Page 90 of To Ensnare a Duke

"That I can, my minx. That I can. Shall I restrain you? Or can you be a good little omega for me and take the pain I bestow upon you?"

"For you, I can be as good as you make me."

I grin down at her, my heart soaring for the first time since she trapped me. Never in my wildest dreams did I think my life would turn out like this. The women I played with in The Rose and Thorne merely tolerated my depraved desires because of the coin it gave them.

Augusta wants me, craves me even. Sliding my hand down to cup her cheek, my cock pulses as she burrows into my touch. Through the bond, there's nothing but trust and hunger. It's humbling to feel her true desires for me.

Bringing the lancet up, I show her my tool before sliding it over her skin, keeping my cuts shallow. Her gasp as the fire burns through the system flutters against me, making me painfully aroused. With painstaking precision, I decorate my inspiration, sending rivulets of blood over her pale skin and onto the sheets underneath.

"Such a good little muse," I murmur, praising her as I deliver such elegant pain. "You're taking it so well for me. How beautiful you look with my marks marring your skin. Every day I'll look at them and worship them. Once they heal, I will do it all over again."

Keeping my cuts where only I can see them, I alternate between swirls and lines, scratching the skin in some places but going deeper in others. With each swipe of my blade, her arousal becomes more intense. Grabbing my knife, I bring the blade lower, teasing her lower lips with the dull edge.

Sexual haze fogs her mind as I reach out through the bond, making sure she can handle what I'm doing. She cannot tell one sensation from the other. To her, it's all the same. So when I drag the metal over her clit, she screams out, terror and pleasure coalescing into one overwhelming mass of need.

"Fear not, minx. Your clit remains intact. I will never harm such a delightful little pearl."

Ginger, spice, and copper pepper the air, muddling my brain until savage need pours through me. Bypassing her pussy, I pick up the lancet and continue to drag the blade down, teasing her, tormenting her, and turning her into a writhing bundle of need. Blood coats her skin like lubricant, drawing a feral madness into my being.

It's not a rut, but damn near close. I need to have her, to possess her. Tossing the lancet and other blades to the side, I strip bare for her, taking my time as I ease out of my breeches. Her hunger is palpable on the air, fueling my own until I cannot tell where hers ends and mine begins. It's as it should have been from the beginning.

With rough movements, I spread her legs open. I slide across her, coating my body with her blood. Bending low, I lap at her nipple, groaning as I taste her life force on my tongue. Her desperate moans flood my brain even as her pleasure hums through the bond.

With a wicked grin, I bite into the sensitive flesh, causing her to jerk against me and clutch my shoulders. “That’s it, my little pain slut,” I growl against her tender skin. “Let me feel you. All of you.”

I switch to her other nipple and suck it deep into my mouth and release it with an audible pop, earning a mewling cry from Augusta’s lips. I have to have her. I can no longer hold back.

My cock jerks as I notch the tip in her entrance. There will be no slow deflowering for my little omega. She craves the pain my body gives her.

Her sharp cry echoes through the room as I impale her with one long stroke. Through the bond, I sense her hesitation as her body accommodates my girth. Sinking down onto my elbows, I purr as I glide in and out, my movements eased by her slick.

With each thrust, she relaxes around me, allowing me to fuck her even harder. Rising again, I stare down at the juncture of her thighs where my cock pistons in and out. Pale pink and stripes of red coat the shaft, sending a roar of satisfaction vibrating through my body.

Augusta clenches around me, moaning as the pleasure sweeps her up. My thrusts are savage and raw, hard and demanding. Just the way she likes it. Just the way she craves me. On instinct, she turns her head to the side, offering me neck and shoulder.

As much as my brain tells me to stop, my primal instincts tell me to claim her, mark her, make her mine in every sense of the word. Reaching between us, I stroke her clit, making sure she has more than enough pleasure to make up for the agony I'm about to impart.

Blood and slick coat my fingertips, making my movements slippery. Her clit is swollen with need as I play with it, rubbing it back and forth in time with my relentless strokes. Frantic moans spill from her lips as she bucks up under me, desperation lining every inch of her body.

I won't deny her. Not now. Not when every pore screams for release. "That's it, love," I growl. "Come for me. Break beneath me. Show me who owns this body."

She shatters around me as her orgasm ripples over her. Through the bond, I feel her release as a pale version of my own. It drives me forward, making me all the more eager to spill my seed inside her willing body.

Grabbing her hair, I wrench her neck to the side and hold it in place. It's not a need to dominate and conquer that has me so rough. I do not wish to harm her any more than I have to during this process. In truth, as agonizing as it will be for her, it's so much better this way.

Without a rut clouding my mind and judgment, I can stay more attuned to her and what she needs. I'll also be able to tend to her better after we're done. Again, I stroke her clit, distracting her with my touch and purr as I lap at her neck.

My cock swells inside the warm heat of her pussy as my knot expands. I don't stop. I can't stop. Each thrust becomes erratic as I force myself past the tight ring of her entrance. Once I'm fully seated, I sink my teeth into her delicate skin.

It gives way as her screams ring about my ears. I don't stop purring. I don't stop touching her. My knot locks deep inside, spilling my hot cum into her body. Again, her body explodes into a flurry of movement as her release races through us, tempering the pain.

The thin threads wind even tighter around us, locking us together as a maelstrom of emotions sweep through. Threads turn into the cables. Cables turn into anchors. Though I never wanted to be free from her before, I certainly can't now.

We're a part of each other, deeply enmeshed, never to be separated until death parts us. As it should be.

Easing my teeth from her, I gaze down into her eyes. She looks up at me, adoringly. For the first time, she seems replete, satiated. No more will I deny her my touch or my love. It seems she thrives on it.

"I'm quite a mess," she murmurs, lifting her bloodstained hands.