Page 64 of Caged By the Lich

"I need to be able to leave the house, though. I can't spend every second there forever. But I will always come home and you are welcome to come with me." I give him a stern look.

He nods. "Deal." He nips my bottom lip. "I want you as my mate."

I freeze, staring at him. A lot of demons don't even mate, but I've never heard of one taking a human as a mate, especially not in the circles Olvaar and my father are part of. "What?"

"I want you as my mate. I want you in my home, in my bed, and chained to my fucking soul. It's already yours, Astrid, and I want everyone to know it." His fingers stroke along my spine. "Besides, it'll give you more protection, and I need to know you are safe."

"But you can only ever mate once-"

He lifts a hand to my face, his thumb sweeping over my cheek. "And I want you to be my own only. My little rebel forever."

The carriage jerks to a stop in front of the house, but Olvaar doesn't move. He just stares at me expectantly.

"You're sure?" I ask despite the way my heart is soaring.

"I have never been more sure of anything in my life." He leans his head forward, our foreheads pressed together. "But no isn't really an option, either."

I laugh, shaking my head. "Forever my captor."

"I'll be whatever you want." A smirk pulls at his lips. "But I really want to be your mate."

My eyes start to water at that, and I nod. "Okay."

"Okay?" A full smile takes over his face.

"Yes," I breathe, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Yes, I'll be your mate."

Olvaar's lips claim mine in a fierce, demanding kiss. I match his intensity, my fingers tangling in his hair as he somehow manages to climb out of the carriage without breaking our connection.

His arms are strong and secure around me, making me feel both protected and possessed. His mouth moves to my neck, teeth grazing my sensitive skin, drawing a gasp from deep within me.

"You're mine, Astrid," he growls, carrying me through the grand entrance of our home. His voice is a dark promise, sending shivers down my spine.

"All yours," I murmur, my lips exploring the line of his jaw when he has to lift his head, the rough stubble contrasting with the smoothness of his skin.

He strides through the halls, his pace quick and determined. "I'm having all your stuff brought down here tomorrow," he says, his voice a low rumble.

"In a week," I counter, nipping at his earlobe. "I want you to myself for that long."

A chuckle vibrates through his chest, the sound rich and tantalizing. "Fine. One week."

We reach his chambers, and he kicks the door open, carrying me inside before setting me down on my feet. His eyes, swirling with purple and gold, fix on me with an intensity that makes my heart race.

"Strip for me," he commands, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "You thought you could leave, little rebel. Now you'll face the consequences."

His words send a thrill through me, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through my veins. My body responds instantly, heat pooling in my core as I begin to undress. I hold his gaze, refusing to look away as I slowly slide my dress off, revealing my naked skin to his hungry eyes.

"On the bed," he orders, his voice thick with desire.

I comply, lying back on the soft sheets, my breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. All it takes is that tone of his voice, that threat of punishment, and I can already feel myself building toward an orgasm.

Olvaar's gaze locks onto mine as he strips, his pale blue skin revealed inch by inch. My breath hitches, heart pounding as I drink in the sight of him. His body is a work of art, lean muscleand ethereal beauty, and I can feel the heat pooling between my legs as he stands naked before me.

He climbs onto the bed, knees settling on either side of my ribs. His cock is hard, jutting out proudly, and I can't help but lick my lips in anticipation. He sees the movement, a smirk playing on his lips as he grips himself, stroking slowly.

"No more fight in you, little rebel?" he coos, his eyes swirling with gold.

I glare up at him, even as I part my lips, sticking my tongue out in invitation. "Fuck you," I spit, but there's no real heat behind it.

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