Page 37 of A King So Savage

Dragging a chair before her, Kingston sank into it and reached for the shaving cream. Ava’s legs shook with finely wrought quivers as he slowly spread the cream over her pussy. His fingers speared through the tidy curls with thorough attention.

A gasp escaped her throat, her eyes flying to meet his as he moved closer between her legs. She was spread wide for him, the length of the chains affording little movement. Her hands curled into fists, and every now and then, she convulsively jerked at the restraints as if she could free herself.

“Did you know a shave with a straight razor is the closest you can get? I’d prefer having you waxed, but I doubt you’d lay still for that. It’s somewhat painful the first time, or so I hear. Besides, I’m terribly possessive. I don’t want anyone else to see you in such an intimate manner. Only I have that privilege.”

He spoke in a low, conversational tone while opening the straight razor from its folded position. The handle was honed from ebony wood, and a gleaming blade crafted of inlaid Damascus steel gave the instrument a perfectly balanced weight.

He showed it to Ava, her face reflecting in the silver metal, then with a careful glide of his hand, whisked it through the cream. It barely skimmed the plump flesh, but the shiny blade was so incredibly sharp that it cut the soft curls down to bare skin with just a flick of his wrist.

While he worked, Ava held her breath, remaining as still as could be expected under the circumstances. Kingston exercised extreme care, wiping her with a hot washcloth as he went about the task.

Finally, he leaned back with a satisfied grin, passing his fingers over the newly shaven flesh. He couldn’t resist the urge. She was so damned soft. So smooth and silky.

“There. All done, lamb. You were such a good, brave girl for me. So good and so brave, I believe you deserve a reward.”

“You’ll let me go?” Her question was laced with disbelieving hope. A tremble of something else rippled beneath the surface of her words as he continued stroking her flesh.

“No,” he murmured. “But answer me honestly, Ava. Do you really want to be set free?”

“You cannot keep me forever.”

“Can’t I?”

Wiping away the last of the cream from her skin, he cleaned the blade on the cloth and then snapped it shut. He leaned back and stared up at Ava. With her cheeks flushed pink, eyes hazy with dawning need, she did not look away.

Kingston’s gaze traveled her body. He saw soft, pink nipples budded into tight rosettes, the flat planes of her stomach quivering with anticipation. Evidence of her arousal glistened between her thighs. Heady and intoxicating, her scent filled the room, sinking into his bones.

Honeysuckle and dampness and want.

He inhaled deeply, and she mimicked him without conscious thought.

Fuck, she’s as turned on by this as I am.

His fingers tightened on the straight blade and Ava’s breath hitched.

“I’ll ask again. Do you want to be free, little lamb?”

He saw very plainly the internal war waging in Ava’s head. And the moment her resistance fluttered away in defeated tatters, reeking of confusion.

She shook her head slowly, licking her lips while staring hungrily at his mouth.

“I want you to say the words, Ava. Tell me what you want.”

She hesitated, then sank into the manacles, gorgeous in her surrender, her eyes so dark green they were nearly black. Her breath came in soft pants for air as he turned the blade over in his hands. When her gaze drifted over the tattooed words scripted along his flank, the air between them shifted. Sizzled. Hummed with the energy of a lightning storm.

Crush. Conquer. Protect.

She had no idea how fiercely he lived by that motto.

He crushed his enemies. Conquered and took what they once held dear. Protected what he gained. It would be the same with Ava. If he allowed her to get close.

But that was something he could never allow, so he must content himself with little tastes of her and nothing more.

Unfortunately for them both, her words had a way of ensnaring him. Her capitulation to his desires and her own would be their mutual downfall. Kingston recognized this. He must resist her even as he took her.

“Here in this cell, I am yours.” Ava’s eyes glittered with the hard, uncompromising beauty of malachite. “Yours.”

ChapterEleven

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