Page 89 of Brutal Birthright

With a rough-sounding curse, Rowan pulled out. Then flipped her over in one swift movement. Laying her flat on her back so that he stood like a commanding force between her spread legs at the edge of the table.

She had to bite her lip to stop the mewling little begging noises that threatened to spill from her tongue. Aching for all of him. Surging, raw desire rolled through her body in wave after wave.

Rowan reached down with a hot palm and cupped her nipple. Roughly squeezing the stiff peak until she squirmed and her back bowed with pleasure. Then he growled and slapped the side of her breast.

The stinging pain quickly melted into euphoria.

How did this man know exactly what her body needed? It was so much more than magic or spells or his ability to drive her insane with need for him.

“Is this all it takes to shut that mouth of yours? Stuffing you full of my cock?” Furious blue eyes cut into her. His fingers, rough and seeking against her hips, held her still as she tried to buck up towards him.

But he pinned her down and refused to give her the release she so desperately chased after.

“Please.” Please. Please. She was out of her mind with the need to come. Rowan had been edging her for what felt like hours. Dragging her to the precipice and then cruelly denying her over and over.

He pressed a heavy palm against her throat. Collaring her with his thick, inked fingers and looking down at her splayed out before him like a feast. Or maybe a sacrifice.

Something darkened in his eyes before he cocked his head to one side. The predatory action and utter menace in his expression made her pussy clench. Goosebumps rippled down her arms, and she suddenly felt very, very at his mercy.

But this was the game she’d signed up to play, after all.

Rowan had promised never to hurt her… unless she asked for it. But right now, there was more of the warlord present in him than usual. And she wasn’t sure why that made her pulse race with a chaotic blend of trepidation laced with excitement.

The quiet noise of metal being unsheathed filled the room.

All of a sudden, the sight of one of her gold daggers flashed across her vision. Rowan weighed it in his big paw while the other remained locked around her throat. Squeezing with his fingers, he increased the pressure for a moment, then released it, over and over. Watching her through hooded eyes. Ri could feel her heart in the back of her throat, hammering wildly as tension wound and thrashed inside her body.

Well, fuck.

Not knowing what his next move would be was hypnotic. Addictive. The kind of shit she knew better than to allow herself to be so transfixed by, and yet here she lay. Ready and willing and enthusiastically awaiting his punishment.

His perfect little whore indeed.

“I think it’s time you bled for me, little faerie.” He murmured darkly. Flicking the blade around his fingers with the kind of deft precision that left her panting. Promising all sorts of wicked deeds with each glint of gold running over his tattooed knuckles.

As she squirmed and softly moaned, he brought the tip of the blade to the indent just below her collarbone. Pausing for just a second to fix her with a heated gaze that set her soul alight. Giving her the opportunity to say no if she didn’t want this.

But oh, how desperately she did.

“Do it.” Her breathy voice was enough to tip him beyond whatever momentary restraint he’d been able to wield.

Quick, bold movements pressed down against the soft swell of her breast, at the spot just below her collarbone. Carving into her flesh with a precision and grace that belied his bulky stature. This was a man who wore the suit of war like a second skin, and weapons were his tools to paint his masterpiece.

She felt the sting of a razor-sharp edge, followed by a cool, soothing sensation rushing through her—magic seeped beneath his fingers and down into her body. The welling of her blood around the spot was evident as he drew the blade back, and the golden tip was painted in stark crimson.

Something dark and desirous flared in his eyes as he ran the flat of the weapon across his tongue. Leaving a smear of bright, bloodied victory painting the curve of his lower lip.

Goddess-fucking-damnit, he looked even more gorgeous than ever.

Lowering the blood-covered metal towards her mouth, he offered her the other side.

“Open up, like the dirty little thing I know you are.” Her jaw slackened, and she obediently parted her lips. There was something wild in his blue eyes as he slid the bloodied point across her outstretched tongue, allowing her to taste herself in those coppery notes.

He hummed his approval and dragged the flat side of the blade down her chin, leaving a trail of wetness—that must have been more blood—before continuing a path down her sternum. Trailing between her breasts with gentle pressure. Not cutting into the skin, but with every searing inch the dagger gently touched, it was a reminder of just how easily he could slice her open if he wanted to.

“So beautiful when you bleed.” He leant forward and ran his tongue over the spot where he’d cut her skin. The hot, wet glide of his mouth against the sharp sting of the fresh wound sent her mind racing. He ran his tongue down and swirled it around her nipple. She could feel the fat head of his cock nudging against her soaked entrance as he shifted his weight over her.

The blade was dropped onto the table just above her head.

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