Fate of a Royal (Lords of Rathe, #1)

by Meagan Brandy

Creed goes along with it, ever the fucking diplomat when others are looking, but Sinner feels the same way as me when it comes to rules and regulations—he fucking hates and ignores them. Our youngest brother, Legend, feels the same , but he’ll bend when he feels it’s right.

What a tiny little thing you are…kind of like a doll, cute to look at but won’t bend. I wouldn’t be above trying, though.

Her body slowly turns to get away from whomever she’s with, when suddenly she stops, her head snapping in this direction until her line-of-sight locks with mine. Instantly, my muscles ripple, clenching and flexing and stretching. Fucking straining. She can’t see me. There’s no fucking way.

I’m an heir, a fucking Lord, son to the king of the Stygian people, of dark magic,

I don’t suck on anything unless it’s over six foot and has a red flag hovering over their head.

That one, though. I’d bet he uses his dick like a weapon, serving up a raw, rugged ride. My favorite kind.

I want her like that. At my mercy. Bare beneath me like a perfect little doll.

Watch out, Little London, ’cause I’m coming for you, and if you’re a good girl, I might let you come for me too.

“There’s something so enticing about all the trouble you can get into when the sun has burned to ash and all that’s left is the hidden cloak of midnight.”

“What if I said I have always wanted to play with the devil, if only to see how bad it would burn?” “Then I would say you’re pretty fucking close to getting what you wished for. Now shut the fuck up and take this dick like you were made to.”