Page 36 of When Kings Rise

My tongue shoots out and runs across her lips, forcing them to part. When my hand trails across her breasts and in between her legs, she speaks.

“Please don’t.” Her plea is soft.

But the darkness she has ignited in me doesn’t allow me to stop. “Are you going to stop me?” I ask.

Her gaze darts around the space. “Physically, I can’t.” She grits her teeth.

“Did you not swear obedience when you became one of my Brides?” I dip my head in and kiss her again before trailing kisses up to her earlobe. “Who told you that I was a hitman?”

When I look back in her eyes, I see her resolve as strong as before. I hate that she is protecting someone.

“Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

“If I tell you, will you kill the person?” She questions.

I grin. “Most likely.”

“Then I won’t tell you.” I hate the thought that she could care for someone else. She must know she’s mine; if she doesn’t, I will show her.

I run my hand back between her legs, and she tightens her thighs together as if she could stop me.

“You like my touch; I remember how wet you were for me.” I pop the first button of her jeans and then pull down the zipper while holding her hands above her head.

“Let’s see if you are as repulsed as you are acting?” I dip my finger inside her, and she’s wet. I grin in victory.

She tries to wiggle, but my tight hold on her keeps her back firmly against the wall.

“I think my troublemaker likes this,” I whisper in her ear again before I push my finger deeper.

“So, tell me, who you were talking to?” I insert a second finger, and she gasps, her core tightening around me. She’s fucking perfect. As I watch her gaze transform from hate to pleasure, I almost don’t want her to tell me who told her. I want to make her come right here and now on my fingers.

I use my thumb to rub her clit as I continue to fuck her with my fingers. I want nothing more than to bend her over and take what is mine, but I’ll wait for the right moment for that. For now, she will learn who her master is.

“Give me a name, and I’ll stop,” I whisper, moving my fingers harder and faster inside her while my thumb circles her clit. She’s shuddering, her gaze glazed over.

“No,” she whispers as her eyes flutter closed.

I love that she won’t give in; I love what I’m doing to her.

She groans, and her core tightens. I work harder on her clit, knowing she’s close to coming, and when moisture fills my palm, dripping down from my fingers, I know I have gotten what I wanted.

She comes hard on my hand, and when her body stops shaking, I extract my fingers and lick each one slowly. Her mouth is open as she watches me. “I can keep coming back and doing this until you tell me.”

A spark of something flashes in her eye. Maybe she wants me to come back every night.

Tears still stain her face, and she wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand.

Looking at her and into her eyes is a declaration that I am indeed a monster, and she has no intention of telling me.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Amira

I DIDN’T WANT Diarmuid to go. I would have liked to spend more time with him. But I’m trying to show him my range—how I can play whatever part he needs—a role that changes between lover and now caretaker of his family's troublesome relatives. Babysitting Wolf will show Diarmuid that I can be a good wife.

Wolf is still asleep as I sit on the side of the bed and examine his face. I can't help but notice the unmistakable family resemblance—the sharpness of his jawbone and the distinctive shape of his brow. They are the same features that Diarmuid and his brothers have. All are extremely handsome.

The light catches the hair on Wolf's cheeks and head, revealing a surprising red tint. A ginger, I muse.

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