Page 42 of In Darkness We Claim

Following my line of sight, Harper looks down, her gaze fixed on the tattoo I gave her not too long ago. It’s my name in cursive, along with a small, intricate rose.

She’s still for a moment, barely breathing as she just stares at her pubic bone, her face devoid of any emotion, other than looking completely drained. A few seconds later, as if a switch were flicked, she snaps out of her trance, and her face contorts with rage.

She lifts her head, her hard stare aimed right at me as her lips twist into a scowl. “Why the hell did you tattoo me? You put your bloody name on me.”

She’s seething, but despite how angry she is, she still doesn’t deviate from her Order Wife training, and no real curse words leave her lips, which only makes me want to push her more, to see her break.

I hate to admit that seeing her so worked up is a massive turn-on. But I don’t want her to know that, so I shrug my shoulders, trying to seem uninterested as I tell her, “Now everyone knows you belong to me.”

Her cheeks flush red, but this time I’m almost certain it’s because of her anger. Her nose wrinkles as her gaze turns murderous. “But it’s only for this year, Lawson. I’m only yours for our final year, then you’ll go off and marry some perfect Obsidian Wife, while I’ll be stuck with your name on me forever.”

I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face at the thought that she’s stuck with this piece of me forever. But as much as I enjoy seeing her fiery side, I need to remind her of the rules around here.

I reach up and grab hold of her neck, ignoring the cute little yelp she lets out when I tighten my hold. “It doesn’t work like that, sweetheart. Now you’re mine, and you don’t get to leave until I say so. You belong to me. Besides, I’m going to ruin you for all other men, so having my name branded onto your skin is the least of your worries. When I’m through with you, I’m going to be inked onto your soul.”

Her eyes grow wide, her mouth opening and closing as she doesn’t know what to say. The urge to argue is evident on her face, yet a lifetime of being taught to be submissive and to refrain from speaking out holds her back.

Harper lowers her gaze from mine, letting out a huff as she deflates. But I like seeing her fire, so I move my hand around her throat a little higher, forcing her to arch her neck until she makes eye contact with me once again.

“Say whatever you were going to say, Harper. You never have to censor yourself with me.”

She lets out a harsh laugh as she rolls her eyes. “Rubbish. You want me meek and submissive. You don’t want a girl who argues with you, who challenges you.”

I lean in closer, letting her see the challenge in my eyes. “You’re very wrong, sweetheart. It’s always so much more fun to break someone who fights back. So give me all you’ve got.”

She looks at me like I’m crazy, and that only makes me happier. There’s something about this girl that brings the real me out, like I don’t have to hide either, and that’s a little scary.

“So you’ll untie me?” she asks, tilting her head backwards as much as she can with my hand wrapped around her neck.

I pause for a second, contemplating where I want this to go next, a smirk lifting my lips when an idea hits me. “I’ll untie you if you answer one question honestly. No lies. Deal?”

She nods without hesitation.

I pause for dramatic effect, making it seem like I’m considering which question to choose, when I already know. “Did anything that happened at the Gifting Ceremony turn you on?”

She shuffles uncomfortably, trying to close her thighs, but it’s impossible with me standing in the way. I can feel her heart fluttering beneath my palm on her neck, and I already know the answer, but I want to hear her say it, to make sure she won’t lie to me. After a couple of seconds, she slowly nods.

“Which parts?” I ask, my voice deep and gravelly.

“That’s two questions, and you haven’t untied me,” she retorts smartly, and I squeeze my hand around her throat, pulling a gasp from her lips.

“Answer me.” The tone of my voice leaves no room for argument.

She drops her gaze from mine, and when she finally speaks, it’s so quiet I can barely hear her. “I liked things I shouldn’t have.”

Shame paints her cheeks a deep red, and a spark of fascination ignites within me as the colour blooms across her neck and chest. I even remove my hand so I can watch the blush creep over her freckled skin.

Fulfilling my end of the bargain, I reach behind her back and slice the zip-ties with my knife. I pull her arms to the front as she lets out a relieved sigh, before gently massaging her wrists and hands, making sure the blood flow returns to normal.

“Why shouldn’t you?”

She keeps her gaze locked on the floor, and I want to force her to look at me, but this is clearly a topic she finds embarrassing, so I let her hide in favour of her telling me the truth. But this will be the last time she hides her eyes from me.

“I was raised to be an Obsidian Wife. The only purpose of sex is to give my Obsidian Husband pleasure and produce an heir. My enjoyment is irrelevant,” she whispers, reciting the words as if she’s said them a million times before.

A burning fury ignites within me, and I want to fucking kill her father for making her believe that bullshit. I mean, she’s not completely wrong, as that’s what a lot of Obsidian members believe, but not all of us.

I clear my throat, hoping she won’t be able to hear any of my emotions when I speak. “That might be the way some Order members do things, but not me. I don’t do romance, hearts, or flowers, and I can’t guarantee everything will be about pleasure, but I can fucking promise you’ll love every second.