Page 50 of Kept to Kill
He grinned deviously as an idea came to him and he went across the room to the small writing desk and took one of the quills from the inkwell. He returned to her, not missing the trepidation on her face. He liked that she was scared, that she didn’t know what he was going to do. He gathered that she liked that too. And there was another side to that coin anyway. He never knew how she was going to react either, and he enjoyed that as well.
First, he took the quill and wrote his name in ink on the underside of her breast, drawing back and taking a moment to appreciate how she looked with his name on her. He imagined her getting it marked on her permanently with black ink. Perhaps he would have her name put on him as well. Yes, he liked that idea. Then Quin and Bastian would know that she belonged to him first every time they fucked her without him.
What was he thinking? Permanence? Would they all return to the camp together after their mission in Kitore, with Lily in tow as their Fourth, following them into battle, journeying with them on long campaigns, being thoroughly pleasured by them every night? He shuddered at the thought, but not in revulsion. Perhaps, somehow, there could be a future for them, but he couldn’t imagine Lily being happy with that particular arrangement. She wouldn’t enjoy the life of a Brother, he didn’t think, but then it hardly mattered. Surely life with them was better than no life at all.
Lily craned her neck to see what he’d written on her. He pushed her down with a tut and ran the feather lightly over her chest and down her side. She shivered deliciously as he did the same to the other side before tickling her neck with it, grinning as she giggled. Last night, her fit of laughter had unnerved him. He’d never made a woman laugh before, never made anyone laugh before, now he thought on it.
Except for Quin, he was a solitary creature, and he and Quin certainly didn’t have the sort of friendship where they’d joke together. That was more Bastian than him.
He used the feather for a little while longer, making her squirm and beg for mercy. Then he put it down and took up the other item he’d placed there. Her eyes widened as she took in the knife he held as it glinted in the morning light that shone through the cracks in the closed casement shutters.
‘I don’t think I—’ she began, a tremor in her voice, though Mal could see she was also aroused simply by the sight of it.
‘Will stop if you ask.’ He put a finger to her lips. ‘Won’t hurt you,’ he murmured. ‘Not unless you want.’
If it was possible, she looked even more anxious, but she didn’t tell him to stop, thank the gods.
He pushed the blade to her throat for a moment, just enough for her breathing to quicken, before grazing it down to her breast, not hard enough to break the skin, just leaving a little red line in its wake. She gasped as he circled her nipple where the bite mark was.
‘I killed them,’ he said offhandedly. At her inquiring look, he went on, ‘After the Rat, I slaughtered many.’
‘Why?’ she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
‘Angry,’ he said after a moment, moving to the other nipple and digging the blade in sharply.
She cried out, more in pleasure than pain, her back arching so suddenly that he had to snatch the knife away so as not to cut her.
‘Angry with them?’ she somehow found the presence of mind to say breathily, though he could see she was already almost lost to the sensations he was giving her.
‘With myself.’ If he’d known then what the Rat had done to her, he might well have killed many more, but he didn’t tell her that.
He drew the knife down her belly, watching as she tried in vain to keep still, chuckling as her hips surged up to his hand. He shook his head and pushed her down, giving her mound a little slap with the flat of the blade. She whimpered, biting her lip and silently begging him for more.
He flipped the knife into the air and caught it by the opposite end, dragging the metal hilt down her slit, listening to her husky moan as he did so. Then, with a wink, he coated the handle in salve.
* * *
Lily’s breathingwas quick and shallow, that much he heard as he opened the door. Then he saw her, arms over her head, bound by a belt, naked with Mal leaning over her. She whimpered as he murmured something Bastian couldn’t hear.
‘What are you doing to her?’ Bastian growled, slamming the door and practically leaping across the room to Lily’s side. He pulled Mal away from her. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’
‘Nothing she doesn’t want.’ Mal smirked.
Bastian turned back to Lily, trussed up on the bed. She was curled up on her side now, trying to hide herself from him, her cheeks crimson.
He cupped her face, making her look at him. She met his eyes, and though she was clearly embarrassed, she didn’t look afraid or hurt. His eyes tracked a thin red welt that went from her neck down to her breast. Without thinking, he traced it with his finger and she shuddered. Bastian looked back at Mal, who was watching him touching Lily, his eyes beginning to smolder.
‘She enjoys what I do.’
Bastian looked down at Lily once more. He could see Mal was right. Whatever he’d been doing, Lily loved it. He pinched her nipple gently, rolling it between his fingers as she closed her eyes and let out a mewl.
‘Please,’ she begged and Mal immediately sat on the bed next to her, taking the dagger he usually carried at his belt and drawing the sharp point down the inside of her thigh. Bastian watched her shudder and she sobbed, her body needing more.
‘If it’s too much, tell me,’ he ordered and she gave a frenzied nod.
Mal took the sharp end in his hand and plunged the hilt between her legs. She let out a loud cry as he pounded it into her mercilessly, her hips rising to meet the thrusts of the object he was using on her. It didn’t take long for her to climax, her arms pulling at the bonds around her wrists as the rest of her body tightened in pleasure. Her breathing stuttered and she screamed Mal’s name, arching clean off the bed as he pushed the handle of the knife deep into her.
Afterwards, she went limp, her eyes lidded as she locked eyes with Mal and watched him let the knife fall to the coverlet as he eyed her core.
