Bercelak banged on his older brother’s door again. Finally, Addolgar pulled the heavy oak door open.
“What?”
“I need your chains, brother.”
Addolgar stared at him for several long seconds. “Should I ask why?” he finally said.
“No.”
“The cuffs only, or the collar as well?”
“All of it.”
With a shrug, Addolgar went back into his room. He heard his brother speaking to his mate. Bercelak shook his head when he heard her snap, “Where do you think you’re going with our chains?”
“It’s for a good cause,” Addolgar said over his shoulder as he handed the chains to his kin. “It’s brought me luck, brother. Perhaps it will work the same for you.”
He f**ked me to sleep, she thought as she forced herself awake. The suns showed brightly through the narrow windows and she knew it was late in the morning.
The last thing she remembered at all was him bathing her, against her muttered protests, in fact.
Rhiannon shook her head to clear her exhausted mind, but the sounds of heavy chains froze her. She went to touch her throat, but her hands would only move so far. She turned her head and saw that metal cuffs held her wrists, the chain tightened so her arms didn’t stray too far from the headboard. She couldn’t see or touch the collar around her neck, but she felt it well enough. Heavy metal weighing down on her shoulders. Even her feet were shackled, the chains securely locked to the end board.
“Bastard!”
“Oh, good. You’re awake.”
“Release me! Now!”
He smiled and she took very little comfort from it. “I think not. I like having you at my disposal. All wet and ready to f**k when I so choose.”
She’d spit at him if he were any closer. Especially when she felt her body respond so immediately. Her ni**les peaked and wetness seeped from between her legs. He saw it, too, and his grin grew wider.
She fought the chains again. “I’ll scream for help.”
“I wouldn’t bother. Remember whose family this is. Ailean the Wicked. Somehow he managed to woo my mother who, I’ve been told, tried to kill him more than once before their Claiming. So, I seriously doubt he’ll find this such an extreme form of courtship.”
“I am a princess,” she argued, “you can’t treat me—”
“You are a princess,” he cut in. “A beautiful princess who belongs to me.”
He finally walked over to her and she stared hard at the human body before her. Gods, why did he have to be so beautiful?
“Tell me you’re mine, Rhiannon, and I’ll let you go.”
Angry and lustful all in one turn, Rhiannon turned her face away.
“Tell me, Rhiannon.” His fingers slid up her calf, teasing the skin with just the tips of his fingers. “Tell me”—fingers slid between her thighs, soft kisses followed—“or I’ll be forced to get it out of you . . . somehow.”
She shuddered and, to her shame, it wasn’t from fear or anger. But lust. Her weakness sickened her. How could she ever hope to be queen, when she couldn’t even tell this bastard “no”?
Kisses turned to licks that trailed over her sex and across her lower belly.
“Such simple words, Rhiannon. ‘I belong to you, Bercelak.’ Say them and let’s be done with all this.”
As she turned her neck, the collar bit into her flesh a bit. She closed her eyes in horror when she realized how much she liked it.
“I won’t,” she choked out, while his tongue was teasing the very tip of her nipple. “I won’t say it.”
“Fine. Then I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.” He pulled away from her and she briefly wondered what the “hard way” was? She couldn’t imagine Bercelak hurting her.
At least not without some proper begging involved. He stretched out beside her, his head in her lap. She watched through narrowed eyes as he kissed her sex, his tongue pushing in to tease her clit the tiniest bit.
She groaned, her eyes closing and her body tightening. Then he stopped, pulled back and blew on her. Gently.
Her eyes snapped open and he gave her that gorgeous smile. For someone who rarely smiled, he seemed to be doing it a lot all of a sudden. Because of her?
“Give me what I want, Rhiannon, and I’ll give you what you want.”
Refusing to speak, she shook her head. The collar, warm from her body heat, felt wonderful resting against her flesh.
“As you wish.” He leaned down and began teasing her again. Growling, she looked away, only to see his engorged c**k bobbing there, Bercelak’s hand gripping it firmly, stroking it slowly.
Unable to stop herself, she growled with wanting and Bercelak’s mouth stopped moving. He lifted his head and looked at her. They stared at each other for several long moments, then Rhiannon licked her lips.
Bercelak groaned and growled all at the same time while he easily pushed himself up until he rested on his knees. He moved toward her, his c**k leading the way. She no longer looked at him, but at it.
Straddling her chest, Bercelak slid his hand behind her neck and gently lifted her head up. She opened her mouth and he slid his c**k inside her. They both closed their eyes with a moan as Rhiannon sucked on him, loving the way his body shook as she took possession of him.
“Gods, Rhiannon,” he whispered. “Gods that feels good.”
She thought about torturing him the way he’d been torturing her, but she didn’t want to. She liked having his big c**k in her mouth. She liked having him over her. She felt no fear, no sense of dread, wondering when he’d prove what a bastard he was. So she sucked and she licked.