Page 49 of Urban Gladiator

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, Rowan. I belong to you.”

“That’s right. This ass is mine,” he roared. He thundered inside me with thrusts so violent I wondered if I’d be split in two. But I didn’t care because it felt so good. So right. I didn’t know how I had ever lived without it.

One hand cupped my pussy while the other gripped my neck. “And this cunt is mine. Your body is mine. And in another life, I would claim you in truth. No matter what, you will always remember this with me. You will know that your body will never respond to another the way it does for me. That you will never feel fully satisfied with anyone but me.”

I didn’t understand. “Why? Why won’t you claim me?”

“Because I can’t. But fuck, I want to with everything I am.”

“Do it, Rowan. Claim me.”

“FUCK!” he bellowed, plowing into me at hypersonic speeds with a force that had me wailing at the stunning ecstasy.

I came hard.

So fucking hard I screamed at the top of my lungs. If my powers were working, I was sure the elements themselves would have responded to the cataclysmic orgasm ripping my body in half.

His grunts and groans increased. And then he howled while he thrust, spilling his seed inside my grasping ass.

He collapsed on top of me, his breaths heaving in and out. With a single claw, he cut the rope around my wrists. Then he withdrew and rolled onto his back beside me. I shifted and stared.

“Why didn’t you claim me?”

His blue eyes flashed open. “Because I can’t. I’m the next king of Avalon. It would toss the entire kingdom into chaos. There’s no way I could mate with a witch without dire consequences. The orcs are frothing at the mouth to upend my father’s rule.”

“Maybe they should.”

“How can you say that? Do you really want orcs in charge?”

“Well, no, not those bastards.” He grinned at my comment, but I continued. “But have you ever considered just how lopsided and rather archaic the power structure in Avalon is to begin with? Why should there only be a king from one species who governs us all?”

“It’s tradition.”

“Screw tradition.” He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off before he could begin. “No, hear me out. Why not have a council where things are voted on and decided? And from that council, have one member serve as king or queen if that’s the title you want to go with. But then it changes every decade. That way, fresh perspectives are ushered in, and no one species governs the rest of us.”

“You make a valid point. It’s something when I’m in charge that I would consider. I’d thought of something similar myself, but my father won’t even discuss change.”

“Rowan, if I had my way, all the witches in my coven would have fled Avalon years ago. Our kind doesn’t have to worry about humans the way we did hundreds of years ago when Avalon was first settled. Hell, the humans even have television shows where witches are the good guys.”

“That’s true for you and many of the species. But there are some that can’t blend. Can you imagine giants or orcs or hell, the fuckin goblins blending with humans? They’d be annihilated.”

I opened my mouth with a rebuttal on my tongue, but he cut me off before I could begin.

“I know witches have suffered. That I’ve been one of the loudest supporters of making witches suffer for the war.”

“A war that your kind started,” I added.

Rowan frowned. “No, we didn’t.”

My goddess, did he not know? “Yes, you did. I’ve seen it, Rowan. My powers allow me to see events around items, to see their history. And the walls in your castle don’t lie. Your father started the war.”

Rowan bolted upright, disbelief etched across every line of his face. “What? No, he couldn’t have. They attacked our encampment first.”

“Only after he burned one of our villages because a very powerful witch in our coven wouldn’t agree to be his mistress.”

Skepticism was written all over his face.

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