Page 54 of Brutal Birthright

Rowan shoved two fingers inside her. The slick sound of how wet she was filled the room. Her head tipped back at the feel of him pressing inside her for the first time.

A dark groan sent vibrations through her pussy. His mouth stilled for a moment, and he muttered something dark and ancient before fastening back over her like he was pissed off she was so wet.

Fucking fuck.

He plunged in and out of her while his mouth continued to tease at her clit. Working her back up to the edge in embarrassingly quick fashion.

“Fffuck. Please.” She tried to shift her hips to get his fingers even deeper, but with the bruising hold on one thigh and him devouring her like his last meal, she didn’t have much choice but to allow the orgasm to be wrenched out of her.

She was a shaking, whimpering mess beneath him.

Rowan made a noise that sounded like approval, or maybe disdain; she couldn’t be sure anymore—still moving his fingers slowly in and out of her. Drawing out right to the edge and circling her entrance before sliding deep inside. She couldn’t look at him. Her body was ablaze and liquid all at the same time. Her nipples ached to be touched, squeezed, and played with, but there was no way she could articulate any of that.

He’d just made her come twice like it was nothing.

If she’d ever had any doubts as to the danger of this man, now she knew.

She should absolutely be terrified of him.

Rowan spelled danger and trouble and agony.

Which was further reinforced when, instead of pulling away, he wedged a third finger inside her. Dragging a low moan out of her throat. She sagged down, until her head tipped back to hit the table with a soft thud. The weight of his gaze on her was too much; even with her eyes screwed firmly shut she could feel the way he watched her.

There was no way…

But her body had other ideas.

Maybe she’d never finished the second orgasm, but the third one reared up with teeth and claws, ready to crawl out her throat with a silent scream.

As his thick fingers stretched her wide and he pumped in and out of her, his filthy words washed over her in a way that shouldn’t have made her buck her hips and clamp down on him, but did. All the hot and dirty things that fell from his mouth drove her into a whimpered, moaning mess as he called her a little faerie whore and a filthy girl and, through a gritted jaw, told her that her desperate cunt begged for his cock. Ri came on his fingers with a broken moan as his teeth grazed her clit.

She’d been right that day in the armoury. This man could absolutely talk her to orgasm.

Rowan had survived nearly three hundred years of battle.

Could wield any weapon like an extension of his own body.

Spoke the language of combat and counter-manoeuvres and tactical expertise that only his magic could decipher.

But he’d never found himself in a situation like this before.

Where his every instinct had been to keep the girl locked away in his room. To indulge in whatever this growing obsession was. To hear her sweet, breathy little moans and feel that silky wet channel squeeze around his cock.

To tell the world to get fucked and drown in the heady pleasure she’d provided.

Fuck. She’d been so godsdamned wet. Coating his tongue and his face and his hand in the kind of addictive nectar he’d never imagined could be within his grasp.

For someone to be so unbelievably soft and pliant for him, yet able to meet his hard edges with her own fierceness.

This was a girl who wouldn’t break under his force. Merely bend and flex and show resilience in a way that made his dick hard and his balls ache.

Dragging three orgasms out of her wasn’t enough. But it would have to do.

So rather than giving in to the insanity threatening to burst out of his chest, he did what anyone would do who had just barely restrained themselves from shoving their dick inside the hottest, sweetest cunt he’d ever tasted.

He left.

Well, more accurately, he delivered her… and then fucked off.

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