Page 321 of Kingdoms of Night

“This is Lena, your charge for the foreseeable future. She doesn’t go anywhere without at least one, preferably both of you present, even if I’m here. Your eyes will remain on her, and by your troth, you’ll see that she stays safe. She’s not allowedanythingat all without asking for permission. Understood?”

The female knight nods sharply, but the man grimaces. “I’m your second, Dryan. I have duties.”

“Delegate them until further notice. She is now your only duty. Are we clear, Castov?”

The resentment in the man's glare turns my blood to ice. I don’t doubt he plans on making me pay for having to watch me. Though why he blames me when his king made the decision, I’ll never know. He nods to Dryan, who smiles. “Very good.” The king’s gaze snaps to mine, and his fingers against my wrist tighten. “Now, my little pet. Let us see that you understand actions and consequences.”

He drags me toward the fireplace, and I instinctively pull my arm back, fighting his hold, in vain.

The dogs move away from the wine-stained rug as we approach, and Dryan finally lets go of my hand. “On your knees.”

Like the first time he demanded that of me, I remain standing, too scared to comply.Then what?

“You’re already on very thin ice, Lena. Don’t add disobedience to your tally.On your knees.”

I can’t help the sob rising in my chest. I look at the strangers still standing close to the entrance of the bedroom, desperate for any help.

Dryan’s laugh is humorless. “Oh, you hope my second and the captain of my guard care how I discipline my human, pet? Funny. Even if they did, they’d do nothing but watch. Get on your knees now, or I’ll make them flog your ass while I fuck the insolence out of you.”

I force myself to move, slow, my eyes never leaving the terrifying, glowering predator. I’ve barely gotten to my hands and knees on the rug when Dryan raises his hand. I wince and tense preparing for the coming impact. Except it doesn’t come where I expect it. His palm hits the back of my ass. My eyes widen in surprise. I can’t say the sensation’s entirely painful. Before I process what it makes me feel, he does it again, slapping my other cheek, then back to the first, slightly lower, on another spot.

He’s relentless. His palm falls on my sensitive skin again and again. I don’t recognize my voice when a sound escapes me. Half a whine, half a wordless plea. My core ignites like it did when Dryan’s tongue and fingers played with me. I do start to feel some pain and there’s no doubt I’ll be too bruised to sit after this, but I don’t dislike it at all.

“Please,” I hear myself say, though I don’t think I’m asking him to stop.

“You don’t get to speak. You don’t even get to beg. You tried to break my toy, Lena.Mine.”

I whimper helplessly. I don’t think I can take much more. My upper body collapses onto the rug, the fibers rough against my breast, and Dryan keeps spanking me.

My head twists at an angle, and from here, I see both Castov and Iara staring at us. They’re openly smiling, loving every minute of this. The shame of being so debased, so humiliated doesn’t prevent my body from tightening one last time before my core releases all its fire. I scream. I could pass out, spent, but in the next moment, there’s pressure at my utterly sensitive core. I glance behind me and find Dryan crouched, directing his hard, impossibly long and thick member right at my entrance.

I’ve only had time to open my mouth when he presses forward, and my throat closes, rendering me utterly mute, and still.

His entrance is slow, but with every inch, I think I might break in two. It’s too much. He’s too big. I’m not meant to be filled so completely. Pain that's more than sharp hits me, and my insides protest against the intrusion by stiffening as much as possible.

I hear him laugh.Laugh. At my pain, at my despair, at my degradation, I don’t know. “You’re strangling my cock, pet.” His voice sounds tight as he pauses his progress inside me. “Open up a little.”

I couldn’t if I tried, and I don’t. If he’s uncomfortable too, that’s his affair.

I hoped it was over—there can’t be much more of him—but after a few seconds, he’s pushing forward again. I wail, and to my relief, he withdraws himself a little. I’ve only had a second to breathe out in relief before he pushes back in, faster and harder this time. I sob. He reverses a second time, and I know better than to let myself be fooled again. The next thrust is expected. What I don’t expect, however, is to feel an intense pleasure mingled with the pain, just as his thighs hit my ass. His earlier efforts tenderized my skin so much the pressure of his skin against mine reawakens it.

“That’s it, Lena. Take all my cock, like a good pet.”

“You mount your dogs, do you?” I snarl, finding courage I didn’t know I had.

He laughs behind me, pulling all of his length out of me, before plunging back in.

My body lurches forward and the moan that comes out of me mortifies me more than anything he’s ever done. I’ve heard it before. I sound like Margaux. Ifeellike Margaux, too: entirely shameless and sinful.

Dryan’s done with any pretense of gentleness. He thrusts in and out of me with abandon, his thighs slapping mine, his balls hitting against my burning flesh. The noises I make, the fact that there are eyes on us, and the fact that I am now treated like a whore cease to be relevant to me. There’s nothing but the incessant rise toward unprecedented heights of pleasure. My hips move to meet his and I want more, more, more. Until at last, I fall.

CHAPTERELEVEN

When I wake,everything hurts, though I'm tucked in under plush covers on the heavenly feather mattress of Dryan's bed.

My bottom's on fire, my insides, raw, and there's an emptiness in my stomach, as well as bile rising up my throat. No wonder. I haven't eaten or drunk anything in days, other than the disgusting potion the hag brewed for me.

I rise on unsteady legs and still myself, bringing my hands to my mouth to prevent myself from retching.

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