Page 65 of Masked Fate

Salem nods, a thoughtful look on his handsome yet terrifying face.

This is easily the weirdest night of my life.

“I thought you don’t like people touching you,” I decide topoint out, hoping to move the conversation away from his knot, which, to be honest, I’m kind of curious about. I’ve never seen a shifter’s knot, but I heard that when you have sex, it expands and holds the female locked onto him for a little while afterward.

Or something like that.

My gaze drops to his crotch, wondering if that is a pro or con about being with a shifter.

Salem follows my line of sight and smirks, readjusting himself. “I won’t tell if you don’t. And no, I don’t like anyone touching me. But you are different. And you’re not touching me… I’m touching you.”

Fates.

There’s a lot to unpack, but I’m not going there.

Clearing my throat, I hold my hand out to him. “Friends?”

He studies my hand, then suddenly grins and shakes my hand, his large one dwarfing my smaller one. Satisfied with our conversation, perhaps, he then wraps his arm around me, pulling me into his side.

And that’s how Soren finds me, and he stalks into the inn with Rave at his side.

His hands slam down on the table, and the room pulses with dominant magic. His expression hints at pure, unbridled violence. “Get your fucking hands off my mate! I’m going to kill you, Salem! I don’t give a fuck how big you are. You’re clearly stupid as fuck.” Soren’s magic seeps through his tone, the command pouring from his words.

“Master?” A blonde woman gasps, coming to stand next to him.You have to be fucking kidding me.She raises her hand to touch him, but Soren steps away, ignoring her. Instead, his eyes are locked on Salem as he’s about to charge for him.

Rave sighs, his shadows coming out to hold Soren back. Salem, on the other hand, pulls me closer than any sane, intelligent male in this situation would. His brothers pull himout of his chair and zip right out of there before a full-blown war takes place, all because Salem is certifiably insane.

Rave lets go of Soren, who lifts me from my chair and throws me over his shoulder, his hand landing on my ass with a harsh slap.

He zips with me right into his bedroom, where he throws me down on the mattress and braces himself over me. “Please, tell me, little witch, exactly why the fuck Salem had his hands around my fucking woman?”

His voice is rough, harsh, and rings with jealousy.

“He came to apologize,” I say, looking him in the eyes. I lift my hand to touch his jaw, and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. “And he’s fucking insane, so I didn’t want to start any drama. He hugged me, and that’s when you walked in.”

His hand moves to collar my throat. “No other male gets to touch you.” Firm, full lips trail down the side of my neck. “But you know that, don’t you?”

“Soren—”

“Look at me,” he commands, and I didn’t even realize my eyes were closed. “I’m going to show you exactly what happens to bad girls.”

Oh fuck.

I’m so turned on right now, but at the same time, I also want to have the last word. “I’m not one of your little pets, Soren.”

Gray eyes flicker with anger, and for a moment, I wonder why the hell I’m pushing him right now. He strips off my clothes until I’m naked and then walks over to his cupboard, unlocking it with a key he takes from his drawer. He has an evil grin on his face that I don’t fucking like, and when he pulls out a leather paddle, I scowl at him. “Soren, what are you—”

He sits on the bed and pulls me over his lap, my bare ass right in front of him. He strokes the smooth skin there, murmuring something about perfection before he brings the paddle down onmy ass.

“Ouch!” I snap, squirming to get away from him.

He holds me in place, placing another two strikes. He palms my ass and the backs of my thighs, soothing the heated tingles before sliding a finger inside my pussy. “You are wet, little witch. You like this, don’t you? Of course you do. That’s why you are fucking perfect for me.”

Another five strokes of the paddle, and then he groans, letting it fall to the floor.

He lays us both back on the bed and orders, “Now, sit on my face.”

This doesn’t sound like a punishment to me.

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