Page 169 of Untamed

---

Mactiir

“This is good, Treasure?”we croon to our pretty Treasure.

She smiles, golden hair floating in a halo around her head. She is our merciful angel. She is going to Mark us. We are giddy. She is pupped and all ours.

Purring, our Treasure approaches us. We lean back, exposing our neck to her. Vulnerable to only her.

Sharp little teeth she has. Growling, she sinks her teeth in, trying to find purchase. When we cup her waist and pull her into our rolling hips, she smacks our shoulder, grumbling her protest against our skin.

We chuckle, feeling the venom seep into the wound she is making.“Treasure,”we moan. Sweet Treasure. Pretty Golden Treasure. Ours.

And we are hers, now. Completely. Our Treasure’s very own tamed monster.

---