****SOME STRONG LANGUAGE AND EROTIC SITUATIONS FOLLOW******
1. Referring to Brother TaulerDid all fanatics have that insane expression when they talked about things like this? Her hand curled into a fist as her palm itched to slap him.
2. Leo, referring to her security detail“No, you don’t need another bodyguard. You need a babysitter.” She took too many risks, exposed herself to danger.
Yeah, that went over REALLY well.
3. She stared at him, challenged him. He wasn’t the first man who thought he was going to gain the upper hand. They all broke in the end. Because all men wanted one thing. Pussy. They wanted to fuck, and they gave up everything to get it.
4. His fingers tightened on her wrists, his mouth close to hers. “I know all about you. Don’t mistake me for one of those tame Nyral dominants you manipulate in the sex clubs, Princess. They play nice.” His gaze was cold and intense. “I don’t
5. The Brotherhood wouldn’t have to kill her. Leo was going to kill the princess himself.
6. “Really? I think it’s hilarious that I’m depending on a man who let his mate be killed by a Brotherhood assassin. Kind of ironic, isn’t it?” The way he winced, the way the pain jerked across his face should have made her feel triumph. Instead she felt horrible.
7. She struggled, using her feet to try and free herself from his punishing grip. She’d asked for it; she’d take whatever he dished out. But she wasn’t going to be afraid.
8. With only a kiss, he’d stripped her of control over her mind and her body. “Take the damn cuffs off. I got it. No taunting.”
9. She gazed at his back and trembled, her fingers pressed against her lips. The man was more of a threat than any fucking assassin. She wasn’t sure which one would kill her first.
10. Her red hair had fallen from the severe hairstyle she usually wore. Her face was filled with color, and the muscles of her neck were corded. Stunning. He grinned. “Power is a transitory thing. But the give-and-take can be very…arousing.”
11. “What did you do to my arm? It feels like a—” She stopped when her eyes focused on her right forearm.
This would have been a good time to remove his cock from her pussy.
Yep. He marked her. The bad boy.
12. This was too weird, too awkward. There should be some kind of manual for this. Polite Rejoinders For When a Nyral Dominant Accidentally Makes You His Mate or Etiquette for the Woman Who’s Been Mate-Marked as a Cosmic Joke. It would be a fucking best seller.
13. He’d said she would call him “Master.” In every way that mattered, she had.