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“Do you still want to do this?” he asked.
“Didn’t you tell me you owned me when you locked this collar around my neck?”
“Yes.”
“I’m yours, Mister Leduc.”
Fuck. The sight of her gazing up at him in that complete and utter submission, and yet with that spark of a dare lurking behind her eyes. She was daring him to dominate her, challenging him to do what he wanted and stop feeling guilty about it. Bound to his altar, covered in come and sweat, her eyeliner smeared, she was the most sensual thing he’d ever seen. The woman was a fucking drug. He was ready to fuck the hell out of her again.
Without direction from Rodrigo, Severin shaved her already smooth thigh and disinfected the area. The urge to do this quickly, before she realized this was a mistake – that he was a mistake – clawed at him.
He took the brand he’d made off the mantle and set it to heat over the fire. They waited, talking quietly about nothing, as though this was any other visit. Severin watched surreptitiously as Minnow shifted, becoming increasingly anxious until the palm-sized brand was glowing hot. He and Rodrigo put on surgical masks and Rodrigo put on gloves.
“Ready?”
They turned back to the girl, and she whimpered in a series of desperate, ragged sounds that made Severin’s cock painfully stiff.
“Maybe I should have worn earplugs so I wouldn’t get distracted.” Rodrigo laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard before in my life.”
“Me neither, but you’ve done this before.”
“It’s different when it’s someone you’ve fucked. It must be even worse when you own her and it’s your mark.” He turned a hungry gaze on Minnow, and Severin found himself doing the same. She looked from one of them to the other, then away as though she couldn’t bear the weight of their desire. That or she thought they were disgusting perverts.
She looked more excited and afraid by what was about to happen rather than disgusted by their excitement.
“Hold her down,” Severin commanded, going to pull the brand from where it was suspended over the fire. The wooden handle was warm, but not hot to the touch.
“Shh,” Rodrigo crooned to Minnow. “This will only hurt a little.”
“Really?” she asked, gasping for air.
“Well, some people flinch a little, and some scream their heads off.”
“If I scream, will you make fun of me?” she asked. “I’m so scared I might scream.”
“You do what you need to do. We would never mock you for screaming,” Severin managed to make himself say, approaching her with the angry orange brand glowing brightly in his grip.
Rodrigo pinned her down with one hand on her hip and one on her knee, immobilizing her even m
ore thoroughly than the rope. He was panting, and the bulge in his jeans had to be as uncomfortable as Severin’s own.
Minnow’s terrified mewling was fucking with his head, making his breaths come hard and fast behind the mask. At least it wasn’t just him. Rodrigo’s mask was moving erratically over his own staccato breathing.
The girl’s gaze locked on his, terrified. Hell, he loved scaring her. Loved hurting her.
“Your safeword is ‘tattoo,’ Miss Korsgaard.”
“I know.” She quieted under his gaze, going still, her eyes wide and clear. “I love you, Severin.”
Euphoria flared through him, lightning through parts of him he’d thought long dead.
“You’re mine, Minnow.” With shaking hands he positioned the brand over her thigh, then pressed it firmly against her skin. Her body bowed in his bonds, back arching and mouth stretching wide.
Her bloodcurdling scream pierced the silence of the house. Fear and pain echoed through the room, ricocheting through his head. His cock bucked then spilled into his jeans, but it was inconsequential compared to pulling the branding iron away to see his symbol raised and red, marking her as his forever. He wanted to kiss her there – to lick it even if she burned his tongue. He wanted to brand her again – somewhere obvious where every man who wanted her could see it. Her arm. Her hand. Maybe that’s what a ring was. A polite brand of ownership.
Rodrigo took the branding iron out of his hand, but he barely noticed in his haste to untie her. The girl – his girl – was panting, trembling, probably with the same burst of adrenaline he’d felt. His body felt like it would explode in a million directions, unable to cope with the magnitude of his emotions.
“That hurt less than I thought,” she mused. “I was just so scared.”
