Breathing fast, trying hard to forget about the sticky saliva between my legs and the sensation of having his brother’s tongue trying to enter me, I took the tattered age-stained scroll.
Jethro scowled, keeping a small distance between us. His coldness buffeted me, sending ice scattering over my bare arms. He looked pissed off—furious, yet there was something there that made my stomach twist.
Whatever game we’d played, whatever war we’d started back at the stables, wasn’t finished. He knew it. I knew it. And the knowledge sent power thrilling through my veins.
Leaning close, he hissed, “Stop staring at me, Ms. Weaver. I gave you a request.” Tapping the scroll in my palm, he snapped, “Read. It.”
Tearing my eyes from his, I obeyed.
The intricate border caught my attention first. Along with a design of vines and filigree, the words bound, indebted, owned were entwined in red ink.
The calligraphy of ancestors past sentenced me to a life worse than death. My rights had been taken. My life stolen. My body no longer mine.
18th August 1672
Signed and witness by Esq John Law
Matter between Weaver versus Hawk
Known forthwith as the Debt Inheritance
This hereby concludes all debate and conversation and puts forth a binding debt. Council has been provided along with sovereign approval for such an agreement.
As set in this chamber, I have witnessed the signatures of both parties of House Weaver and House Hawk, along with their significant entourage and companions.
The debt states as follows.
Percy Weaver hereby solemnly swears to present his firstborn girl-child, Sonya Weaver, to the firstborn son of Bennett Hawk, known as William Hawk. This will nullify all unrest and unpleasantries until such a time as a new generation comes to pass.
This debt will not only bind the current occupancies of the year of our Lord 1672 but every year thereafter. Every firstborn Weaver girl will be gifted as fair comeuppance to the firstborn Hawk boy to be claimed between the years of one and eight and six and twenty respectively. Both parties will be forever agreed on this day set forth.
The life and all attributes will be determined by the current Hawk, no rules or precedence will be set, and this agreement raises them above the law, operating within the grace of her Majesty the Queen of England.
Signed:
I KNEW WHEN she’d read it.
I knew when the final sentence sank in.
We had a document signed, sealed, and delivered by the royal magistrate of England giving us carte blanche to do as we liked. There was nothing illegal about my actions. There was nothing anyone could find me guilty of. No judicial system would save her.
It was the ultimate approval.
Not to mention, we had wealth to ensure no one would contest it. There was nothing to fight against. The sooner she accepted that, the easier this would be.
Nila’s eyes bugged wide, looking up from the parchment. Grabbing her shoulders, I backed her against the table. The horror living in her dark brown gaze was enough to drag a tiny bit of humanness from my cold soul.
Watching her being tasted—I wouldn’t deny—it fucked me off. She was my plaything. Mine to torment.
I was pissed at my father for permitting the entire brotherhood to use her. They weren’t deserving of drinking someone’s misery. That right was a Hawk’s and only a fucking Hawk’s. Excluding my younger cock of a brother.
He deserved shit.
Grinding my teeth, I placed my palm against her sternum, pressing her breakable chest. Her heart beat like a war drum beneath my fingers.
Her lips parted, but she didn’t fight as I pushed her backward.
I didn’t say a word—controlling her by sheer anger and will.
Her defined stomach muscles clenched as she fought the pressure, then gave in, sprawling backward onto the table. A small sound of pain came from her lips, catching her weight on her elbows.
She refused to lie down.
She would.
My cock fucking bruised itself, punching my belt time and time again. Only I knew how she tasted when she wanted to be tasted. Only I knew how she sounded when she wanted it so fucking bad. And only I knew how tight she was.
That tightness belonged to me.
I doubted I’d fit. I doubted I’d get half my dick inside her, but until I’d had the pleasure of trying, no one else was permitted near her. I had the scroll giving me power over everyone on that subject—including my father.
I swallowed hard. The anger watching my brother stick his fucking tongue inside her boiled. I teetered on a dangerous edge.
Pull back.
I couldn’t.
I wanted what I wanted, and I’d take what was owed to me.
“You finally understand,” I whispered. My voice was thicker, deeper, overrun with the dark lust that’d been created after her whorish displays this morning. She’d done this to me. It was her curse to fix me.
I couldn’t look at her without feeling her thrust against my finger. I couldn’t see past the challenge. The building strength in her skinny frame. She was learning.
I was learning.
We were learning how to play this game together.
She shivered as I dragged my hand down her front, moving lower and lower. My cock ached for the wet temptation belonging to me. I was responsible for her.
She’d been through a lot. She’d obeyed even though she’d fought. She’d kept it together but now she was precariously close to losing it. I wasn’t so heartless to ignore that craving in her eyes. The borderline insanity of needing a release. Combined with finally seeing proof that we were the good guys? Well, I owed her.
Just a little.
It was my job to take her to the edge, dangle her for a time, but then draw her back into safety. My purpose was to bridle everything she was, so she would do anything I asked.
Glaring into her eyes, I said, “You are mine. I am not your master or owner or boss. I am the man who controls your entire existence until you pay off your family’s debts. You don’t breathe unless I permit it. You don’t move unless I request it. You live a simple life now. One with a single word you need remember…yes.”