Page 112 of White Raven

“So, kanin . . . should I bow to you, now that you are my queen?” he snarled, his grip tightening, letting me feel every inch of him through the drape.

My mind hazed the more I breathed in. “Yes.”

“Don’t speak.” His voice was tainted with anger and violence. “Do not forget . . . even if you are technically married to him. I own you.” Even through the curtain, his fingers scraped over the gems decorated along my neck, the little stones falling to the ground. His palm trailed the painted-over tattoo, reading his mark like braille. “This is my mark on your skin. Mine.”

“That makes me only another prisoner,” I whispered.

“But I think you like this cage.” His fingers moved down my sternum, sliding over the top of my left breast, where my heart hammered against my ribs. “I’ve seen you fight. Seen when you killed. You love the danger, crave it like I do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Really?” The tips of his fingers prodded at the top of my dress, slipping an inch under the fabric, his glove grazing over my nipple. “I can feel your heart pounding. Your body is trembling.”

“Because I’m scared,” I defended. “You are holding me against my will.”

“Then scream.” He loosened his hold. “Get away from me. Don’t play the damsel with me, kanin. I fucking know you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I fucking feel you everywhere.” He yanked off his glove, reaching through a divide in the curtain, his bare hand reclaiming my neck. His skin burned into my tattoo, scorching through my body, forcing a gasp up my throat. He jerked with a hiss, and I could feel his arousal against my gown. “I want to slit your neck and bleed you out of my system. Watch your blood coat my skin, knowing I can be relieved of you,” he snarled. “I despise everything about you.”

“Same.”

He pressed down so hard on my neck, he cut off oxygen, darkening my vision. Instinct surged fear back through me, sparking down my spine. A throb between my legs pulsed like a heartbeat, the thrill spurring a wildness in me. My hand reached back, rubbing him through the drape.

“Fuck.” He hissed, slackening his hold, allowing air to slip back into my lungs. My head spun, making me lose all sense of reality, not caring who was around, or how morally wrong this was.

“Onyx . . .”

“You want me on my knees, my queen?” He spat out the last two words sardonically, his deep voice shivering my bones.

“Yes,” I moaned.

“Order me.”

I swallowed, my voice catching in a whisper. “I order you to get on your knees and worship your queen.”

A guttural noise came up his throat. “Watch him on the dais,” he ordered me.

Obediently my gaze went to the stage, where the king slumped drunkenly in the throne. He stroked Aina’s breasts as she sat on his lap, while he sucked on the fingers of one of his male flock as he served him food. Sölvi stood to the side, topping up his wine glass. I was not missed, nor desired to be by his side.

“Watch your husband play with and fondle his flock. Keep your eyes on him as you feel my mouth claiming what is mine.”

The heat of his body disappeared. My mouth opened to protest, when I felt the curtain behind me move. The back of my gown was lifted up along with the drape, his hands sliding up my legs, gripping my hips.

From the outside it appeared I was standing quietly by myself against the velvet curtain in the darkness, his figure behind, hidden from view by the drape and my gown.

Desire clouded any sense of judgment when the feel of his lips brushed the inside of my thigh. My mouth parted, his hot breath tickling my skin. His fingers slid up my legs, gripping my undergarments and slowly dragging them down.

He tipped me slightly forward, his lips grazing me like he was smelling me, taking in my scent. Gripping my hip harder with one hand, he held me in place, while the other parted my legs, slipping two fingers slowly closer to my core.

A croaking noise came up my throat and my eyes fluttered closed for a moment, overwhelmed. Need itched at my nerves, desiring more as he rubbed me again. His teeth grazed my ass, biting down hard, causing a yelp to wrench from me. His tongue soothed over the bite mark, right as he drove his fingers inside me. I couldn’t fight the moan laced with the stab of pain, the way my body shook at the intensity.

“Onyx.” I whimpered, his fingers moving in and out slowly, my hands clutching onto the soft fabric.

“Don’t take your eyes off your husband,” he ordered against my skin.

My lids opened, blurrily peering across the room. Through the throng of dancers, lurid acts were taking place in dark corners, while others gorged on the drink and wine, losing themselves to the sin of the shadows, sensual music casting over the room. My hazy attention locked on the king. Aina was kissing his neck as he trailed his hand up and down the male thrall’s abs. Morrigan now sat at the king’s feet, her head lying back in his lap while he continued to drink wine as if this was all normal.