Claiming Rosa (Book 2) Jacobs Broken Mercenaries

Chapter 10

"I've been too gentle with you, Rosa. Giving you space and respecting boundaries, but you're not normal. In fact, you enjoy pushing me. I think you like when you don't have a choice."

She gives up reasoning and takes off at a dead run. My excitement flares. I let her get a head start. When I see her look up at the sky to see the harpies hovering, I pursue her. As she risks a glance my way, my lips curl into a sadistic smile as I take flight. I watch from above as she spins in a circle, looking for me. I wait patiently for her to find me as I silently hover just a few feet above her. Rosa slowly tilts her head up as if finally sensing me. When her wet eyes meet mine, I feel no remorse; the damage is done. She stands still, smart enough to know there's nowhere to run. I drop down and hold her with my hand, lightly encasing her neck. The small delicate length engulfed by my hand. Taking my time looking her over, I spot Dayzues's cuff. My anger flares as the metal begins to melt off her, dropping to the ground before it disintegrates into the earth.

"Ouch, careful! You burnt me."

I turn my head, studying her. Without the cuff, I can't get a read on her feelings. Doesn't matter, anyway. With that thought, I grasp her and carry her unwilling body back to where she belongs.

Her anger matches mine. I have to tie her and place her in the room, locking the door. During the struggle, she busted her eyebrow open, head butting me, and cut her hand with her own nails. I lift my lips at the thought of all that passion turned on me in a different light. I give her time to calm and accept the situation.

My home is quiet, aside from the thrashing and yelling coming from Rosa. The pixies are scarce and Bertie must have retired long ago. The embers in the fireplace are already cooling. I think I know where Dayzues went, but it doesn't bother me. There's nothing he can do to change the outcome of events. He can only witness what's to play out.

It takes hours before Rosa calms. I send Bertie away at her displeasure and clear the pixies. I want her alone completely to myself and, more importantly, at my mercy. Silently I stand outside her door, boring holes with my barely contained rage as the kiss replays in my mind on repeat. I stop myself from barreling through the door to punish her. When I can't get her breathy moan she made in his arms out of my head. I go in search of drink...

The cheap whiskey does nothing to dull my rage, just dampens my senses. I sit in her chair and watch her sleep, matching each steady breath in and out, while studying her features. Her dreams disturb her a few times, causing delicate brows to dip and make her pouty lips frown. I wave a hand to start the fire when she brings the blankets to her chin. I clean the broken mirror with magic but leave her cuts she inflicted while cutting the rope from her wrists. It's a slight pain compared to what her decision cost me.

It's midafternoon when she finally wakes. She looks at me, then the empty bottles on the dresser before anger settles back in her features.

"Get out!"

The demand is sexy; the sleep laced tone another stroke to my rigid cock. I should have taken her the moment I slipped the cuff on her arm. It would have been easy to distract Austin and subdue her.

"What did you do to Dayzues?"

It's the worst thing she could ask. She has a knack for pissing me off. I slam my bottle down and get up to my feet. Dark urges play at my subconscious as the slithering, evil energy rests at my fingertips.

"What's wrong with you? You've changed, I can... sense it.

I don't dignify her question with a response. I'm still trying not to hold her down and force myself on her. the need to make her forget Dayzues ever existed is strong. The fact I can still smell him on her gets me crazed.

"Did you fuck him?"

Her eyes widen, and she gets up in the bed on her knees. Some of the buttons on her shirt have come undone and I get a glimpse of her breasts encased in black silk. I salivate at the plump flesh spilling over the sheer cup.

"That's none of your business!"

My eyes flash to hers. She doesn't realize the danger she's in. It's stupid to goad me. She puts too much trust in her safety around me while I'm on a razor's edge. I get up, adjusting myself; her features twist, it's obvious my arousal upsets her. I calmly walk over, though I'm anything but calm. Rosa immediately goes on the defense, smart but useless. I'm double her size and aside from a few scratches, she can't do me any harm. Rosa backs up toward the headboard as far as she can get. I grab her by her feet, pulling her to me and hold her upper body down. She screeches and flails, uttering empty threats I don't pay attention to. Spreading her legs, I lean down and smell her. I don't scent my brother, just Rosa and her sweet honeysuckle scent. My mouth waters instantly and it takes all of my will to not push the thin silk aside and devour her. Not yet. I want her to beg for me, to crave my touch. This woman can not be won with flowers and pretty words. I see that now. She craves an animal like herself. Someone with power who can put her in her place and protect her all the same. I have to break her to keep her.

"I swear to God when I get the chance I'm going to kill you." She barks with as much bravado as a puffed up tomcat. I let her go and I'm rewarded with a hard clap across my face.

I stop and stare at her. She's not scared, she still thinks she has control. I need to change that. Throwing her over my shoulder, I carry her downstairs to where I hang fresh deer. She struggles the whole way and I smile at what's to come. I use the hook connected to the chain and attach it to the hook adjacent to me using the free links on either end to secure her wrists; I lock her in place. She's still cursing, hot with anger. A quick tug and I rip the shirt from her body. The loud tear is the only sound in the room. Finally, I've got her attention. She stares back at me, shocked, but I'm not satisfied yet. I keep my eyes on hers and grab the loose fabric of her pants, pulling them down to her ankles. Her whole body shivers, causing the chains to rattle.

"So this is what it takes to earn your respect, to have you at my mercy?"

I step back and look my fill as slow as a roaming hand. My eyes stroke every inch of her skin, slowing at the crests and valleys. The sheer fabric barely covers her pert breast, the swells spilling over the tops, and the small triangle that covers her sweet flesh is twisted, teasing me with a glimpse of her soft pink lips. Her body quivers at the visual caress. I shoot hard as stone and stroke myself through my pants. Her eyes widen, no doubt worried about what I'm going to do next. She's right to worry because I'm not sure I can stop here. Right now I feel like the monster she claims I am and with this darkness inside me. What I'm doing not only feels right, but I believe it's justified.

"Let me go, please."

The soft plea pulls me from my dark thoughts, but I ignore it. Approaching her. When I raise my hand, she flinches. I ignore that too and place my open palm against her cheek. Rosa avoids looking at me, keeping her head turned. So I grasp her chin, turning her toward me; I want her to watch me, to see the hunger in my eyes, feel the need in my touch. Leaning in, I place a kiss on her neck; she jerks back, glaring. A laugh erupts from my chest, when I fist her hair to expose her neck. I'm rougher, biting and licking my way down to her breasts. When I look up, her eyes are wild, riveted. It's all the encouragement I need. Hooking my thumbs in the straps of her bra, I expose the creamy flesh and watch rapt as the darkened buds stiffen before me. Her thighs tighten and I know she's aroused.

"Tell me you want more."

Her eyes snap open, and I'm rewarded with another glare.

"You want me to lie?"

I cup her between her thighs and apply pressure. Rosa gasps on a sharp inhale.

"Ask me nicely to make you come."

Her voice is shaky. I can feel the wetness coat my palm.

"No!"

The evidence of her arousal slickens my hand and still she denies me. I move in tight, slow circles, applying just the right amount of pressure. Her quick breaths lengthen and low moans begin to escape her. Her lips swell, spreading in invitation. When my palm begins to stroke her bare swollen clit, her knees buckle and I take the brunt of her weight. My mouth is so close I can almost taste her and it waters at the possibility, but I need her to break first.