When Sunday Fallon is shipped off to Ravenscroft university, she feels the need to exert freedom because all her life she has been caged up.

She does not expect to meet her mate that she rejected seven years ago, or the isolation that she would face.

Carnal obsession

Islammed my locker closed, loathing the necessity of such a mortal convenience. I had a private shower and changing area, perks of the family name, but in times such as these—when I was intent on ‘bumping into’ a certain pretty dove—convenience trumped indulgence. Thus my willing use of the men’s changing room.


Our conversation had been interrupted, and I intended to finish it. A mission that would be much easier to accomplish from here. Ideally, by intercepting her on her way back to her flat and locating a nearby alcove to pull her into until I had her moaning my name in defeat. She thought I’d let her go easily? Not a fucking chance. I may be a prince, but I was far from a gentleman.


I may not be able to sink my teeth—or my cock, for that matter—into her, but that didn’t mean I was about to let her go off seeking pleasure in the hands of any other man, either. Sunday Fallon was mine. And it was well past time she realized it.


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