Sound of Madness A Dark Royal Romance - Maria Luis Page 0,75

that bleeds beneath my skin but fuck it, there’s no time like the present.

“Five.”

Without thought, I begin shrugging out of the robe.

“Four,” he husks.

The silk slips to my elbows to reveal my cotton tank top. Bending my arms, I try to rip at the fabric and tear it free, but the binds around my wrists curtail all further effort. Gritting my teeth, I smother a frustrated groan.

And then I beg, just as he wanted: “Help me.”

Damien doesn’t need further encouragement. But any expectation of him loosening the knot goes up in flames when he plucks the thin strap of my tank top between two fingers, his knuckles grazing my skin, and pulls.

The fabric tears in half, down the middle, leaving me in nothing but silk and bandages.

I’m naked.

Completely and utterly naked.

My mouth goes dry. “You just . . . you just—”

“Three,” comes the tick of the clock, even as his hands find my hips and squeeze. And while I can’t see him, I know that he’s studying the pink blisters that dart across my collarbone like a constellation of devastation. Stars formed by fire rather than an accumulation of gas and dust.

Broken. Defeated. And still standing.

Always.

Lifting my gaze, wishing I could meet his, I reach out.

“Two.”

My fingers find the waistband of his trousers and then the metal tab. Pulse racing, I pop the button free and slide my thumb down the length of his zipper—and his cock—in a blatant tease that has him swaying closer.

I smile, slowly.

Harness the darkness.

He should have specified if we had boundaries.

With hands still bound by silk, I drop to my knees and kneel before him. My hands go to his right thigh for balance and my tongue to the tab of his trousers. Then, with my teeth biting the metal, I tug it down.

“Fuck. Fuck, Rowena.”

Hands find the back of my head, careful of my scars, and I don’t need my vision to know that I’ve rattled the unpredictable Mad Priest. He grunts beneath his breath and holds me to him with such possession that even if I wanted to stand up and walk away, there’d be no chance in doing so.

I glance upward. “Tell me what you want.”

At his own words thrown back at him, he swallows audibly and chokes back a curse.

Swaying forward, I part the fabric of his trousers and recall the sensation of him rocking against me. I lick my lips, dragging my teeth over the fullness of my bottom one, just to make him sweat. He does, releasing a hoarse groan that sounds like music to my ears.

“Give me the words, Damien,” I say on a low murmur, my lips nearly kissing his sheathed cock, “beg for me.”

He hisses from between gritted teeth. “You’re a goddamn she-wolf.”

Whatever I might have said next is lost as he clamps his hands under my armpits and hauls me from the stone floor. The silk robe flutters when he lowers me to the altar, his finger coming to my shoulder, away from my wounds, to push me down until the marble is cool against my back.

I hear denim scraping over skin and then feel his hands on my wrists.

Shock registers a moment before I ask, “You’re untying me?”

“I want you free.”

I bite down on my lip, hiding a smile. “And so the hero reemerges.”

“No,” he replies on a short, rough laugh, “no, he doesn’t.”

And then he loops the sash behind my neck, like he’s making the beginnings of a proper tie, before fisting both ends of the silk in one hand above my head. He pulls on the sash, and I rise, spine arching. He releases, and I sink to the altar.

A sacrifice.

His sacrifice.

My heart thuds against my ribcage and I strain my neck, testing the new silk restraint at my nape, and then there’s nothing but him—Damien.

His hand on my right leg, bending it so that my foot hits the edge of the altar. His fingers dipping between my legs to sink deep into my pussy. One finger, then two. He curls his fingers, and a tremble shatters through me. Then I feel the silk go taut, lifting me upward, so that I’m forced to plant my hands down on either side of my hips.

“Last chance to run,” comes his dark rasp, his fingers leaving me empty and aching when he pulls them free.

“Even if I do, you’ll chase me.”

“To the ends of the earth,” he vows.

Darkness clamps down on my lungs, squeezing, and then he’s there, the length of him brazen against