Page 24 of Star Crossed Delta

MAK

M ak was incandescent with rage. His body shook from head to toe, struggling to control his ire.

The fokk?

She’d let Zolan into his home and tainted his trust even further.

Enough was enough.

He decided to punish her.

He tracked her, his gaze locking on her wide-eyed bewilderment.

Without warning, he encircled her waist.

She gasped in surprise, and he waited for her to put up a fight.

There was none.

All he got were her dilated eyes staring at him.

‘You’re coming with me now,’ he growled.

She went limp in his arms, surrendering.

He lifted her into his grasp, hands under her knees and around her back.

Striding in power-driven anger out of the drawing room and up the grand curved staircase of the mansion towards his primary.

‘Where are we going?’ she whispered.

‘You played a wild game, ?arim , and now you get your savage prize,’ he snarled.

His grip firmed as he moved her through the opulent upper halls of the lodge.

The soft glow of chandeliers flickered on the ornate walls, casting intricate shadows that seemed to dance in the air.

She tensed, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps as they reached the threshold of his chambers, yet she remained silent in his arms.

Still, her eyes burned with a mixture of defiance and a hint of curiosity or even a trace of lust, which further enraged him.

He pushed the heavy door open and carried her inside.

A breeze blew through the doors that overlooked the courtyard.

The air was tinged with the smoky essence from his fireplace, along with the scent of the spiced candles that he liked to burn.

The room was bathed in shadows and flickering with crystal candlelight.

One wall was a deep navy with an intricate gold pattern. On the far partition, his hearth crackled, casting a warm light on his comfortable, worn, and favorite leather armchair.

His massive, ornate bed, which dominated the center of the room, was carved from shimmering black onyx and lustrous ivory.

Setting her down on it, he circled her like a predator, each step deliberate and calculated.

She raised herself on one elbow, eyes on him with wariness, her chest rising and falling in anxiety as she took in the luxurious surroundings.

Finally, her gaze skittered to him, dilating at the fury on his face.

‘What the hell do you plan to do to me?’ she whispered, her gaze locked on his bared incisors.

‘I am about to teach you a very valuable lesson,’ he gritted.

He reached for the platinum tray on the nearby table, lifting the lid to reveal an array of meticulously arranged gleaming sythyric rapiers, ribbons, and tools.

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t back away.

‘Do you know what this is?’ he asked, his gaze locked with hers as he selected a long, slim silver rope from the display.

In his other hand, he grasped a pair of slender, bejeweled scimitars, the blades glinting in the firelight as he lifted the items to her.

Her jaw clenched, but she held her ground.

‘A choice,’ she replied, defiance lacing her words.

He smirked at her perceptiveness. ‘Smart. You’ve two options,’ he murmured, his breath mingling with hers. ‘Pleasure or pain.’

Her eyes blazed, challenging me even as her body language betrayed a hint of vulnerability. She squared her shoulders, refusing to cower in the face of uncertainty.

‘Pain,’ she declared, her voice steady despite the flicker of apprehension in her eyes. ‘I choose pain.’

He raised an eyebrow in surprise, not expecting her to meet his challenge head-on.

‘Take your shit off,’ he growled, crossing his hands over his chest.

She blinked.

‘I said, take it off.’

Rising from the bed with caution, she took an inhale, and she did as commanded.

He eyed her as her nightgown slipped to her feet.

When she was about to ease off her bra, he called out.

‘Wait.’

Stepping forward, he slung a diamond-encrusted rope around his neck and joined both scimitars in his left hand.

With the gold-hilted blade in his right hand, he reached, slid it between her skin and her lace straps, and then, with a smirk, turned the knife’s edge.

One strap tumbled, the sharpness of the stiletto slicing like butter.

She gasped, and he ignored her.

He moved to the other fastening and did the same.

Then, to the bridge midway between the cups, without touching her.

The fabric fell away into scraps on the floor.

Saba took a long, shaky breath as he withdrew to feast on the vision he’d revealed.

Her tits, heavy, rounded, tipped with hardening rose nipples, made Mak bite down on his inner lip with need.

In seconds, her underwear, some lacy number, glided off next under his sharp-edged scimitar.

He almost groaned when her hands went to her curved waist, and she thrust her bust at him in defiance.

Her body was exquisite, just as he’d imagined it all this time.

Her hips were contoured, her thighs glowing like ivory in the dim light.

She stood in front of me, bared and vulnerable yet unflinching, a hint of resistance still lingering in her gaze.

