Oh. Rosa’s beleaguered brain twitched back to Salvi comforting Tristan, Tristan pushing him away — until John growled again, looming huge and menacing over her. “And my wish for a hale, hearty woman comes only from my lifelong wish to have a son. And my wish not tomurdermy son’s own mother with his birth!”
Oh. John — John was finally admitting this, now. Alifelong longing. And as Rosa blinked at him, digesting that, his hand snapped up to grip at her chin, giving it a little shake, while a hard, mocking laugh scraped from his throat.
“Ach, and you truly ken, littlepet,” he said, taunting, “that you could not bear what else I might wish to do to you? You have already taken me full into your little throat, and your little womb. You have already given me leave to bind you, and pierce you with myclaw. You could not next bear a little punishment when you displease me? You could not wear a pretty littlekragaon your little neck? You could not suck me before my kin, and flaunt to them your deep little throat? You could not” — he stepped closer, his eyes scornful, wicked — “welcome me into the one place within you I have not yet taken? The place where I yet smellthat manupon you?”
Oh,fuck. John had not just said all that, he hadnot, and Rosa’s belly could not be heating this way, her breath coming in even shorter, more desperate little gulps. A little punishment. A pretty littlekraga. Suck me before my kin. Welcome me into the one place, where I yet smell that man…
Rosa’s heart was thundering, her gaze affixed to his face, to that bitter, sneering anger in his glittering eyes. He was challenging her, goading her, maybe still mocking her. He was a hard orc, a cold orc, selfish, cruel, he’d lied to her about that damned bond, and now about his seemingly civilized and intellectual Ka-esh brothers also having a secret den ofdebauchery. About him apparently wanting to punish her, and mark her, and flaunt her, and…
Rosa’s mouth had gone bone-dry, her throat swallowing, and curse the utter asshole, hesaw, heknew. He was stepping closer, the heated sweet scent of him unfurling through the air, and the hunger on his face was so strong, so vicious, so breathtakingly compelling…
“Do not play-act with me, little pet,” he purred. “You wish for naught more, this night, than for me to carry you to my bed, punish you as you deserve, and then fuck your pretty, red little rump. Ach?”
Rosa’s answering gasp was loud, frayed, shocking even to her own ears, and in return the smug asshole only laughed, the merriment flaring brief but true in his eyes. “Ach, my little pet is just as depraved as her orc,” he hissed, with cool satisfaction. “You only do not like to admit such things, ach? You wish for me to be the one to command you, and frighten you, and thus it is not your truth to bear?”
And damn him, because Rosa couldn’t muster a single word to deny it, astute bastard that he was. And when he tilted her face further up, his claws dancing against her throat, it was like he was playing her, beguiling her, leading her astray from all the things she was supposed to be focusing on. She wasn’t here to learn his language, or help him in his library, or fulfill his depraved, audacious demands. She was here to search for atrocities. She was supposed to help start a war. She was aspy…
And yet, Rosa swallowed. Took a breath. Held those dangerous, glittering eyes with a reckless, compulsive, desperate driving hunger…
“Very well, my lord,” she whispered. “Please, command me.”
23
Rosa’s words were a betrayal. Another betrayal, in an increasingly long line of them, wrung out one after another by this damned deviousdegenerateorc.
But she didn’t take it back. Didn’t look away. And John wasn’t looking away either, his gaze dark and intent, his body huge and aggressive, his black tongue darting out to lick, slow, at his lips…
But then his head twisted sideways, his eyes squeezing shut, and Rosa could see the tension snapping into his shoulders, his face. Blocking her away, saying that he might not truly do any of that, after all, and Rosa’s disappointment flared with irrational, inexplicable force.
“What,” she gasped, breathless, even as her hand slipped toward him, caressed up his hard front against his tunic. “Why not, my lord.”
John’s mouth grimaced, his chest filling and emptying, heavy against her hand. “I am,” he said, between breaths, “anorc. I can yet” — he drew in more air — “taste yourfear, at this.”
His eyes had flicked toward the nearby pleasure-den, from which was currently emanating a variety of telltale slapping sounds, as well as a harsh, strangled cry. And while Rosa’s shock was still there, somewhere, pinging around inside her skull, stronger still was the rising driving hunger. John wanted topunishher, he wanted to take her and…
And it was madness, it was sheer foolhardy self-immolation, but rather than pleading, arguing, or even attempting to sway him, Rosa — somehow — stuck out hertongueat him. And then, for good measure, jabbed him in the chest with her finger.
“Becauseyou, you horrid reprobate,” she snapped, her voice not quite even, “once again, didn’twarnme. You didn’t think to mention, by the way, silly pet, we Ka-esh like itveryrough, and you might see some things around here” — she jabbed him again — “that could make your hair curl. But noooo, you only show me medics and scholars andlibraries, because as usual, you’re a calculating manipulativeass, who wants toseemperfectly tame and rational and enlightened, when you’renot!”
And oh, there was the anger, kindling faint but sure in those blinking eyes, chasing away something that might have almost been relief. “Next to you, foolish pet,” he said, his voice chilly, “I am bothrationalandenlightened. My choice not to speak of such things to you is only shown wise, when you squall and flail and swat at me thus, like a sulky, ill-raised orcling.”
Squall and flail? Like a sulkyorcling?! Rosa’s brief, overpowering urge to laugh was flattened by a genuine outrage, and she again jabbed at his chest. “I donot,” she said, “squall. Orflail. Orswat.”
But here, making Rosa’s heart stutter, was the grin. Spreading sharp-toothed, mischievous,ruthlessacross his delicious curling lips. “Youdo, foolish pet,” he replied, “and youshall.”
With that, he lurched forward, so fast Rosa scarcely saw him move — and then she was being forcibly grasped, manhandled, and tossed over John’s broadshoulder. Her head hanging down his back, her legs belatedly kicking against his front, against the hard, powerful clamp of his arm against her thighs.
“Flailing,” he said, impossibly cool, as he strode down the corridor with the lamp still in hand, entirely ignoring Rosa’s kicks and shrieks of protest. “Squalling. Swatting. You are too easy, pet.”
“I am not,” Rosa shot back, her voice oddly nasal due to being hung upside-down, “easy!”
John laughed out loud at that, deep and rich, and in retaliation she tried swatting for his arse, which was damnably close to her face — but that only sparked him to yank her closer, grasping at her own arse over her too-short tunic.
“Foolish pet,” he said, as that hand purposefully palmed at her, and then — oh gods — began sliding her tunic upwards. “Do you wish me to begin your punishment now? While any of my kin who pass shall see?”
“No!” Rosa wailed, as she kept flailing at him, redoubling her efforts to escape. “No, please, my lord!”
She felt rather than heard him laugh this time, his shoulders shaking beneath her, the warmth tangling with the indignation and the humiliation and the damned frenzied craving. And when John strode into another room — his room,finally— Rosa’s relief thudded all through her, tingling in her hands and feet. Even asJohn dragged her into his bed, and then — she yelped — shoved her downwards, onto her hands and knees on the soft furs, while he knelt close and strong and menacing behind her.
