“Bloody Christ, your flesh is a feast and your soul’s a firestorm,” he says, his hot breath against my lips, his beard brushing them. “Such a wild, little thing. Ye walk like you’ve got the Old Gods on your side… and a devil between your thighs.”
Desire surges right through my core, and I can feel wetness slicking my pubic lips. I never imagined he could talk like that.
“Fuck, Lass,” he curses, then opens his mouth along my throat, kindling electric currents in me. “I should fear a woman like you. But all I can think about is pinning you down and feeling you fight me for it. Then, I’d get on my knees between those thighs and let you wreck me.”
I hiss when he licks at my nipple, my back arching, my hands trembling as I inch them toward his soft, red waves. “Ye’re all curves and heat and fury.” He sucks my breast, stoking the liquid fire in me. “Like the land herself come alive to swallow me whole. I’ll fucking bleed for ye, burn for ye. Go to war for ye.” He chuckles darkly, looking up and touching my lips as I narrow my eyes. “Then, let ye kill me with that siren glare.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” I demand, but he rips a moan right from my throat when he dives between my thighsand sucks my clit between his bearded lips. I choke on my own breath as he buries his face in me, dipping his tongue to rim my hole.
“Devil take me!” he groans and licks me. “Not sunshine to me. Like thorns and heat and whiskey, Lass.” His words vibrate into me, and my inner muscles start to clench. The pressure’s ready to snap at any moment, to explode?—
—until he pulls away.
I gasp at the sudden onslaught of cool air and glare at him as he licks his lips and looks down on me, eyes gleaming. I rise onto my elbows, opening my mouth to protest. Then, he wags a finger. “Nah, sweet Lass. Discipline first, remember?”
“W-what are you going to do?” My chest heaves with my nervous breath.
He sizes me up, his greedy eyes roaming, stroking my skin with invisible fingers. I tense as he moves to the end table on this side of the bed, reaches into the drawer, and pulls out…
“Not a chance in fucking hell,” I say and move back, but Rory’s upon me a second later, locking one cuff around my wrist and the other to the metal bed frame. I start thrashing and kicking, tugging at the cuffs, but it’s no use.
He hums a low tune while opening the cabinet below the drawer. With a wink, he pulls out a couple more items. A spreader bar. Oh, shit. A locking collar. And a leather riding crop.
All my struggling is pointless when Rory collars me, snapping it to the bed frame.
“Bastard!” I yell and slam my legs closed, but he chuckles and yanks them apart, spreading me wide. He locks the bar in place. A few chains later, and I’m immobilized.
My breath hitches when he takes the crop and slides his fingers across the length. “Don’t worry, Lass. Light discipline. Light touch.” He winks.
He rubs the tip of the crop along my labia. “Oh!” I strain with the cuffs.
“So wet for me.” He raises the tip. “Look at all this delicious cream. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Such a dirty Lass.”
The crop comes down, licking at my folds. He was right. It was light. Like a teasing brush of a burn. Like a kiss of flame. It only grows the wetness inside me.
“Hmm…” Rory drags the crop through my lips again, gently sinking it into them to rim my hole. “Jude has the tongue. Vincent has the tats. I have the toys.”
I swallow hard beneath the collar and try to focus on the ceiling. He swings the crop, bringing it down again and again, lashing my sensitive pubic lips, rubbing me between the little bites. More fluids trickle from my center, and my face burns with shame. One targeted strike hits my clit, and I flare my nostrils, clenching my inner muscles. So close.
“Now, now, Firecracker. Won’t have ye coming before I say.”
“Asshole,” I spit.
The crop comes down, this time…right on my left nipple. I hiss through my teeth. He swings again, slapping the other nipple. They grow hard like two bits of pink stone. He slaps the swell of one breast and then the opposite, knocking them gently against one another. Then, he traces the crop tip along each nipple, smearing my wetness over them.
When he pauses, I take my eyes off the ceiling, only to find darkness coming down as he ties a blindfold around my head. Locks of his hair wisp across my brow. I snap my teeth at him, but Rory dodges with a deep chuckle.
“Now, now, Lass. Let big Red take care of you.”
Did he just…?
Strong hands shove my knees to my chest, and I gasp when Rory locks chains to the spreader bar, binding my ankles to my wrists.
“What a sight you are,” he practically coos while rubbing my exposed ass. I suck wind through my teeth as he brushes his fingers along the still-sensitive brand. “Want to know what it looks like, Firecracker? The mark of us?”
“Five assholes sitting in a circle singing Kum Ba Yah?”
He snickers, then blows warm breath along the brand. “Chains. Five chains coiling in an unbreakable circle. But this space here…” He rubs a single finger in the center, then licks a circle in the space. “This will be for your mark.”