He noted the pulse hammering at her throat, the rise and fall of her chest betraying the tumultuous emotions raging within her, and smirked.

Without hesitation, he pushed her onto the velvet duvet and began to bind her wrists with the silver rope.

He secured them before raising them above her head and attaching them to a hook in the ceiling.

She tensed at the sudden restraint, but her stare never wavered from his.

Taking his time, he circled the bed, his fingers trailing over her skin.

Her breath hitched at his touch. She pressed her lips together as if holding back a moan and refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her undone.

He leaned in closer, his mouth brushing against her ear as he whispered, ‘Are you certain about your choice, wife?’

She shivered at the intimate contact, but her voice was steady when she replied, ‘I’m sure.’

A flicker of something primal and possessive flashed in his eyes as he allowed his gaze to linger on her exposed, glowing, and dusky skin.

Savoring the sight before he grasped the bejeweled scimitar and approached her.

He sank one knee on the bed beside her.

Her breath hitched as the blade gleamed with an otherworldly light.

He lowered it, pressing it to her bosom.

‘Mak,’ she whispered, terror on her face.

He twisted his lips. ‘Wait for it.’

She went still, heart thumping against her torso as he pushed down the rounded tip.

The stiletto was a pleasure tool and had never been sharpened for the kill.

She sighed in relief as it only slid over her.

Still, it gleamed with menace as he lifted it from her chest and traced the cool metal along her curves, eliciting a shiver that ran through her body.

She remained still, her breath quickening as he pressed the weapon into her skin, poised on a delicate edge between rapture and pain.

With a steady hand, he began to etch intricate patterns into her dermis, the blade’s energy leaving a luminescent trail in its wake.

Each stroke brought forth a gasp or a moan from her lips, a symphony of sensations that echoed through the soft-lit room.

As he worked, he experienced an unusual sense of intimacy bloom, a connection forged in the crucible of desire and defiance.

Her eyes never left his, a silent challenge that fueled his yearning to push her to the brink.

Her hips began to undulate, her hand straining at the cords around her wrists.

He unwound a second length of the silver diaphanous rope from his neck.

Using its trailing diamond tassels, he traced it along her exposed flesh, parallel with the light, shallow grooves the blade had made; a shiver ran through her body as if anticipation and apprehension were coursing through her veins.

With each touch, every caress of the cold diamonds against her heated skin, he saw the battle raging within her, a desire for control warring with unbridled lust.

‘The thing is, Saba, this pain is pleasurable. Can you handle that?’

She lifted her chin. ‘I can. I’m not as weak and spineless as you believe.’

He studied her for a long moment. ‘You need to know I will never force this penitence on you. I’ll let you go if you tell me you want to leave. I’m not keeping you here at will.’

‘Yet you’re testing me,’ she murmured, her eyes never leaving his.

‘Like you were testing me with your attempt at freedom,’ he retorted, baring his diamond-tipped canines. ‘With your flirtation with Zolan.’

‘So, this is a battle of wills, ?ar ,’ she ground out.

‘You’re a smart woman, Saba, one who understands me. That is rare.’

‘And you’re a man who talks too much. Get on with it.’

He raised a brow. ‘She’s hungry for it now.’

Her breath hitched as his words sank in, a mixture of fear and arousal swirling in her eyes.

He sensed the internal struggle within her, the conflicting emotions warring for dominance as she lay bound before him.

She arched her spine; her tits arced towards him in a silent invitation for more.

Her silence spoke volumes, a plea for me to push her to her limits.

With a predatory gleam in his eyes, he murmured in her ear, ‘I can reveal to you a realm where every touch is a symphony of sensations. Are you ready to explore that world with me?’

Her response was immediate and unyielding. ‘ Naam ,’ she breathed, her voice just above a whisper.

He leaned in close, whispering, ‘Let me show you a universe where pain and pleasure become one.’

His lips fell on her earlobe, then lower to her nape.

He extended his incisors and bit.

She screamed, part in ecstasy, also in agony.

The reaction was instant and visceral. Her ragged intake of air echoed in his ears, followed by a shudder that rippled through her body like a tidal wave.

She arched her back with a long moan as the connection ignited.

The energy transfer began, a pulse of heat that traveled from his teeth into her veins, spreading through her like wildfire.

He felt it course through her. An electric rush made her convulse as if every nerve had been awakened.

Her skin flushed, her pupils dilated, and her breath quickened, shallow and uneven.