tongue and fingers. Every small movement against the ruined sheets sent sparks shooting through her overstimulated body.

She should have locked the door....