A tic thumps in his jaw as his eyes lower to my heaving cleavage. I worry that we will not make it back to my quarters, and I back up, less confident than I was a moment ago.
He wouldn’t dare to punish me here, would he? Or worse, rut me in this shadowy corner?
My outrage mounts as he continues to boldly stare at my breasts. Yet my body sits in perfect misalignment to my mind and responds to his natural dominance.
He steps into me, eliciting my small hiss, backing me up until I’m pinned between him and the wall with nowhere to go. Eyes locked on mine, he palms my right breast, squeezing it roughly, before tugging my bodice down and exposing me to his lustful gaze.
I gasp. His hand, roughened from sword and labor, cups my soft flesh. My nipple grows taut as he teases it. Pleasure courses through my body from the stiff peak he toys with all the way to my womb.
“Maybe I should rut you here, like a common lass,” he says, eyes hooded as he draws the other side of my bodice down, exposing both sides to his clever hands.
Caught within his spell, my hands make small fists at my side lest I do something shameful, like reach for the buckle of his belt. His scent saturates the air. I want him to rut me here and now, and my slick gathers in anticipation.
I’m no longer a lady to Hawthorn. I’m a willful young lass who needs constant discipline and correction, one that he owns and uses for his pleasure.
“I was only going to see Posey,” I say. There is a note of querulousness in my tone as I try to ignore what he does. I’m tired of being stuck inside and frustrated that they are always busy. “Oh!”
Growling low, he pinches my nipples cruelly, sending a shot of neediness straight to my core. “You will not go to the fucking stable to see your horse unless Caden, Brook, or I are with you! Do I need to break the crop on your naughty bottom before you do as you’re told?”
“Yes,” I say, full of defiance.
Fisting my hair, he presses me to the rough floor. “Lasses full of backtalk need something to fill their naughty mouths.” He says this like it’s supposed to be a threat, but truth be told, I think I come a little bit. The stone is hard under my knees, but I barely notice as I’m so focused on the thick bulge in the front of his leather pants. The clack as he undoes his belt’s buckle is jarring, but not as jarring as the thud of approaching footsteps.
He doesn’t stop. Hawthorn’s body is blocking me from view, but he’s a huge, distinctive Alpha. Anyone passing will surely recognize him . . . and know what lass he has put to her knees.
Goddess help me, this is a shameful situation, but my mouth still waters as he frees his thick, ruddy cock. My eyes widen, and a thud kicks off between my thighs. I don’t think I will ever regard it without a frisson of fear.
“Open up, Priya,” he says. My mouth opens to complain that he goes too far using my name lest those passing have any doubts about who is taking pleasure from whom in this shadowy nook. Fist tightening on my hair, he thrusts deep into the back of my throat. “Good girl, use your tongue like we have taught you.” We both groan as I lather his fat head and thick length with my tongue as he pushes in and out, surging forward and filling me as deeply as he can over and over. “Greedy lass,” he says affectionately. “You were Goddess sent to suck cock.”
As the footsteps fade away, he uses me roughly. My hair becomes a leash to pull me off and on for his savage pleasure. My body hums, and slick trickles down my thighs. I’m on my knees, taking him in my mouth like a commoner as he growls encouragement to his prize.
“I’m going to come. Do your best to swallow it all down,” he says.
And he does, his cock so deep, my throat aches. He fills my belly with his seed while I swallow and choke, and it leaks and trickles from the corners of my lips. My throat is stretched to the point of pain, but he tastes absolutely delicious, and he has to pull me off.
Breath panting, I don’t move as he tucks himself away. My whole body is trembling, and my pussy feels swollen and slick with need. His scent covers my face, filling my lungs with every inhale. I feel very small as I kneel before him. “I need to come,” I say quietly.
He chuckles as he helps me to my feet, adjusting my bodice to once more cover my heaving breasts. Brushing wild hair from my hot cheeks, he runs his thumb along my bruised lips. “You will not come until your bottom has felt the sting of the crop, and both Caden and Brook have also taken your pretty mouth . . . maybe more than once.”
I whimper. This is the worst punishment. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I wasn’t thinking . . . I was just so bored.”
His big hand lowers, collaring the delicate column of my throat and his eyes darken to black. “I will kill any man who tries to touch you, Priya,” he says, voice stern. “I will not be able to help myself. Your scent is potent, like an invitation to fuck. They would not be able to help themselves, and I would kill a man.” He shakes me a little, fingers tightening and reminding me how serious this is.
Shame fills me. I do not want a man to die. The Alphas under Hawthorn’s command are loyal men, most of whom I have known since I was a child. I do not want a man to die by Hawthorn’s hand any more
