Page 9 of To Tame An Angel

“I’m not going back!” I gripped the rocks, trying to find a way of descending.

“You’ll die splattered on the ground below.” Her face was deceptively calm.

I met her glare. “Splattered on the ground,” I grunted as I tried to grasp the edge. “Or dead hung in your chambers. What’s the difference?”

To my surprise, her eyes softened. She stepped closer and kneeled. I looked up at her as she held out her hand.

“I wouldn’t do that, even as angry as I am right now.”

My grip slacked as I stared up at her. She held my gaze and lowered her hand more. There was such calmness to her actions that I fed from it.

“You’re hurt,” she said, and there was a note of concern to her.

I couldn’t comprehend it and all it did was infuriate me. “What does it matter?”

His lips were set in a thin line. “It matters to me. Now, take my hand. You’ll slip.”

It mattered to no one. I mattered to no one. I’d spent thirty years of my life mattering little other than the girth of my cock and what mistress would it make happy. She told lies to make me comply, to make me believe she actually cared.

I shook my head, recoiling back. “No -” and my feet lost their balance. My fingers slacked in strength, and I slipped down.

She screamed, but I was too busy grappling the rocks, desperate to save myself. Then I was free-falling into the earth. Death seconds away.

But a cool chain flew through the air and encircled my forearm. The chain yanked roughly at my skin, and I yelled as I dangled in mid-air.

CHAPTER FIVE

NALLA

He was buckling wildly and pulling the chains by the time I dragged him back home. His violent struggle made him lose his pants, and he was naked and bloody. Despite my tight grip, more than once, the rope slipped from my fist.

He smiled, his blue eyes dancing in triumph. “I can do this all night.”

Anger coursed through me. It was ravenous, unquenched, mingled with an inexplicable desire for this beast of a man. The sensation had me calling on my magic, making my fingers glow.

He noticed, and his eyes narrowed. My insides filled with that ancient female power within. It slithered to my hands, and I yanked his chain with all my might. He yelled and flopped on the bed; his legs strained against the power of the magic. He couldn’t move. Quickly, I latched the chain to the wall and pressed the hook closed.

Breath was spurting out of me shakily because the magic was exhausting. This man had fallen bent over my bed and his naked ass was on full display. Ire and vengeance seethed from him as he wriggled.

Despite my exhaustion, my mouth parched at the sight of him. He was glorious.

“You fucking bitch!” Between chained hands, his penetrating blue eyes glared. “I hope you’re zapped of juice! I hope you collapse—”

He kept going as I pushed off the wall, weary and lethargic from the wrangle. Leaving me no choice, I went to my chest and yanked it open. Grasping the muzzle within, I turned back to him. His glare zoomed on it; his lips pulled back in a snarl.

“Unless your mouth is in my cunt, I don’t want it open,” I said, walking to him.

“Put your cunt on my face and I’ll show you pain,” he threatened.

Unphased, I straddled his back. He tried to buck me off, but I grasped back his head, exposing his throat. His eyes looked at me sideways, spitting venom from the irises.

Placing the muzzle over his face, I shoved the bit between his teeth. He tried to bite me, but I pushed past his chomping teeth. His breathing was harsh, and he yelled, but it came out incoherent as I snapped the muzzle behind his head. He was trembling with fury by the time I was done. On instinct, I allowed my fingers to linger over his hair. It was soft and tangled, with bits of grass still clinging to the strands. Attempting to bathe him would be wonderful if he wasn’t so difficult.

Sighing, I braced myself for the next step. He began kicking up a fury when I took the leg shackles from the trunk. Calmly, I grabbed his foot, but he yanked back. The soles of his feet were blackened and bruised with dirt and cuts.

The task of caring for him was nearly overwhelming. To tame him meant he was in my charge. If he got hurt, I was the one to cure him. Especially if he was hurt because of me. This was all taught to us. The fleeting moments of kindness mother showed to her men. She’d sat by them after one of their sessions and spoken quietly, soothing them and ensuring them she was pleased.

Those were the moments I hungered for. But he didn’t understand, as if he was afraid of what it would mean to allow himself fully into my care. Or perhaps he simply didn’t believe anyone could care for him.

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