Page 29 of Cut of the Dark Elf's Blade

And for a second, I am tempted to take Neveah right here and now.

Fuck her so that he can hear.

Fuck her so that he bursts into the room and watches.

Fuck her so loudly that she is pulled apart, fuck her so hard that she forgets how to pronounce Rhiucra’s name.

She shouldn’t be saying his name in the first place.

But I restrain myself. Now is not the time or place.

So, after I tighten my grip around her throat once more, I let her go. She falls backward onto her bed with a gasp.

Control yourself. Now is not the time.

I stalk away from her and slip out of her bedroom and leave her gasping from want and desire.

Rhiucra is not outside the door any longer, but I know he is close by.

I don’t particularly care about my brother right then. All I can think about is Neveah.

All I can think about is her soft, supple skin, and lithe, curvy body.

All I can think about is her hair and her eyes and the way her mouth could swallow me whole.

All mine. All mine. All mine. All the time, all the time, all the time.

I need to have her. She is never getting rid of me.

The ferocity, the intensity, of my thoughts surprises even me. And it disturbs me, too, and excites me in ways I did not think was possible.

Mine, mine, mine.

It takes all my self-control to not walk back to Neveah’s room and take her without warning. I want to claim her over and over again, taste her over and over again.

I want to smother her in my scent, I want to mark her as my own, and I don’t want any other male to think they even have a chance with her.

I want to collar her, I want to keep her on a leash, I want to burn the Ilnais insignia into her skin so that everyone out in the world knows where she belongs.

Who she belongs to.

Neveah is mine. Now and always.

14

NEVEAH

Ishould not have enjoyed that,I think to myself as I lay panting on the bed.

My body is warm with desire, and my thighs are slick with arousal.

I don’t understand myself, and I don’t understand the situation I am in. I should not like being around Luocre.

I should not like being with him, feeling his hands on my skin, around my throat.

What is wrong with me? Something has to be wrong with me, for me to like being treated like this!

Because the truth is, Luocre treats me like an object. He is like a child with a new toy that he won’t let go of.