Page 76 of Brutal Birthright

“Oh, fuck. Why do I like it when you call me that?” With a whine, she pushed a trembling hand between her legs.

“Always that middle finger, hmm? That’s what your needy little clit begs for at night when you think of me?” He rumbled in her ear. Making her bite her bottom lip with a tiny angry moan. His height gave the perfect vantage point as he stood looming over her from behind. Giving him just the right angle to watch her finger part her pussy lips and rub desperate circles over that aching bud. His gaze traced the blush erupting across her chest following his taunting words. Mixed with her desire, it consumed her with obvious pleasure.

Taking his own pleasure and dragging it right alongside hers, just from watching her like this, to coil and wind higher again.

She was close to coming already.

Fucked if he could keep his dick out of her any longer.

“I know you’re no stranger to death.” He took her hands and guided them to the rock face of the wall. Kicking her legs apart, he notched himself at her entrance. “That night we first met. You were so fierce. So powerful. I recognised something in you when you killed the woman who hurt Ruby.”

Sliding inside her with a low moan, their bodies both hummed in unison with dark, tingling satisfaction.

“She deserved to die. I wouldn’t have let anyone else have the satisfaction of ending her life.” Oriana had been a vision painted in blood that night. Seeking vengeance for her sister without a second’s hesitation.

A true warrior.

His slow, deep glide had her straining up onto her tiptoes as he hit deep. Again and again.

“I know.” He murmured. It was after that when everything had gone to shit with the coronation and the way he’d been unable to control that wild spirit of hers.

But now things were different.

She was different. Not changed, but refined. More like a blade that had been sharpened. Taking the raw material already there and polishing it to become the best it could be.

“What happens now? What do we do?” She dropped her head forward between her arms. Back arched for him. Moaning softly with each of his thrusts.

Fuck. He didn’t want to think of that. Not while he was balls-deep inside her silky wet cunt.

Rowan shifted his thumb down to her ass. Pressing lightly against her entrance. Teasing that bundle of nerves and applying just enough magic to create a lubricating sensation.

The hitched noise she made told him exactly how good that felt.

“I don’t know. But what I can tell you is that I’m serious when I say you belong to me. I don’t fucking share what’s mine, little faerie.” He pressed his thumb deeper. Breaching the ring of muscle and working her gently with his magic in time with each slow pump of his hips.

She darted a look back at him over her shoulder. Puffy lips parted and eyes glazed over with lust. But there was something in her energy. A lingering question, or maybe a thousand of them. Namely, the unspoken loyalty to her sister, perhaps?

And like the asshole he was, he carried on fucking her and refused to enter that kind of dangerous territory.

“Have you ever taken someone here?” Rowan’s eyes dropped down to where his thumb teased her ass.

“N—No.” The way she clenched around him was a sure sign her orgasm was about to claim her once more.

“My good little whore.” Fuck. He’d be thinking about nothing else but claiming that part of her from now on.

“Please. Please. Ffffuck.”

Picking up the intensity of his thrusts, he reached round with the other hand to rub her clit.

“The middle finger, just the way my dirty faerie likes it.” She fell apart beneath him as his words washed over her and his cock thrust deep inside her.

“Unghhhh. Fuck. Yes. Just like that.” As she clamped down on him, Rowan’s own orgasm shot through him. Hot cum spurted inside her with each jerk of his hips against her ass.

Both of them panting and moaning, they were lost to the waves of sensation dragging them both down into the depths. Or maybe it was tossing their bodies up high to get lost amongst the pillowy clouds. He couldn’t be sure, but wherever he was being taken, it was with her. And that seemed to be the only important thing at that moment.

Once they’d finally stumbled back to sanity and reality, winding up back in his bedroom to get ready to leave, he could feel her eyes on him.

As she dressed herself—producing new garments identical to those he’d sliced off her the day before—she levelled him with a firm stare.

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