Page 18 of His Darkest Desire

He didn’t slow as he approached the doors, which swung open before he was even close enough to touch them. “I am holding you to the terms to which you agreed.”

“I-Isn’t there some rule about contracts being made under duress not being valid?” she asked, panic creeping into her voice despite her attempts at remaining calm.

How the hell can you expect yourself to be calm, Kinsley? You’re being carried off by some unknown creature that wants you to have his baby!

He ascended the stairs, his every step making his shoulder dig into her diaphragm and forcing a grunt out of her. “Should your oath be so devoid of meaning, I will return you to your carriage. The bough that ran you through may easily be replaced.”

Had he just threatened to impale her?

Apparently he intends to, one way or another.

They entered the foyer, and he swiftly followed the steps up into the round central room. Pressing her lips together, Kinsley grasped a handful of his hair and yanked.

“Damn you!” he snarled as his head was wrenched to the side, throwing him off balance. Kinsley nearly struck the wall before he recovered his footing.

Straightening, he lifted his hand from her ass, only to bring it down again with a sharp slap.

Kinsley’s breath hitched as the sting radiated through her, but what shocked her more than the pain was the surge of arousal it triggered.

What. The. Fuck?

“Did you… Did you just spank me?” she asked, aghast.

“Mind yourself, human, for this is the most lenient punishment you will receive.”

“Mind myself? Let me go, asshole!” She renewed her struggles, pushing, wriggling, and kicking, doing everything she could to escape. But he only held her more firmly, his claws pressing into her skin.

She heard the bedroom door open and slam against the wall, and she saw it shut on its own after he carried her through. He didn’t stop until they’d reached the bathroom. The air was warm and humid, perfumed with spice and a floral hint, a welcome change from the coolness of the forest and fog.

Without warning, he hefted Kinsley off his shoulder and dropped her—nightgown and all—into the tub’s steaming water.

She slipped, head going under. Thrashing, sputtering, and coughing, Kinsley sat up, splashing water over the sides. She swiftly wiped her wet hair out of her eyes, blinking them open.

Firm fingers caught her chin and turned her head, forcing her gaze to meet his. He towered over her. In this lighting, he didn’t look any less imposing, nor did he look any less beautiful. A glint on his ears drew her attention to the intricate silver cuffs at their helixes.

“Wash yourself,” he commanded, his gaze dipping, “or I shall do so for you.”

Kinsley jerked her chin out of his grasp and scooted away from him. Water sloshed over the tub walls. His eyes lowered further, and a fire sparked in their crimson depths.

She glanced down and hurriedly crossed her arms over her breasts, which were completely exposed in the clinging, now transparent nightgown. She flushed.

“Where are my clothes?” Kinsley asked.

“I have disposed of those blood-soaked rags.”

“Well, is there anything I can wear that’s not see-through?”

“Be grateful I have provided garments of any sort. Our accord does not obligate me to clothe you.”

Kinsley glared at him. “Oh, you mean the accord that was pressed on me while I was dying? You know, you could have just saved me out of the goodness of your shriveled heart.”

He leaned close enough that his nose nearly touched hers, his inhuman countenance filling her vision. Long strands of his hair fell into the water. She shied away from him.

He halted her retreat by grasping her jaw.

“I have had a great many years to deepen my well of patience, Kinsley. Yet you are fast draining it. Wash yourself. I will await you in the bedchamber.”

Kinsley whipped her head to the side, yanking her face out of his grasp. “Screw—”

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