Page 31 of Legacy

The blood in my veins heated, pushing at the rabid animal inside to take this woman and make her mine.

Her focus shifted to my mouth before she closed her eyes and muttered, “Fuck, I so hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” I groaned right as I slammed my mouth to hers.

Nine

Elias

She moaned, not protest or resistance, but pure need and desire. This woman wouldn’t shy away from demanding what she wanted.

It incited a craving in me to make her beg, scream, admit she was mine.

I grazed my teeth over her lower lip, just hard enough to sting and eliciting a filthy, wanton gasp as she arched against me.

“You aremywhore now,” I whispered with a guttural rawness I couldn’t hide. “Do you hear me?”

She swallowed without losing that scowl. Her face saidshe hated me, despised me, but the gritty lust in her seductive green eyes told me otherwise. I felt her throat strain with the motion of her muscles there.

Physically, my strength outmatched hers tenfold, something that would never change.

And then there were the rules of our world. The men ran things, and adjusting that mindset would take decades, if not more, no matter how defiant and opinionated she was.

“You have such soft, unmarred, flawless skin.” My scarred, tatted, calloused hand flexed on her delicate neck painted a heady contrast to the flesh under my fingers.

“Do you plan to mark it? Brand me as yours?” She arched her throat.

The desire to harm her wouldn’t ever enter my mind.

She was mine. To protect. To fuck. To literally do with as I pleased, but hurting her wasn’t something to ever consider.

Why she challenged me, knowing I’d killed so many, beaten and tortured many more, was an enigma to explore.

My capacity for violence and malice scared so many. Yet, Avra’s green eyes blazed with lust, defiance, and not a single drop of fear.

Fucking woman captivated me. She trusted me, knowing my father had killed her mother.

Well, at least with her body, she did.

I squeezed tighter as I smashed my mouth to hers. Avra’s hot, wet lips parted, welcoming my brutal, commanding kiss. The second I speared my tongue into her mouth, she met me with her own demands.

The taste of her intoxicated me as if she were a witch. Shegrowled and turned slightly, ending the kiss with a nip on the lipharder than necessary and meant to cause pain.

I hissed, tightening my fingers.

Her lips curved, and her pupils dilated, watching me lick the blood from my lips.

“I’m not yourwhore,” she stated. “I’m no one’s whore.”

“What are you?” I asked with a gravelly laugh as I rubbed my bleeding mouth to hers.

She’d drawn it, she’d taste it.

She sucked my lip into her mouth, surprising me by licking over the cut, and then said, “I’m yourwife.”

Fuck, I liked the sound of that.

My wife.

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