Page 74 of Royal Bargain

I kiss her hard—biting, claiming—and trail my mouth down her neck, nipping until she gasps, until I find the place just below her collarbone and bite. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a mark. A bruise. A claim.

She moans, arching into me, and I can’t stop.

I suck and bite my way down her body, painting her skin with proof of me. Her thighs, her hips, her breasts—no one will look at her without knowing.

“You’re mine,” I rasp, biting the inside of her thigh before flipping her again, hands gripping her hips so tight she’ll feel it tomorrow. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” she gasps. “I’ve always been yours.”

I groan, low and wrecked, and slide into her again, slower this time—but rougher. Deeper. My hand curls around her throat—not squeezing, just holding—while my other hand marks her ass with a sharp smack, the sound echoing in the room.

Every thrust is a vow. Every bruise a warning.

No one touches her.

No one takes her.

Not without going through me.

I’ll burn the whole fucking world down first.

We collapse again, breathless, tangled in sweat-damp sheets and each other.

My heart’s still pounding like I just ran through fire, and my hands are shaking a little—from the adrenaline, from the intensity, from everything I just let go of.

I wrap my arms around her and pull her close, burying my face in her neck, trying to catch my breath. My voice comes out rough, almost ashamed.

“Shit, Ana… I’m sorry.”

She blinks up at me, dazed and glowing, a light sheen of sweat on her flushed skin. “Sorry for what?”

“For that,” I murmur. “For getting so—fuck, I don’t know. Rough. Possessive. That wasn’t exactly gentle, sweetheart.”

I brush my fingers along her wrist, where I held her down. I kissed her everywhere I could, left marks that won’t fade for days. I’d meant to love her—but I’d claimed her.

But she just gives me that soft, breathy laugh—the one that always melts straight into my bones—and reaches up to touch my cheek.

“Liam.” Her voice is warm. Steady. Sure. “I loved it.”

I blink, thrown off. “You did?”

She leans in, lips brushing mine. “Seeing that side of you? That wild, unhinged, protective side? God, it was sexy. It did things to me.”

I search her face, trying to find any flicker of uncertainty, any doubt. But there’s none. Just fire and affection and this quiet, grounding honesty that wrecks me more than anything else ever could.

“You could’ve stopped me,” I murmur.

She nods. “I know. And if I wanted to, I would’ve.” Her hand slides over my chest, resting right above my heart. “But I didn’t. I wanted everything you gave me. Every kiss, every mark, every rough edge. I wanted to feel it. You.”

I exhale hard, dragging her closer like I still can’t believe she’s real. That she wants me like this—sharp edges and all.

“I just—fuck, Ana. There’s so much I can’t control right now. Everything’s spinning and the Russians are closing in and I’m afraid I’m going to lose you or Lily or all of it, and I?—”

She cuts me off with a kiss, soft this time. Sweet.

“You won’t lose me,” she whispers against my lips. “I’m still right here. I’m yours, Liam.”

And just like that, the world stops spinning.